Leo’s apartment is quiet, uncluttered, and cut off from everything that gets in my way of thinking. It makes my head hurt. The first few days, after I finished ransacking the place looking for evidence of some kind of unfaithfulness, I bolted as fast as I could because the silence was painful. For months, I’ve been running as fast as I can to escape choices, responsibility, blame, and pain and my Leo drug made it easy to do that. When he was constantly at my disposal, there was never any silence in my head. I was either with him or plotting and scheming to find a way to be with him. But now that he’s hours away and working ten hours a day, there’s hardly any contact, and there’s too much silence. As I was jotting those thoughts down in my journal the other day, I decided to take a moment to read over earlier entries. What an eye opener. I thought my secret journal was going to be my place to find answers, you know…get some fucking clarity on my life. But the only thing it’s been good for is tracking lies. Flipping through the pages, it became evident that the last six months have been nothing more than a non-stop blur of semi-fake therapy, pretend marriage and compulsive cheating. The only thing my damn journal’s been good at is helping me keep up with all of it. I filled up every free minute of my life with something so that I didn’t have to think about anything. Just as I was about to rip out all of the incriminating pages and burn them, a teeny tiny light bulb went on in my teeny tiny brain. Duh…I don’t need a journal for clarity, I need silence!
So yesterday, I forced myself to be alone in Leo’s apartment for some much needed silence. I snuck out of work early, curled up in his bed, and waited for silence to sort out my problems. I lasted about five minutes before the pain kicked in. I quickly hopped up and looked for something to take my mind off of the mess I’ve created. I tried on his gigantic shirts, smelled his cologne, and drank something purple from his refrigerator. Then I paced around his bed like I didn’t trust it before I crawled back in to give silence another try. I only lasted five minutes again. The second I started thinking about telling Kurt I want a separation or telling Leo I can’t see him anymore, I’d spring out of bed and make my laps. I put myself through two hours of torture and packed on a massive headache from all the cologne sniffing before I finally acknowledged to myself that there’s no better time like the present to tell Dr. Maria about Leo. Slutty Co-worker is only enabling my addiction, my best friends want to stay as far away from it as possible, and obviously I’m incapable of curing myself. Time to call in the big guns. On my way out of Leo’s apartment, I called Dr. Maria and asked to see her right away. I had something huge to get off my chest.
It would’ve been better if I could’ve gone straight from Leo’s apartment to Dr. Maria’s office but she was booked solid. I had to wait an entire twenty-two hours to get a spot on her couch. Almost enough time to wimp out of asking her for help. I shake my head in disgust the entire drive to her office, and the closer I get, the more I decide to minimize my fanatical involvement with Leo. If she knew everything, she’d freak. I pass the apartment complex that I dropped Leo off in front of that fateful January night. I shiver as I remember the exact moment I crossed the line of inappropriate marital behavior, the moment my life got side-tracked. It was when I took off my wedding ring.
*****
January 24, 1998
“Well, it’s been fun talking to you, but I have to run to the bathroom. I guess I’ll see ya around.”
About ten minutes after I started talking to Leo, I sensibly decided to make my bladder the fun referee. I decided that when it got uncomfortably full, my fun had to end because I feared our conversation could go on all night. Thirty minutes after meeting him, as the buttons on my jeans are about to burst, I concede that it’s time to say good-bye and go back to real life.
“Aren’t you coming back?”
I hadn’t counted on that.
“Do you want me to?”
“What do you think?”
I guess a few more minutes with him can’t hurt.
“Will you keep an eye on my drink then? There’s crazies out there who will do sick things to a girl’s drink.”
“How do you know I’m not one of them?”
“Good point. I’ll ask my friend. Where do you think she and that Ho-Bag dude ran off to?”
“I’m only kidding. Your drink will be safe with me.”
“Yeah right, I know you want to slip me a drug and do unspeakable things to me.”
Good Lord, who am I right now?! I slam what’s left of my martini and strut my way to the bathroom, hoping to God he’s staring at me the entire time and thanking God I wore my cute butt jeans. Once inside, I lock the door, turn around, put my hands on the wet vanity, and ask myself, what the hell do you think you’re doing?
No answer.
No, really Chrissy, this is nuts. What the fuck are you doing? I don’t know, but it’s fun.
No, it’s wrong. Leave now! If you go now, you can chalk this up to innocent flirting and go back to your perfect little life. No, no, stop looking at your wedding ring. You love what that ring represents! Taking it off means you’re hiding your outward symbol of your inward love, and why would you do that?
Okay, you’re doing that. Why are you putting it in your pocket?!
I just want to see where this goes.
Where what goes?!
I want to talk to him a while longer.
But the bar’s closing soon. Where do you plan on continuing your little conversation?
In my car, I guess.
Oh, that’s disgraceful!
Okay, wait a Goddamn minute; am I literally having an argument with myself?
Yes, you are and I think you lost…or won…or maybe it’s a tie, you big fat whore.
After a quick pee, a lipgloss refresher and a spritz of perfume, I bounce back to my barstool, leaving responsible Chrissy behind.
“Hey, I’m back. Any luck locating my friend?”
“Yeah, I saw her and Ho-Bag leave about five minutes ago. It sucks, too because he was my ride.”
“Funny, I was hers.”
If there was ever an awkward pause, this was it.
“So Leo, if I offer to take you to wherever your car is, you’re not gonna kill me or anything are you?”
“I was gonna ask you the same thing.”
Then, like a bodyguard, he grabs hold of my hand and leads me out of the crowded bar.
I wonder how far he thinks things are gonna go. More than that, I wonder how far I’m gonna let things go. I feel intermittent twinges of guilt that almost prompt me to run but they’re immediately overridden by blows of excitement that compel me to stay. And I do. Right there in the Buckley’s parking lot, all cozy in my car, we talk about all the taboo things people typically don’t discuss when they first meet. Stuff like how many kids we want, our political party affiliation, religion, places we want to visit, people we hate…the list goes on and on. It’s like we can’t get enough of each other’s mind. It scares me to think of what we’re capable of doing to each other’s body.
“Wow, this is a match made in Heaven Leo. I don’t think there are many people outside of this car we can admit this stuff to!”
“It’s a match as long as you don’t have any tattoos.”
“Come on! Do I look like a girl who would get a tramp stamp? Please tell me you don’t have one either.”
“Hell no. A few of my brothers have them, they’re all a result of some drunken night. They’re like old girlfriend’s names or frat symbols or something disturbing like that. They wear them like they’re some kind of badge of honor. I can’t wait to see how those things look twenty years from now.”
“Do you see your brothers often?”
“I saw them a few weeks ago on Christmas. Man, I hate the holidays.”
“C’mon, who doesn’t love Christmas?”
“You’re looking at him.”
“Wow, the first thing we disagree on. But you know what? I bet you’d like Christmas with me.”
Why did I just say
that? I can’t celebrate tomorrow with him let alone next Christmas.
“Holidays with my family used to be somewhat tolerable because my Grandpa was such an awesome guy to be around. But since he died, I come up with every excuse possible to avoid them. My family drives me crazy.”
As refreshing as it is to hear Leo acknowledge the one thing I’ve wanted my husband to acknowledge for over a decade, and as much as I want him to tell me more, I can’t help but notice the sky going from black to a blurry shade of yellow.
“Did we actually talk all night long?”
“Went fast, didn’t it?”
“I guess I should take you to your car, huh?”
“Oh yeah… right, it’s at my buddy’s apartment.”
I’m never gonna see this guy again, and it doesn’t seem fair after the night we shared together. I wish his car was fifty miles away, but it’s not. It’s more like two. After exchanging a few awkward sentences, spoken only to mask the fact that neither one of us wants the night to come to an end, he asks the very question I hoped he wouldn’t.
“Can I have your phone number?”
I wish. But absolutely not! This charade ends now.
“Sorry, it’s a rule of mine to never give out my number. It’s a control thing.”
I thought it was a corny excuse, but he thinks it’s adorable and totally responsible. I can do no wrong with this guy!
“Do you have a pen?”
I give him one, and he hands me a piece of paper and says “Here’s mine. I really hope you call me.”
I can’t.
His door is now open; one leg is hanging out on the street while the rest of his body is lingering in the car. He’s stalling.
“I had a really good time tonight, Leo. You’re an amazing guy.”
And then out of nowhere I turn into Heather Locklear. No, Tawny Kitaen!
No wait… I’m one of those smokin’ hot chicks on a Budweiser poster who’s licking the side of a dripping wet beer bottle! Whoever the hell I am, I’m NOT Chrissy Anderson. She would never have the guts to look deep into a beautiful stranger’s eyes and say, “Do you want to kiss me?”
Before I can get a hold of myself and take back the insane question, he extends his arm behind my head and dives in.
Our full on make out extravaganza lasts forever and while it’s happening, I forget who I am. All disgust of my behavior is shoved aside. I’m floored by the domination I possess as I grab his hair and force his lips onto my neck and ear and then back to my lips. I put his hand on my breast that he would have left alone without an invitation, and I’m blown away with my bravery as I toy with his belt buckle. If we weren’t interrupted by the people getting into their cars to go to work or church or wherever they had to be early on a Sunday morning, I’m not really sure how far I would’ve let things go.
“Do you want to drive to Vegas right now and make this official? I have all the proof I need that we’re a match.”
If I wasn’t already married, I probably would.
“You’re joking, right?”
“No, actually I’m not.”
“Obviously at the moment, I’m in no state of mind to be making major life decisions.”
Or for that matter, bear in mind the ones I’ve made prior to this whole fiasco.
The sun is now totally up, and I suddenly realize that after a night of steady drinking, overlooking the importance of hourly lipstick maintenance and getting pounced on in the front seat of my car, I must look like a total hag. I promptly put my sunglasses on and feel an overwhelming urge to hide from the world.
“So…okay then, I guess I’ll be going now.”
“You’ll call, right?”
“I…things are…life’s just kinda crazy and…”
Wait, if I totally blow him off, he might think I do this all the time AND I DON’T! Plus, I don’t want to blow him off ! He’s so wonderful, and I wish so badly I could see him again. But dammit, I can’t! Get him out of the car now, Chrissy!
“Look, I’m not really sure what’s going on here, and it’s completely taken me by surprise. I think right now I need to go home, get some sleep and have some really good dreams about what just happened. After that, I can start thinking about a phone call.”
God, did that even make any sense?
“You have to call me because we still have to get to the bottom of why we met.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, was it pure luck or was it divine intervention instigated by some really bored, dead grandfathers?”
“I’m gonna go with pure luck because I don’t believe in God.”
“That’s priceless!”
“What!? Why are you laughing?”
“Explain how you can believe in ghosts but not believe in God.”
“Well now, that would take us into tomorrow.”
“I’m cool with that. There’s a coffee shop around the corner, how about we start our conversation there.”
“You’re sweet, Leo, you know that?”
He’s chuckling. “I don’t think many people would call me that and I bet you didn’t think I was very sweet when you sat next to me tonight.”
“You mean last night! And yeah, you were quite the bastard!”
“Now that’s a name I’m used to being called!”
“Are you implying I know a side of you that no one else knows?”
Looking fiercely into my sunglasses, “Without a doubt.”
I’m struck by the curiosity of his claim that after spending roughly 8 hours with him, I could know him better than anyone else, and then I’m struck even harder when I realize I could probably say the same thing about him. Holy shit, I just met my soul mate! I just met my twenty-two year old, college attending, rock yard working soul mate!
*****
I snap back to the present and a warm feeling, my drug, slithers through my body and settles in my belly. He’s in me. He’s so deep inside of me and no amount of time, distance, therapy or alcohol will ever rid my body of him. I can’t possibly stay with Kurt with these feelings. I pull into the parking space where Leo and I shared our first kiss and I close my eyes and replay the events of that night until my mind and body can’t take it anymore. By the time my eyes reopen, I reclaim the courage to tell Dr. Maria everything. She has to help me figure out a way to be alone because I can’t be with Kurt the rest of my life with a belly full of Leo.
Kaboom!
June, 1998
When I get to Dr. Maria’s office, the lobby is empty. Sad Frumpy lady isn’t sitting in her usual spot, and surprisingly, I’m a little worried about her. She doesn’t look like she’s in any shape to miss a therapy session. I want to ask Dr. Maria if she’s alright, but that would be kinda weird, and she’s gonna think I’m weird enough when I tell her about my mischief with Leo.
“Well, you seem awfully happy today, Chrissy.”
“Yeah, I guess I am.”
“Things going well at home?”
Here we go.
“Actually no, but things are going well with Leo.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Me neither. First, I want to tell you that I’m very sorry I kept this from you but I was scared you’d be mad.”
“It’s not my place to be mad or judge you, but I am concerned that you might have taken the therapy you received here and mistakenly applied it to a life you weren’t being honest about living. You’re most likely making things much more complicated, and might I say…expensive for yourself.”
“I know I’ve wasted a lot of money in here. But just so you know, I’m not delusional about the double life I have going on, and I realize I’ve been asking for advice on how to save a marriage I’ve been sabotaging.”
“You’ve been doing much more than that; you’re most likely making
Kurt a little crazy.”
“Whoaaaaaaaaa, I don’t think Kurt has any clue about what’s going on, and trust me, I’m not bragging about that, but as you very well kn
ow, the guy is way too self-involved to notice I’m having an affair.”
“He might not say anything to you, Chrissy, but deep down he knows; you’re his wife. Internally he’s probably struggling with what he thinks is going on and what he doesn’t believe could ever happen.”
I didn’t think I could possibly feel any worse than I did before I came in here. But I do.
“Think about it. I’m sure you exercise more; that’s a sign. I’m sure you have way more late nights at the office; that’s a sign. I’m sure you pay more attention to your wardrobe, accessories, perfume…these are all signs. But I bet the biggest sign of all is how you’ll do everything you possibly can to avoid having sex with him. Any of this stuff sound accurate?”
“So now I know why you cost so much; you know what the hell you’re talking about.”
“I do. For Pete’s sake, tell me what’s really going on with Leo so we can actually make some progress here.”
I rehash all the dirty details of my time spent with Leo. I even tell her about sneaking out in the middle of the night. I tell her about coming clean to Courtney, Nicole, and Kelly, and since doing that I’ve virtually cut off all communication with them because deep down I know they want me to stay married and it bugs me. I tell her about my three options and that my heart is breaking because I know it’s only a matter of time until I have to choose one.
“I think that about covers it. So, what should I do?”
“What do you want to do?”
Why did I know she was gonna ask that?
“For starters, I want to go back in time and choose a different bar to have a drink at that night.”
“Not possible.”
No shit.
“I want Kurt to be Leo but still be Kurt.”
“Can’t happen.”
Bitch.
“I don’t want to hurt Leo.”
“If your only options are to disappear or tell him you’re married, you’ll hurt him. But eventually he’ll be fine.”
The Life List (The List Trilogy) Page 21
