Desperately Seeking Epic

by B. N. Toler

  It’s the first free weekend I can afford to sit down to be interviewed, a month after Paul gave it the go-ahead. “You’re doing great,” Ashley assures me. Mills gives me a thumbs-up from where he stands behind Zane and the camera. Marcus is holding down the fort up front, and Ashley and her crew and I are in one of the more spacious offices, which is usually occupied by both Bowman and Larry, while the guys are out with clients. We’ve already discussed how Paul and I met that terrible day many years ago when I failed to jump. But now she wants to know the gritty stuff. Stuff I haven’t thought about in years. Stuff I hadn’t realized I’d have to talk about.

  “What happened when you went home to Texas?” Ashley asks. I hate talking about this. It was one of the worst days of my life. But Neena asked for this one thing. A true story of how it all came to be . . . how she came to be. So I start talking.

  The flashbacks of thirteen years before, and my first interactions with Paul, coursed through my mind. My attempt—and fail—at jumping left me angry. What a horrible experience. Paul James was an arrogant ass and I wanted nothing to do with him ever again. The whole thing upset me so badly I went straight to my hotel, packed my bag, and headed to the airport. It’s official, I would gladly sell my half to Paul after that experience.

  In the cab ride to the airport, I called Kurt, but it went directly to voicemail. He must be in a meeting, I’d thought. Shocker. I’d call him later.

  It took eight hours to make it home with layovers and such, and by the time I’d hit that blessed Texas soil, I was beat. The only thing I wanted was a warm bath and my husband. So I really hoped he was home. Through the hours of the long journey home, I was overwhelmed with gratitude. No matter how terrible life could get, I had my health, my friends, and Kurt. Our marriage wasn’t perfect, but I loved him and I knew he loved me. He was extremely busy, but I could always count on that. Always.

  After paying the cab driver, I drudged my achy feet up the stairs to our apartment, dragging my gigantic suitcase behind me, wondering what in the hell I packed. Unlocking the door, I pushed it open, yelling, “Babe!” It wasn’t until I was inside that I bothered to look around and saw candles lit. Then I saw Kurt standing near the love seat, hands in the pockets of his slacks, watching me.

  My eyes teared up. I hadn’t realized the toll this trip had taken on me emotionally until then. The man that killed my parents left me half his business. I couldn’t get over that fact. What a mind trip. My heart swelled as I took in the room, the beautiful candles, and my handsome husband. He was my rock; my steady.

  “You’re home,” Kurt sputtered, his tone uncertain.

  “Yeah,” I sighed as I shut the door and flung myself on him. His arms gingerly wrapped around me. “I love you so much. Thank you for this.”

  “Clara,” he grumbled my name as he peeled me away from him. “We need to—” The sound of the toilet flushing in the hall bathroom interrupted him, causing me to jerk back. Did I just hear that?

  “Who’s here?” I asked as the sink cut on for a moment before cutting off again.

  Kurt dropped his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s not what you think, Clara.”

  I stared at him a moment, waiting for him to clarify, but he didn’t have to. The tall, leggy woman with long, brown hair that emerged from the restroom and froze when she saw me was enough clarification. Her eyes darted to Kurt, then back to me, then back to Kurt.

  “Yes, that’s right,” I finally said. “I’m his wife who showed up unexpectedly. And you would be . . . ?”

  “You should go Daisy,” Kurt interjected.

  “Her name is Daisy?” I asked in disbelief. Daisy, to her extreme credit, grabbed her purse and left. Kurt immediately turned the lights on and started blowing the candles out. My heart sunk realizing what a fool I was. I thought this was for me. But how stupid was that? Kurt didn’t even know I was coming home. Of course it wasn’t for me.

  “Who is she?” I quietly gritted out.

  “A friend,” he mumbled as he lowered his head.

  “How long have you two been seeing each other?” My anger anchored me, allowing me the strength to question him without breaking down right away. My voice was calm and steady, my gaze direct even though Kurt looked anywhere else but at me. Coward.

  “I haven’t slept with her,” he stated as he picked up two candles and walked past me to the kitchen. “She’s a friend.”

  Turning, I crossed my arms, my blood pressure rising as each second passed. “So you always hang out with your female friends in candle light?”

  Shoving the candles into the cabinet, he shut the door and leaned his head against it for a moment before turning to face me. My stomach flipped when his gaze met mine. I could read his thoughts before he even spoke. He didn’t love me anymore. Not like a husband should love a wife, anyway.

  “I haven’t cheated, Clara. I need you to know that. But if I’m being honest . . .” He paused and clenched his eyes closed before opening them again, “I’ve wanted to,” he finished.

  I blinked furiously in an attempt to stop the tears, but they fell anyway. “I thought things were better. I thought we were better.”

  Running a wide palm down his face, he squeezed his eyes closed and groaned. “I don’t want children, Clara.”

  “But you wanted to try too. You agreed. We spent a year trying—”

  “I wanted to make you happy,” he interrupted. “You wanted a baby and I thought if it makes you happy, why not? But then when we got into it and it didn’t happen . . . you changed.”

  “And I put it off to work on us,” I defended, my voice raspy with hurt.

  “Yes, but it feels like you’re only going through the motions. Yeah, we hang out and have sex, but I can feel it in you. You’re biding time until we can get back to trying again.”

  “That’s not true,” I cried. “I’ve given it my all.”

  He walked around the counter until he stood two feet before me. “And so have I,” he said quietly. “But sometimes,” he sighed with a frown, “that’s just not enough.”

  “Kurt,” I whispered his name ever so quietly, the word a plea for him not to do this. And even though I could reach out and touch him, I could hug him, claw him, or tear into his flesh with my teeth . . . it wouldn’t have mattered.

  He was already gone.

  “I’m going to go stay with my parents for a while. I’d like to keep the apartment, but I know you’ll need some time to make arrangements.”

  With that, he walked back to our bedroom and began packing his things. I sat on the couch, crying, holding my face in my hands, wondering if anything could possibly hurt as much as this. Little did I know, many years later, I’d discover what pain really was.

  Ashley scoots back in her seat, visually uncomfortable, her mouth in a tight line. She’s so young; only a senior in high school. I doubt she can even comprehend the magnitude of the story I just told her. Or, maybe she can. Maybe she wasn’t expecting this kind of brutal honesty or so much detail.

  “Kurt sounds like a dick,” she surmises.

  I almost choke on my saliva as I laugh. So she does understand . . . kind of. There was a time when remembering that conversation with Kurt would send me into a fit of tears, but now, it seems like something that happened in another life.

  Seeing my reaction, Ashley chuckles, but she’s determined. She wants the story, so she goes on. “So what happened after that? What brought you back to Virginia?”

  “I guess I decided I needed a change.” I take a sip of coffee before I continue.

  Two days later, on Monday morning, I was back at work, but only in the physical sense. My mind was elsewhere. I worked at a prominent orthodontics office in the Dallas area. I loved it there. It was special to watch someone come in with a smile they hated and get to see them the day they got their braces off. Especially the adults. Those were the people who spent their lives hiding their teeth, hand cupped over their mouth, afraid to smile genuinely, who now left the
office feeling like brand-new people. Seeing the kids was great, but adults appreciate it so much more. They knew how much it meant. The work aside, I loved my coworkers. They were nuts and it made each day, even the bad ones, fly by.

  “You look like you’re wearing clamdiggers, Vanessa,” Ally noted. Vanessa looked down at her pants where she stood in front of the microwave, heating her soup. Vanessa stood at 5’8, with her legs making up most of her height. She chortled at Ally’s statement, her big, bright, white smile beaming against her mocha skin.

  “They shrunk in the dryer,” she argued.

  “You sure you’re not wearing one of your kid’s pants?” Ally continued.

  “Shut up, Ally,” Vanessa laughed. “They started as pants and now they’re capris. You’re just jealous I don’t have to get a stepladder to reach anything over four feet tall.”

  “I’m not that short,” Ally pointed out, and chucked a potato chip at Vanessa as she sat down with her sandwich. The chip landed on Vanessa’s chest, her ample bosom preventing it from sliding off.

  They both burst into hilarity before Vanessa took the chip and popped it in her mouth. “Thanks for the chip.”

  Ally unwrapped her turkey sandwich. “I almost don’t want to eat,” she told us. “I had Benji Rickman as my last patient this morning.”

  “That’s rough,” Vanessa noted as she gently blew on the spoonful of soup.

  “I swear, I don’t think the kid ever brushes his teeth,” Ally said, her southern accent thick, especially when she was worked up about something. “I picked enough food out of his brackets to feed a third world country. And I’m pretty sure he ate SpaghettiOs for breakfast.”

  Vanessa dropped her spoon in her bowl of soup, cutting Ally an annoyed look. “Do you have to talk about that while I’m eating? For real?”

  Ally snorted around the chip she had just popped in her mouth, her blue eyes filled with mirth. “Sorry. I wanted you both to share in my pain.” She shrugged. “His gums were swollen over the brackets. Bled like a stuffed pig.”

  Vanessa leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms under her ginormous breasts. Ally threw her head back, laughing her ass off. What I loved most about my coworkers was we could say anything to each other. There was no shame. “She’s about to make me lose my religion,” Vanessa said to me. I smirked a little to show her I heard her, but I really wasn’t listening. I felt like a zombie. The usual hysterics just weren’t cutting it today. All I could think about was how my life was rapidly disintegrating.

  Silence fell between us and when I looked up, I saw Vanessa giving Ally a pointed look while Ally shook her head no.

  “What?” I asked. They both looked at me then back to one another. “What? Spit it out,” I demanded.

  “Tell her,” Vanessa insisted.

  Ally dropped her head and rest it on the table for a moment. When she raised her head again, uncertainty was rich in her eyes. “Um . . . When you were gone last week . . .” She paused, inhaling and exhaling awkwardly. “Jeb and I went down to Ft. Worth. We stopped for lunch and sat at the bar while we waited for a table. Jeb saw them first.”

  I cocked my head to the side as I stared at her through narrowed eyes. Jeb is Ally’s husband. They’re disgustingly in love and right now I hate them for it. Well, not really, but kind of. I refused to ask her who Jeb saw. Deep down, I already knew.

  Ally gave Vanessa another awkward look. “They saw Kurt with a brunette,” Vanessa finally stated, earning a dramatic eye-roll from Ally.

  “Damn, Nes.”

  “What?” Vanessa asked, chewing the saltine in her mouth. “There’s no sugarcoating that.”

  “I was trying to put it delicately.” Ally moves her attention back to me. “Jeb and I could be way off base, Clara, but they looked . . . cozy.”

  Pushing my salad away, I sat up rigidly.

  “You already knew, didn’t you?” Vanessa questioned, reaching across the table and squeezing my arm.

  “Did you?” Ally asked, her eyes widening.

  “He told me Friday night. Or, rather, I walked in on them and then he told me.”

  “What a piece of shit,” Ally gasped. “He had her in your apartment?”

  I nodded then made a pfff sound. “He swears they haven’t slept together.”

  Ally’s mouth hung open. “Let me walk in on Jeb in our house with another woman. It’s gonna be some Lorena Bobbitt shit all over again.”

  “That dude ended up in the porn business. You know, after it was reattached. Not sure that turned out like Lorena thought it would,” Vanessa argued.

  “I’m pretty sure a man getting his dick cut off is punishment, no matter how much porn snatch he got in the end,” Ally pointed out.

  “Ally,” Vanessa snorted, lowering her head to hide her smile. “You are so . . . wrong, on so many levels.” Most of the time, Vanessa was a woman of high regard. On the rare occasions, she slipped. I imagined she was more like Ally and I before she had children, but her kids were her life, and she worked hard to live right in both thought and action. She tried to provide examples not only to her children, but to everyone. Ally just knew how to push her buttons. Regardless, I admired Nes. Watching her with her kids made me want one of my own so desperately; to not only feel that level of love, but to give it. It was beautiful. Ally, also a wonderful person, had a dirty ass mind. But she was by far one of the brightest people I had ever met—both in mind and spirit. She could take the worst situation and bring laughter to it. I cherished them both as friends. It’s rare to find people you can tell your darkest secrets to and know that not only will they not judge you, but will help you find the bright side.

  “I don’t plan on removing any of his appendages, ladies,” I cut in.

  “So . . . what happened?” Ally asked. My eyes teared up with the question, and I wiped at them quickly.

  “He isn’t in love with me anymore,” I rasped, my bottom lip quivering. “We’re getting a divorce.” It was in that moment I realized the hell the next few months of my life would be . . . maybe even years. Of course, people I knew would run into Kurt with his new girlfriend and report back to me. Especially friends. And even if they didn’t, it was only a matter of time before I ran into them myself, and that was something I just couldn’t bear.

  I glanced up at my girls. Neither really knew what to say. Instead of speaking, they scooted their chairs closer to mine and took turns hugging me while I cried. When I managed to calm down a bit, I told them about my trip to Virginia and the business that was left to me.

  “Now what the hell am I supposed to do?” I hiccupped.

  “Well clearly you decided to come here,” Ashley notes as she looks at the notebook she’s been writing in. “How’d that come to be?” They all wait for my reply.

  I’ve been sitting in one position for far too long. I adjust in my seat and clear my throat. I can’t help smiling a little, even though at the time I felt like my soul was being crushed.

  “Who farted? Vanessa?” Ally questioned as she twisted her neck and looked back at Vanessa.

  “It wasn’t me,” Vanessa mumbled. She was sitting in the backseat, her head laid back on the headrest, as she dozed with one of those sleep masks on.

  “This traffic is horrendous,” I groaned. We were thirty minutes away from Sky High Skydiving when we hit traffic and hadn’t moved in over an hour. I was grateful for their company on the trip, especially since they were only able to stay two days because they’d have to get back to work. When I’d told them my plans, there was no question for them—they were going to help me. At first, I wasn’t comfortable with imposing on either of them. But Ally had quickly reassured me, stating, “Jed is a grown ass man. He can hold his own for a couple of days.” Vanessa was also on board. Knowing how—understandably—attached she was to her kids, I waited till the weekend, when her husband volunteered to visit with the grandparents.

  “We could’ve flown if someone wasn’t scared shitless of planes,” Ally said, twisting her mo
uth. It was obvious she was talking about Vanessa who was terrified of flying.

  “I don’t want to die,” Vanessa murmured.

  “There is, like, a one in a million chance you’d die in a plane crash. You’re more likely to die in a car wreck,” Ally argued as she lowered her window and spit her gum out as if she were hawking a loogie.

  “That was ladylike,” I said dryly, to which Ally stuck her tongue out at me.

  “But a car is on the ground,” Vanessa muttered, getting back to the previous topic.

  Ally looked at me and shook her head. She had huge brown sunglasses on that made her head look mutant and tiny and even though I couldn’t see her eyes, I knew she was rolling them. I somehow managed to laugh quietly.

  “Stop talking smack, Ally,” Vanessa warned. Even with the mask on she knew we were laughing at her, which only made us laugh more.

  We both burst into laughter as I put the car in drive because traffic started moving. Unfortunately, we only moved a tiny bit before stopping again. But, yay, we were getting closer. “It’s good to see you smile, Clara,” Ally said. “It’s been a while.”

  For some reason the statement made me want to cry, but I fought it. It had been five weeks since Kurt abandoned me. And I wasn’t feeling any better about it. Yeah, he was a major asshole, but I missed him. I hated the thought of divorce. I hated I’d failed—or rather we failed. He was my husband. I loved him. I wasn’t ready to give up on him. I hadn’t left when we’d failed at having a baby. And our failed marriage was something I stupidly would have worked on. So I didn’t leave without giving it one more shot. I had to try. So I called him. He didn’t answer. Then I called him again. No answer. At that point, I was not going to sugarcoat it . . . it hurt like hell. After three weeks and three voice mails, he finally returned my call and agreed to meet me for coffee.