Undressing Elizabeth

by Jacquelyne Alberta

  As Elizabeth pulled the flaps of her trench coat down as low as they would go, she felt the young officer’s hands gently on her back, pushing her forward. “Go to him, m’am. Go to him.”

  That’s when she knew. It wasn’t her. It had nothing to do with her escapades that day. Something had happened at work.

  A police officer in a major city like Vancouver rarely draws his gun. There might be skirmishes that he ends up in or times he has to pull his truncheon out, but real police work isn’t like it is in the movies. Elizabeth had been a police officer’s wife long enough to know that. David had used his gun four times in his career. She knew the date of each one and she knew a little bit about what had happened. And she knew what her husband looked like when he was involved in a situation that involved a firearm.

  Quickly, she crossed the living room floor, and knelt in front of him. “Honey, David, what’s going on? What’s happened? Why is your gun here?”

  He seemed to come to life and out of his trance as his gaze left the picture of his father, and settled on her. “I’m sorry, Lizzy. I’m sorry. I tried to call you, but your phone went right to your voice mail. Had kind of a bad day, a couple of guys did a bit too much celebrating and things got out of hand. Young Ross here just wanted to make sure I had some company ‘til you got home. I’ve been telling him about my dad, boring him with old stories.” David looked briefly at the other officer then back again at the old picture.

  “Good stories, sir, good stories. I’ve enjoyed listening to you.” The young man tilted his head to one side, indicating that he wanted to speak privately with Elizabeth. “I’ll be on my way now, though. It’s been good spending time with you.”

  David didn’t answer as Elizabeth followed the officer to the front door of her house.

  They were standing outside on the front path before he started to speak. “Asshole pulled a gun at him and shot it off a few feet from where he was standing. The sergeant didn’t flinch though. He talked him down and the bastard, sorry, ma’am, dropped his gun. I wasn’t there. I heard about it later. Your husband seemed okay, but we thought it might not be a good idea that he was home alone, so I hung out here for a bit. And we’ve got him, the other guy I mean. He’s locked up, sobering up. He’s not going anywhere.”

  Elizabeth had her hand over her mouth and her eyes wide open, while Ross spoke. Little tears formed at the edges of her eyes as she tried to imagine what David must have felt like as a bullet sailed past him. “I should have been here. I should have been here for him.”

  The officer held out his hand and touched her shoulder. “It wouldn’t have mattered and he’s going to be okay. He’s going to be okay, now.” As his hand touched the shoulder of her coat, the jacket slipped and the top straps of her red lacy bustier showed. Elizabeth pulled the top of the jacket closed, but it was too late. He’d seen a little bit of what she was wearing below it.

  His reaction was swift and non-committal. He gave her the practiced look that police officers are trained in. His face showed neither dismay nor approval. He just let his hand leave her shoulder and placed it rigidly by his side. “Anyways, you’re home, that’s good. You can look after him now and I’ll be on my way.”

  Elizabeth called thanks to the officer, but he just waved back at her as he made his way to his car and drove off, without looking back.

  When she came back inside, David seemed to have come to life. He’d put his gun and holster away and was in the kitchen. She could hear the noise of a kettle boiling, and pots and pans being moved around. He looked over his shoulder and smiled at her as she stood in the doorway. Holding a frying pan in the air, he spoke in a matter of fact way, as though it was just a normal day. “I’ve got the kettle going for tea and we could whip up a stir-fry if you’re interested.”

  “He told me, David. He told me what happened. I’m sorry that I wasn’t here. I’m really sorry.” She leaned against the wall, her arms folded in front of her, her eyes still wet with tears, and her heart heavy with regret.

  David turned and faced his wife, his eyes looking into hers. “It’s alright, you didn’t know, you couldn’t have. It was just my turn. It happens. It’s the law of averages, every once in a while it’s going to be me. Today was my day.”

  That was all she was going to get out of him. She knew that. It was all that he’d tell her about it. She looked at the big man in front of her and felt all the guilt that she hadn’t felt after being with Jim. Her insides churned and her stomach flopped around. She wanted to take away all of the pain that she might ever have caused him, but of course, she couldn’t. When his arms opened and welcomed her in, she nuzzled into the comfortable familiar place between his shoulder and his chest. There was nowhere in the world that felt safer to her. She grabbed on and held herself tight against him, wishing that the world and all the decisions that it made you make were clearer, simpler.

  As her sobs dampened the shirt of his uniform, David stroked his wife’s back, comforting her and consoling himself at the same time. “It’s okay. We knew this would happen. Sometimes it’s going to happen.”

  When her tears stopped, still in his arms, she rubbed her eyes. Pushing herself slightly away from him, she tried to regain some composure, “I know, I know, but it’s not okay. It’s never okay, and it never will be. I don’t like it, David. I don’t like this happening to you. I don’t want there to be ‘some asshole’. Let him shoot at somebody else. I don’t want him shooting at my husband.”

  The kettle reached its boil and she pulled it off of the burner. Catching a glimpse of herself in the kettle’s reflection, and remembering once again what she was wearing, she turned and made her way towards the bedroom. “I’ll be back in a minute, honey. I’ll get dinner, just give me a sec.”

  He didn’t speak until she was in the bedroom. It was as though he’d been thinking for a moment before asking while he watched her leave the kitchen with her coat flapping behind her.

  “Where were you today, Lizzy? Why are you dressed like that?”

  Her legs wobbled as she quickly pulled the jacket off and stripped out of the bustier. Her breathing felt like it was choking her as she pulled a T-shirt and shorts from the top of her drawers. She didn’t know what to say. She just didn’t know what to say. She’d never lied to him, but then again, she supposed, every time she’d been with Jim it was like lying to him.

  “I was clothes shopping, trying on clothes. This was the easiest way to do it. I just threw on the jacket.” It sounded plausible to her. It had to. He’d seen the jacket and nothing else, hopefully, probably.

  When she returned to the kitchen, David stood and watched her for a moment, his lips tight and straight in an awkward smile. It wasn’t the cop expression that Ross, the young officer had given her earlier when he’d spied her red outfit, but it was close. It was very close.

  The sound of her breathing was quieter now, but the thumping of her heartbeat was back again. It drummed in her ears and still David stood there, while she opened the fridge door, and pulled out some carrots and stalks of celery. The noise from the fluorescent light as it buzzed above them, with the thumping, the constant thumping of her heart was making her dizzy. Holding onto the counter, she steadied herself and placed the vegetables on a cutting board. Pulling a knife from the drawer, she could sense him moving behind her. Don’t ask, David, please, please don’t ask. His back was to hers and he was pulling something from the cupboard. He didn’t believe her, that much she was fairly certain of, but he was moving around, pulling plates from the cupboard. She was going to be okay. He wasn’t going to ask. The thumping subsided a little. The noise from the fluorescent light was a little fainter now and she took some solace in the fact that she knew her husband. He wouldn’t ask anything else. It was going to be okay. And if she didn’t do it again, he’d never have to know. Everything was going to be okay.

  Chapter Nine

  There are events that happen to you in life that change you and there are events that happen to you t
hat change your circumstance. Since the day Elizabeth started an intimate relationship with Jim Gretzky she’d had her share of both. She thought that all the changes were over the day after she came home to find a police car in front of her house. She thought everything could go back to normal. David had been quiet during dinner and again at night, but that wasn’t unusual. He’d been involved in a life and death situation at work and there were many nights that he was quiet. They’d get through this. They always did. Everything had to go back to normal now. There shouldn’t be any more changes. There couldn’t be.

  Unfortunately, she was wrong. The next day at the box company, her life would change once again.

  After she ignored a couple of emails from Jim, he seemed to give up and she could see him hunched over his desk going through some paperwork. There was a particularly large order that was being prepared so the office was busier than it usually was. The salesmen bounced from desk to desk, making sure shipments were going to be ready on time, secretaries fussed with file folders and the accountants typed into their computers, adding up numbers, and preparing invoices. Everything was normal. The sun was shining in through the office windows and even the air conditioner was humming along perfectly. It was all just another day until Elizabeth heard the laughter. The laughter changed everything. It seemed to start at the reception area, then moved to the first row of desks then all the way over to where she was sitting. A story was being told. Heads would pop up as the tale was relayed from one row of desks to the next. The recipient would listen with their back straight and head cocked and then the laughter or shock would come. Then they’d repeat the story to their co-worker at the next row over. Elizabeth watched with some amusement as the faces lit up at the latest gossip. She wasn’t really interested, but she waited anyways, knowing she had little choice in the matter. She’d have to listen then she’d pass the story along to the next row of workers.

  As it got closer, and she heard more of the story, she stopped smiling and sat up straighter in her desk. There were two words that jumped out, “condom,” and “couch,” and when she heard them her normal day suddenly ended. By the time the story was told a row over from her, she knew what had happened. A client, waiting to meet with a salesperson, had sat on the couch in the reception area. Feeling something between the cushions he reached down and pulled out what looked like a used condom. Being a man of limited life experience, he held it up between his fingers and asked the receptionist, “What’s this?”

  The very professional receptionist who had worked for the box company for many years, answered in a calm manner, “Oh, it’s just a condom. No worries, I’ll look after that.”

  Then, grabbing a tissue, she took it from the client and put it into the garbage can. The client looked at the receptionist for a moment, but when she continued organizing her desk and moving pencils and pens into the exact position that seemed to be demanded of her important position, he simply picked up a magazine and started reading. Once the client was gone, the receptionist, barely stifling her laughter, couldn’t stand it any longer, and told the story to her friend, who sat at the first row of desks in the main office.

  The sound of bagpipes replayed in Elizabeth’s ears. When she’d had sex with Jim on the couch the first time, she’d thrown him off when the noise of the bagpipes came in the window. The condom had come off. They’d never looked for it. They’d never even thought about it. She’d had unprotected sex with Jim. And, when she did her mental calculation, she realized that she was late. She hadn’t had her period in two months, yes, it was two months. She was two months late. The panic rose from her stomach up to her chest. Her face tightened and she felt a vein popping in her forehead. How could she have been so stupid? How could she have let this happen? How could she be late?

  She rose from her desk and pulled her jacket from the back of her seat. As she walked through the office, she heard a couple of people ask her where she was going and she saw Jim looking at her and shaking his head. He was mouthing the word “no” over and over again. It didn’t matter; he could have been screaming it. She couldn’t hear a thing. All she could see was her life, as she knew it, changing. She was late. She hadn’t even thought about it. She’d been too busy being secretive, living a double life.

  Her car seemed to drive itself. She had no power over it. She had her hands on the steering wheel and her foot on the pedals but still, it drove itself. She stopped at lights and paused briefly at stop signs as she raced her way through Vancouver’s streets. Her mind was a blur and she couldn’t erase the memory of lying on the couch and pushing Jim off. It wasn’t the erotic fulfilling recollection now; instead it was a memory of panic, pure panic. When she reached her destination she pulled her car into the parking lot and parked. The receptionist knew her and must have recognized the fear in her eyes because within moments she was sitting in front of her doctor telling her that she needed a pregnancy test performed immediately.

  The doctor had met with Elizabeth and David many times over the years. She knew their history and had advised them as they tried time after time to get pregnant. It wasn’t unusual after many years for a woman to become a little unstable and to believe she was pregnant, especially after she’d tried everything.

  The doctor reached over and held onto Elizabeth’s hand as she spoke. “Elizabeth, why now? You know we’ve tried, gosh knows you guys have tried everything. Why now?”

  Elizabeth blurted the words without hesitation. “Theresa, I’m late. I’m eight, maybe ten weeks late. I need to know and I need to know quickly.”

  The doctor looked at Elizabeth and smiled at her for a moment. “Okay, Elizabeth, we’ll check. We’ll check, but you know, it could be any number of things. It doesn’t necessarily mean...”

  An hour after speaking to her doctor, Elizabeth sat in her car in the parking lot and with shaky hands dialed David’s number. If our character is defined by who we reach for during our lowest moments, then this was Elizabeth’s moment. There was no doubt in her mind whose arms she yearned for and whose touch she craved. Her life was disintegrating in front of her and she knew who she needed to see. When she heard him answer she braced herself against the seat and held the mobile tight against her ear.

  “David, it’s me.”

  The words hung in the air for a moment and there was only silence between husband and wife as they sat a few miles apart, David in his office at the police station and Elizabeth outside her doctor’s office.

  “Yes, Lizzy, what is it? What’s wrong?”

  She was beyond panic now. She’d reached a level that was new to her. Her eyes were glossy and red from crying and nothing, absolutely nothing in the world made sense. “David, I need to see you. I need to tell you something.”

  He didn’t answer. Elizabeth listened and pushed the phone harder and harder against her ear. She pictured her husband, big and silent and strong, waiting on the other end of the line.

  She drew her breath in and spoke again. “David, can you hear me? I need to see you now. I’ve done something. I need to tell you what I’ve done.”

  The silence on the other end of the line was deafening. It was louder than the sound of the bagpipes and as every second passed a little bit more of her life seemed to leave her.

  When she couldn’t stand it any longer, she sobbed and cried to her husband. “David, David, David...”

  Softly, he interrupted her and in a tired voice, he said, “I know, Lizzy. I know what you’ve done, and I know who he is.”

  It took her a moment of crying into the phone, hoping he’d say something else, before the three little beeps sounded and she realized that her husband had hung up.

  * * * *

  He’d go home. Yes, he’d probably go home and be waiting for her there. When she tried calling him again, there was no answer. So, with his words replaying in her head, over and over, she drove back towards her house. There was only one route and it took her right past her office. As she passed the box company, she saw Jim’s car sitt
ing idling in the parking lot. He must be on his way out. She kept driving. She made it to the end of the block, before realizing she had to tell him too. His car was running. He’d be in it.

  He was driving out and she pulled alongside him, her window facing his. Jim’s face was flushed and he didn’t give her his trademark grin as they put their windows down. “Elizabeth, I was worried about you. You left, we were all worried.”

  As he stared at her, she realized that she must look a mess. She pulled the visor down and saw her mascara was smeared across her face and her usually perfectly arranged hair was pointing in several different directions. She let out a sigh, but she didn’t care. What she looked like was the last thing that mattered right now.

  Flipping the visor back up, she looked back at Jim. Still, he had a vacant look on his face, waiting for an answer.

  “Listen, Gretzky, Jim, I need to tell you. I just went to my doctor. I’m pregnant. I’m at least ten weeks pregnant.” She just said it. The words came easy, effortless. He needed to know. That was all. She just needed to tell him.

  There was a flicker in his eyes, and then his mouth formed into a wide smile. “That’s great, Elizabeth, congratulations. I know it’s what you and David wanted.”

  The cars on the street behind them continued to drive by and occasionally someone from the office building would walk to their vehicle. It would be noon soon and there would be a rush of feet coming down the stairs making their way to lunchtime appointments, or perhaps to an illicit rendezvous, much like the ones she’d had with Jim. His reaction didn’t make sense. He should be concerned. They’d had sex without a condom. He’d have to know by now. He’d have to be thinking that maybe he was responsible. She stared back at him, not knowing what else to say.