by Layne Harper
“Wish I could join you.” He gives his leg a rueful stare, as I sit on the foot of the bed to put my shoes on.
“We’ve got a house full of people coming tomorrow for Christmas Eve. We need to decide what we’re going to do.” I leave the unspoken questions hanging in the air. Are we going to redecorate the house and pretend that all is well? Are you going to ask everyone not to come? Are we going to keep our infertility between us, or share our marriage issues with everyone?
“Okay. I have my appointment with the celiac specialist today. I’d like for you to go.” He reminds me without any expression in his voice or on his face. He’s in game day mode.
“It’s not like you can drive yourself,” I attempt to joke.
He returns a half-hearted smile. “I love you, Caroline.”
“And I love you, Colin.”
I start my run around the lab rat maze inside the gilded cage. My running mix today reflects my mood. They’re more somber songs. I start off with Hinder’s “Lips of an Angel.” I listen to it twice. Then, I go for some Pat Green. “Trying to Find It” is one of my favorites of his. I pretty much cry through the whole song, especially when he talks about finding a book for his child. I wind up having to wipe my nose on my running jacket. Not my best moment, but I can’t have snot freezing to my face. I decide to quit running when I choose Earl Thomas Conley’s “Holding Her and Loving You.”
I walk the rest of the way home, thinking about Colin. I know that I’m not the most sensitive person. I should have been in tune to Colin, and realized he was this depressed. How could he not be? I shouldn’t have gone in to the hospital yesterday. There were other surgeons who could have covered for me. I should’ve stayed home with him, and comforted him.
I put myself in his shoes, and imagine if it was me who was keeping us from conceiving. I’d be devastated that I couldn’t give him what he wanted. I just can’t believe that he behaved the way that he did. That’s what hurts so much. That’s what I can’t seem to rationalize. He gave up on us. That guts me.
When I get home, Colin’s in the same place he was when I left him. I ask him if I can fix him some breakfast, and he declines. I can’t force him to eat. I fix myself a bowl of oatmeal and drink my coffee. It’s black, caffeinated, and strong, just like I like it.
I finish up and load the dishwasher. I leave the charred dish from last night for Alice, hoping she can clean it. Then, I change my mind and decide toss it in the garbage hoping to rid our house of the physical reminder of our massive fight.
Next, I stare at the bags that hold our Christmas decorations and pictures. I’m not sure what to do with them, so I haul them to the garage. I’ll come up with something after Colin’s appointment.
I walk back into the bedroom, without looking at Colin, and head to the shower. I try not to think, and just be for a little while. I actually manage to pull it off for about thirty seconds.
The rest of my getting dressed routine is going through the motions. I watch Colin crutch around the bathroom. We don’t speak to each other, other than a polite “excuse me” or “Can you hand me that?’”
Our drive to the doctor’s office isn’t much better. For one of the first times in our relationship, the radio is turned up loud enough to drown out the silence. It does a poor job. Neither one of us sing along to the songs we like. We’re zombie people, driving from point A, to point B.
I drop Colin off at the entrance to the building and find a parking spot. When I walk up he’s growling at someone who looks like they made the mistake of asking him for an autograph. I hurry and try to defuse the situation. “Sir, I’m sorry. This is a difficult appointment. Colin would like his privacy.”
When the guy is out of earshot, Colin says in a snide voice, “You know I can still speak for myself. Everything else might be broken, but my mouth is functioning just fine.”
I was just trying to help. “I know. Just trying to soften the blow.”
We take the elevator up to the fifth floor, and I sign Colin in and take care of the insurance information while he sulks and plays on his phone.
Our appointment doesn’t go much better. The doctor is going to run some genetic tests on Colin. Those will hopefully give us the results without having to do a biopsy of his intestine. We’re going to go hardcore gluten free in our home, assuming that he is positive for celiac disease.
When we leave the doctor’s office, I ask Colin if he needs to go anywhere before I take him to practice.
He shakes his head, and asks me to take him to his office building instead. That works fine for me, because I need to go to the hospital and check on my patients.
I don’t get out of the car at his office. I pull up to the curb outside of the front door. He leans over and gives me a chaste kiss on the lips.
“I’m sorry, and I love you,” he says in a quiet, non-emotional voice. “I’m sorry for the things that I said, and for destroying Christmas. Please forgive me.”
I take a deep breath. “I forgive you for your temper tantrum, but I need some time to get over you quitting on us.” I look away, and watch a lonely leaf dancing in the wind mirroring my mood. “Just give me some time to get over it, okay?”
“Okay,” Colin says, sounding resigned.
I watch him crutch his way into the office building, until he disappears inside. I pull out of the parking lot and head toward the hospital.
I vow not to let this ruin our first Christmas together. I’ve decided for us. We’re going to pretend that everything is awesome with our relationship. No issues. We can fake a cheerful outcome for Colin’s devastating injury. If anyone asks if we’re trying to get pregnant, we’ll reply, “We’re thinking about it.” Not a lie; just not the whole truth.
When I get home tonight, I’ll see what can be salvaged of our Christmas decorations. Our families are coming into town to celebrate with us along with Brad, Aiden, and Jenny. There’s nothing Brad will like more than getting to decorate for Christmas twice.
I feel better about my life as I turn into the hospital parking lot. I have a plan, and that gives me hope. My security guys greet me at my car with the usual pleasantries. Today, I have Miguel and Jason. Both of them are nice guys who know the rules of being bodyguards at my job. The hospital staff is pretty used to seeing me being tailed by large men. The guys follow me to patients’ rooms and wait by the door. So far, they’ve never had to intervene when Colin’s biggest fans have introduced themselves to me, but they have had to politely ask men to keep their hands off of me. This is a task that I could’ve taken care of myself, but it was the compromise that Colin and I came up with so he would be comfortable with me working here.
As I’m walking inside the hospital, I reach for my phone to switch it to vibrate mode. It dings in my hand, letting me know that I have a text. It’s from a number that I don’t recognize. I open the text.
[ID unknown]: Want to know what your HUSBAND does when he gets depressed? Magnolia Hotel. Room 413. Come now.
I stand there, staring at the phone. My stomach twists into an angry knot. I read the text again to make sure that I did read it correctly. Yup. It still says the same thing. Someone is trying to tell me something that I don’t know about my husband. I think of our fight last night. I reassure myself that Colin loves me. I know that without a doubt. I think about him trying to push me away, trying to send me back to Houston. Was he doing it to protect me from something? Someone?
I pause outside of the hospital, and call Jenny. If anyone knows what Colin does when I’m not around, it’s her.
“Hi Jenny,” I say in a chipper voice, as I take a seat on a cold cement bench outside the electric doors at the hospital entrance. I pull my wool coat around me to protect me from the chill, but it quickly becomes apparent that the cold is not from the air temperature it’s from my fear. “For some reason, my call is not going through to Colin’s phone.” I lie. “May I speak with him?” Please let him be there, I silently plead.
“He left here about twe
nty minutes ago. That’s so weird; I talked to him a few minutes ago. His phone was working fine,” Jenny says sounding completely normal. The knot tightens as I shiver.
“Any idea where he was headed?”
“Yeah. He said something about a meeting downtown. It wasn’t on his schedule, but we all know that he does a piss poor job of keeping it up-to-date now that he’s not playing.”
“How did he get to the meeting?” I ask, surprised that he didn’t have Jenny drive him.
“He called the town car service, I guess. I asked him if he needed a lift, and he gave me the ugly look.”
“Thanks,” I reply. “I guess I’ll keep trying to reach him.”
He didn’t mention any meetings to me, but Jenny’s right. Colin’s schedule is so up in the air, now that he’s out for the season. I know that I should trust my husband and ask him about the text at dinner tonight, but my curiosity gets the better of me. I think about Colin’s statement last night when I asked him what he did before me when he got into one of these funks. His answer was Jenna. Surely, Colin wouldn’t be seeing her today. Not after he promised me that he would never speak to her again.
I hang up with Jenny, and ask the security guys to go with me. I might need Thing One and Thing Two to have my back, in case it’s a bad situation.
My surgery patients will have wait until later for me to check in on them.
The muscle follows me in a black suburban-type car. I see them in my rearview mirror. They’re staying very close. I feel secure, knowing that I’m not alone in this.
I put my music on shuffle as I drive to the Magnolia Hotel. I know where it is. It’s a couple of blocks from Colin’s old fortress in the sky. I used to run by it on the way to the park. It’s a nice hotel that was converted from the old office building for Mobil Oil.
When I pull up, the paparazzi are standing on the sidewalk outside of the circle drive, their long lenses trained at the hotel. I wonder if they’re here to try to snap a picture of whomever texted me. I have a half a mind to walk over and ask, but as soon as I step out my car, their cameras go off in a clicking frenzy. The knot tightens. Whatever I’m walking in on, they know about—and it has to do with Colin. I ask the valet to please leave my car in the circle drive. I hand him my keys, and a twenty dollar bill. My security does the same.
As we walk through the lobby, I look for anyone that I might recognize, but everyone looks like they’re here on business, or tourists.
Miguel leans in and asks, “Doctor Collins, may I ask why we’re here?”
I hit the up button on the elevator, and step back, waiting for it to arrive. “I’m not sure. I received a strange message, and we’re checking it out.”
“I don’t think that Mr. McKinney will be okay with this,” he says as his eyes nervously shift around. I know the last thing he wants to do is play that card.
“You work for me also. You’re paid from our joint account, which my husband insisted on us having, so I don’t care what Mr. McKinney is okay with.” I hate being like this, but it’s true. I need them to do their job right now.
“Yes ma’am,” he says as we step inside the antique, mirrored elevator.
I hit the button for the fourth floor, but I think I leave my stomach and heart in the lobby. When the doors open, Miguel says that he’s going to go in first, and he will signal when it’s okay for Jason and me to enter. That sounds like a good plan to me.
We stand in front of room 413. I’m shaking; my nerves are frayed. I pray to God that this is a huge misunderstanding. I pray that Colin and I will laugh about this over dinner tonight.
Miguel knocks twice and steps back, his hand at his side, I’m assuming on his weapon. When the door opens, I almost grab his gun and use it myself. Who’s standing there, but Jenna Sanchez?
If I’m honest with myself, I knew it was her who had sent me the text. But seeing her dressed in a black sheer nightgown while my husband is in the same room makes me—in Colin’s words—crazy mad. She’s wearing black thong panties, which I can clearly see through her thin lace nightie.
“Colin,” she says over her shoulder. “You know that I quit doing threesomes with you a couple of years ago, but I can make an exception for your wifey, here.” Satisfaction is written all over her face. “On second thought, she’s not my type,” she adds, with viciousness.
I turn to Thing One and Thing Two. “Please wait out here.”
I walk into the hotel room and see my husband leaning against a closed bathroom door. Thank God he’s (still?) clothed. “What the fuck, Jenna?” he bellows, when he sees me.
“Just thought that I would invite Charlie to our rendezvous. The sooner she knows that you come to me every time the chips are down, the better. When I heard about your injury, I assumed it was only a matter of time before you’d call. Then, you did. I figured she could decide for herself what level of adultery she wants to put up with,” she says, as I push the door shut behind me. I watch her sit down on the bed, and lean back against the headboard. Jenna leaves herself very exposed with her nightgown resting at the top of her thighs.
I look at my husband. He’s murderously pumping his hands open and closed. “Jenna, I’ve spent the last twenty-four hours trying to figure out what your motivation is. I mean, what’s your end game?” He pauses, and runs his hand through his hair. “I’ve paid for your college, bought you a house, a car…why are you at my beck and call when I want to fuck you, but then you turn around and hurt me by telling Kenzie that I had painkillers called in in your name?”
That’s news to me.
“Or bringing my wife into your bullshit? You release a statement to a magazine that we’ve been having a long-term affair. You obviously don’t love me, since you’re constantly trying to hurt me. What gives?” Colin rages at her.
What I want to ask him is, “What about me?” Colin has still yet to acknowledge my presence, which I find, rude, appalling, and very disrespectful. However, what angers me the most is that he’s keeping secrets from me, and because of those secrets I feel like an imposter on a very intimate moment between old lovers. Yet even though I see Jenna dressed this way, and her and Colin are in a hotel room together, I don’t believe that he came here to sleep with her. Am I naïve? Probably. He did admit last night, and Jenna just confirmed, that he sleeps with her when he’s upset.
“Why, Colin? The same question could be asked of you. You’re the one who’s married, yet who’s paying for this hotel room? Who called me? I’ll tell you, if you tell me,” she purrs.
I stand there and watch this tennis match, not sure why I’m still here. The tension is so thick it could be cut with a knife. I look at my husband waiting for him to come to me. Stand by me, Colin. Touch me. Show her that we’re united.
Should I walk to him? Is this a mutual confrontation? I don’t think Miss Manners has ever covered a situation like this in any of her books.
“I hate you, Jenna. I’ve hated you since you said that the baby was mine my senior year in high school, and it wasn’t.” He spits the words at her.
“But who’ve you been fucking since you were fifteen? Me,” she screams, looking like a bad reality show villain. “Who do you run to, any time you need an ego boost? Me. One day you’re going to realize that she was a goal, like winning the Super Bowl is a goal, but I’m the one you really want.”
Her words steal the air from my lungs. I’ve wondered the same thing. Am I just a goal for him? The one thing that had slipped through his fingers, like the Super Bowl ring? Does he still want me now that he has me? Last night runs through my mind on fast forward. Having my fears echoed out loud makes me question why I’m truly here.
She stands up and walks toward Colin, completely ignoring me. “I was there before her. I was there after her. We took a year off for your sham of a marriage, but who were you fucking again before the ink was dry on the divorce papers? That would be me, Colin. You always come back to me. Look, you’re doing it again. You didn’t even make it a year this tim
e.” She nods in my direction, but never takes her eyes off him.
That’s it. I’ve had all that I can take. “Colin, I’m not going to listen to this.” I speak, but I don’t recognize my own voice. “You and Jenna obviously have a lot to work out. I’m going home.” I sound like I just ordered the number two with cheese—my voice is calm, taking me by surprise.
Colin finally seems to realize that I am actually in the room. He lunges for me, but I slip out of his grip. Too late, buddy.
I open the hotel room door, but before I go, I turn to Jenna. “How does it feel to always be second best? Do you like being his dirty little secret? I would think that you’d want more for yourself. I guess not.”
A look of shock manages to peek through her Botoxed features. “You disgust me Jenna.”
I slam the hotel door before I can hear her answer. Miguel and Jason trail behind me. I’m sure they’re wondering what just happened in there, but they have the good sense to keep their mouths shut.
I’ve called Aiden before I even get back to the elevators. “You need to get on an earlier flight. I’ve got a problem that needs to be dealt with immediately.”
I hang up before he can respond.
My next call is to Jenny. “Jenna and Colin are together at the Magnolia Hotel. I refuse to pay for her room out of our joint account. Pay for it out of the company’s account, petty cash, panhandle the money for all I care, but not a dime of my money is going toward her.”
Jenny tries her best to calm me down, but I’m too furious to listen.
Next, I call Brad. “I’ve got my family, Colin’s family, Aiden, and Rachael coming in to town tomorrow. My Christmas decorations have been destroyed. Long story. I’ll fill you in later. Please go buy whatever is left in the stores. I’ll see you at my house in an hour.”
I step outside the hotel, grateful that my car is waiting for me. I dismiss my security with a wave goodbye, and try to slip into my car as I hear the cameras snapping away. I know that Jenna tipped them off. She’s trying to ruin Colin, which might be a version of love in her book, but it’s evil in mine.
