Feels Like Home

by Jennifer Van Wyk

  Well now I’m just angry. To be put in the same bucket as Heather, of all people? “You can’t be serious. You haven’t even let me tell you my side of things! You think I got pregnant on purpose? Fell in love with you on purpose? Did all this to what? Show Heather that you would love me instead of her? Are you even listening to yourself?”

  He stays silent, staring daggers into me.

  “You are wrong, Andy. Whatever is going through your head. Whatever you’re thinking right now is wrong. I knew Heather cheated on you with Todd. You’re forgetting that I found out my husband cheated on me and that he had cancer in the same day. My top priority was not running off to tell on Heather. I’m sorry if I made the wrong choice.”

  “You had years to tell me, Christine. Years.”

  “You’re right. I’ll give you that. But you know what? It wasn’t my place. And after Todd passed away, everything else just kind of faded. I’m sorry if I made the wrong choice in not telling you, but do not throw me into the same anything with Heather. You know better than that, and if you’d just get out of your head for one second, you’d figure it out.”

  I get in my car and slam the door shut, backing out of the driveway and praying that I’m able to make it home safely before breaking down entirely.

  And when I get there, I see the cars of Carly, Tess, and Lauren waiting in my driveway.

  “We have ice cream,” Lauren says when she makes her way to my car. She hugs me tightly. “Are you okay?” she whispers in my ear, giving me a tight hug.

  I nod even though I feel nothing close to okay.

  Wondering if I’ll ever feel close to okay again.

  32

  Andy

  “Tess, just wait until we’re all here,” Barrett’s voice yells down the hallway, and I scrunch my eyebrows together and throw the pen I had been spinning on my finger onto my desk.

  “Oh, you’re gonna stop me? Seriously?”

  “Fine. Your funeral, pretty girl.”

  “What the—?” I mumble as I stand up from my desk and slowly take a few steps to the open doorway of my office, only to be shoved back inside by my boss’s irate wife.

  “Just where in the hell do you think you’re going?”

  “Uhh…”

  “Did you warn him?” Josh’s voice comes out in a rush as he starts charging into my office. The second he sees Tess staring me down, he quickly begins backing away only to stumble into his wife and Carly. “Abort mission! Abort mission! Andy, it’s every man for himself! You’re on your own!”

  “Idiots,” Lauren mumbles.

  “Complete morons,” Tess agrees.

  “Ladies,” Carly says with a raise of her eyebrows and nod in my direction.

  “Oh, right. No. They’re not the moronic idiots. It seems you’re the current owner and the reigning champion of that particular title.” Tess glares at me.

  “What did I do?”

  “Are you kidding me?” Carly screeches.

  Lauren places a hand on Carly’s arm and motions to all of us to have a seat. Josh, suddenly super helpful dimwit that he is, pushes another one in from the office he shares with Barrett so all the women can have their own.

  “Aww, thanks, babe. You’re the best,” Lauren says in a voice so sickeningly sweet it makes me want to vomit.

  “Anything for you, baby,” Josh croons.

  “Gag me,” I mutter, which, apparently, I didn’t do quiet enough, and six sets of eyes turn to me, glaring.

  “Shut up. It’s not your turn to talk. We’ll tell you when it is,” Carly says, slamming her fist down on the desk, causing all of us to jump. Carly’s normally sweet and gentle nature is clearly hidden for the time being.

  “You. Are a jackass. Supreme Grade A assholic jackass.”

  “Wow, Tess. Tell me how you really feel.”

  “I would, but I’m a lady and don’t use unkind words.”

  “But you just…”

  “Right. That was me being kind. Jackass.”

  “Is there a point to this meeting, aside from you guys calling me names?”

  “Of course, there is. You’re being stupid, and we’re either going to slap the stupid out of you or you’re going to have to sit and listen to us. Which is it gonna be?”

  “I gotta be honest. Neither sounds appealing at the moment.”

  “That means he’s all for the slapping!” James’s voice bellows from somewhere in the office.

  “I thought you were on my side!”

  “Not when you’re behaving like a total tool, I’m not!”

  “Fuck me. Is anyone not in on it?”

  “Christine,” Lauren, who’s been oddly quiet, tells me.

  “Okay, we’re getting nowhere,” Tess, always the voice of reason, well, unless she’s calling me mean names, cuts in. “Andy. This is an intervention. Because you’re being a jackass of epic proportions.”

  “Oh, so her dating me to get back at Heather isn’t her being a jackass of epic proportions?”

  “Are you literally insane? Certifiable?”

  I glare at Barrett, who has just poked his head in the doorway.

  “Get your ugly mugs in here rather than shouting down the entire office,” I grumble. Chairs scrape, and suddenly the three stooges are pushing chairs into my already small office, only made much smaller by the fact that I have six extra people staring me down.

  All the husbands kiss their wives gently then turn cheeky smiles my way.

  “Who’s the jackass now?”

  “Still you,” Carly sing songs.

  James smirks at his wife then leans forward on his elbows, looking straight at me. “Andy. You’re one of my best friends. You know this. This past year with you helping me? Man, I couldn’t have done it without you. And I got a first row seat to the weird courting ritual that you two had going on. I watched as every time she came into a room your entire demeanor changed.” I open my mouth to interrupt him, but Tess throws a hand in front of my face, effectively telling me to shut up. He chuckles at her. They’re so much alike it’s freaky — and they’re not even twins.

  “As I was saying. I watched as every time you were around her you became calm. Relaxed. The same way that all of us” —he gestures around the room— “are when our husband or wife is around. And she was the same. When you were around her? Her entire face would light up. And no, jackass, it wasn’t because of some weird plan to make you fall in love with her. That happened on its own. Just like her falling in love with you happened on its own. Do you really, truly believe that it’s in Christine to act that way?”

  I think for a moment before blowing out a heavy breath. “It’s just… you have no idea what it’s like. To walk in and see your wife like that? That shit doesn’t just go away. And to find out that Christine knew all along?”

  “Andy,” Lauren says gently, “Is that really what you’re upset about? That she knew? You’ve said time and again that you already knew Heather had cheated long before you caught her.”

  “I did but…”

  “But nothing, Andy,” Tess interrupts.

  “Stop being such a moron, open your damn eyes, and see what’s right in front of you!” Carly ends on a shout.

  Everyone’s eyes widen at her use of words as she blushes slightly, biting her lip. James leans over, pulls her lip out of her teeth’s grasp with his thumb and murmurs something to her that causes her to blush even deeper.

  “Sorry. Got a little carried away there. But you’ve gotta know, she’s not that way.”

  “And how do I know that, huh? Heather once promised in front of three hundred of our closest friends and family and God that she’d be faithful to me for the rest of our lives. I believed her. Why wouldn’t I? What if Christine is just a really good actress? I mean — she fooled all of you all these years into believing that Todd was a stand-up guy.”

  Josh leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “I know you’re pissed. I get it. Really, I do. Clearly, even after that bitch is gone, she’s stil
l trying to mess with your mind. But you need to dig real deep here, Andy. If you don’t forget the crap Heather was spewing and remember that she was only spewing that because she knows that it would mess with you and get in Christine’s head and spread around this town like wildfire, then maybe you don’t deserve Christine after all.”

  And on that, the six of them stand up and walk out the door.

  Lauren walks over and gently lays her hand on my cheek then hauls back and slaps me. “Make smarter choices,” she says before walking out of my office, while I sit holding my stinging cheek and thinking on the words that are stinging my heart.

  33

  Andy

  The boys are at their friend Simon’s house for the night. Something I’ve learned about having twins is that when and where one goes, often does the other. Well, at least with my boys. They have mutual friends, and in a lot of ways they’re identical. Obviously in looks, but in the things they like to do; their interests. But in a lot of ways they’re different. Opposites. And I think that’s part of the appeal when their friends invite them over. They both bring something different to the table.

  I’ve cleaned the kitchen, vacuumed, basically power washed their bathroom, and now understand why moms consistently complain about the fact that boys have shit for aim.

  I shower, make myself something to eat, turn on Netflix, get bored, turn it off. Or rather, struggle to avoid thinking of Christine. Something I really had to do while showering.

  I tug on my hair, glad my hair has grown out and is now longer to pull on as I pace in my living room. I feel like a bull, waiting its turn in the chute to rip into some cowboy who thinks he can overcome the beast.

  The carpet under my feet getting more and more worn as I continue to walk the same path. Back and forth. Back and forth.

  Storming into the kitchen, I rip open the fridge door and pull out a beer. Twisting the cap off, I throw it onto the counter, watching as it bounces a few times then spins on its top until it comes to a stop. Once again, the house is quiet and I can’t stand it. My thoughts threaten to take over, reminding me of the ass chewing I received from my friends a few days ago. Reminding me of what I lost.

  Christine.

  Son of a bitch.

  My baby.

  Our baby.

  Fuck.

  They’re right.

  Of course, they’re right.

  I know Christine.

  Our love? It isn’t made up or misconstrued or created out of some wild revenge plot. It isn’t fake. Aside from the boys? It’s the most real thing in my life.

  I chug down half the bottle in one pull, slamming it back onto the counter with a loud thud.

  I know I should let it go.

  Actually, I know that I was wrong to even accuse her in the first place.

  I know it’s not her fault that Heather cheated eons ago.

  I know she had no obligation to tell me. We didn’t even know each other very well then. And, she was not only dealing with learning of Todd’s dumb ass cheating, but also with the fact that he had cancer. Telling some guy she barely knew that his wife was a cheater was, I’m sure, the last thing on her mind.

  But the bigger realization? I also know that she didn’t start anything with me to get revenge on Heather. It’s just one more of Heather’s stupid lies that I got trapped into believing.

  Part of her venom.

  I think back over the time Christine and I spent together.

  From the time I walked into Dreamin’ Beans right after I caught Heather with her boy toy, every single moment we spent together brought me nothing but happiness.

  I went to her.

  Not the other way around.

  Why am I letting Heather’s vindictive lies still get to me? Still change the course of my life?

  Even divorced, with no legal ties to my boys, she’s still a cunning bitch, trying to control me.

  And I let her.

  Like an idiot.

  With an animalistic roar, I grip the edge of the counter, jerking my body back and forth, trying to steady myself and my raging emotions.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I glance at my keys in the bowl then look away quickly, not wanting to be tempted.

  “Dammit,” I growl.

  I storm over, pissed at myself that I couldn’t resist temptation for even two seconds and rip my keys out of the bowl, shoving them into the pocket of my jeans. I open the garage door and stand in place with my hands on my hips, wondering if I’m really going to leave. That lasts just a few seconds also. Once in my pickup, I push the button to start it up, throw it in reverse, and peel out of my driveway.

  Driving around town, I’m feeling pretty proud of myself. I just needed out of the house. The quiet is what was making me go insane.

  There’s this song that has a line about being tangled up in barbed wire. Damn it all if that’s not the truth. I feel like the time when I was a kid and went to a buddy’s house who lived in the country. He had four-wheelers and, like a typical city kid who had no clue what I was doing, somehow lost control of the four-wheeler his family let me drive and ended up in the barbed wire fence. I had no idea how it had happened, or what to do to remove it. But his mom came out, calm as you please, and pulled up on the top half of the wires, pushing down with her feet on the rest, and my buddy got it pushed out of the tangled mess I had created like it was no big deal.

  That’s exactly how I feel. My heart is so tangled up in Christine and won’t let her go, and I’m starting to wonder if this is my life now or if I even need to keep fighting this. Get over myself, recognize I was the one who fucked up. Not her.

  I need to just pull myself out of the mess and apologize. Grovel like the moron that I am.

  And move on.

  With Christine.

  Because I’m not entirely sure I can really move on without her by my side.

  I know all those things I’m feeling are totally illogical. And I also know that if I don’t pull my head out of my ass soon, I’ll not only lose her forever, but I’ll lose a little bit of my children, too. Not just the baby she’s growing in her beautiful stomach. But my boys, too, who have taken to her like she’s an angel who was dropped right into our path.

  My heart knows I need to move on. Accept it, apologize, and crawl on my knees for her to forgive my jackassery.

  But my head?

  That’s in my way.

  I didn’t think it possible to have more hatred for Heather, but in this moment, I do.

  She didn’t only screw me and the boys over.

  She screwed over Christine, too.

  How many men did she try to seduce?

  How many times was she successful?

  Why wasn’t I enough for her?

  Why weren’t the boys enough for her to realize that she was being selfish?

  Why am I going through all these stupid questions again?

  Before I know it, I’m sitting in front of Christine’s house.

  I knew I would end up here, my hands itching to pull on the handle, letting me out of the confines of my safe space. The light in her living room is on, and I can see the shadow of her walking around before she disappears. I crane my head, hoping to get another glimpse of her. Needing it more than I need the air in my lungs.

  The desire to storm up to her house, throw open the door and take her into my arms, begging her to give me another chance is heavy. Desperate for some feeling, I give in and rush across the street, bounding up the stairs.

  Memories assault me the second I’m on her porch. The time the boys and I picked her up to go to the haunted house. When I picked her up to go to the cabin for a long weekend. When she stood in the kitchen and taught them not only how to cook, but how to bake a cake, only for them to sneakily help me ask her on our first date. Of the evening I picked her up at her house for the first time we would go out to dinner, ending up at the lake where we sat on a blanket on the beach under the stars.

  The feeling of her pinky finger always linking
with mine whenever we were near.

  Of the first time my lips touched hers in this very spot I’m standing right now. It wasn’t our first kiss, but it is still burned into my memory.

  I knew the flame between us would burn bright. Our first kiss only confirmed that. My lips touched hers, and I could feel the fire ignite. The longevity of what we were starting.

  When I walked through this door, holding a bag from Walgreens full of pregnancy tests and bottles of vitamin water, dragging her behind me. I knew she was pregnant. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind. And I couldn’t even bring myself to be upset about it. I was, and still am, damn near giddy at the thought of her carrying my child.

  So why can’t I get over it?

  I bend over at the waist, feeling overwhelmed by the emotions clawing at my heart.

  My love.

  My baby.

  My future is sitting inside this house.

  Not being with her, my heart is torn to pieces.

  She doesn’t deserve the words I spewed at her.

  She doesn’t deserve the doubt I showed.

  I don’t deserve to still be torn apart by Heather’s vicious lies.

  It’s not fair to either of us. Or the boys.

  Gaining the courage, I raise my hand to knock.

  Planning to beg her to tell me that she’ll forgive me.

  That she understands my head is screwed up and I’m blindly walking through this.

  Just as my fist readies, the lights go out. Of the house and my heart.

  I lower my hand, wondering if I should knock anyway, or if I should let it go.

  Pissed at myself for losing courage so quickly. For doubting myself.

  Punking out, I hang my head and sit down on the top step of the porch.

  “Dammit,” I whisper into the wind.

  Resting my elbows on my knees, I scrub my hands through my hair and link my fingers on the back of my head.

  My throat closes up as I anxiously try to take in a breath.

  Once.

  Twice.

  Three times.

  What am I going to do? Life shouldn’t be this complicated. Right now, it feels like an episode of Jerry Springer.