“When you…” I gulped and took another sip of wine. Two years later and I still couldn’t say the words out loud. “When you did that to me, I started to not only doubt your love for me, I doubted myself. I didn’t think I was worthy of anyone’s love at all.” Simon opened his mouth to speak, but shut it quickly. “That fucked me up big time, Simon. It really hurt like nothing else could ever hurt.” I tilted the glass back and finished off the wine without even coming up for air. Holding the glass out to my ex-husband, I demanded, “More.”
He pulled the bottle off of the counter and set it in front of me. I nodded in appreciation as I put the bottle to my lips and took a giant swig. “I didn’t hate you even as much as I hated myself. I hated myself for trusting you, and I hated myself for falling in love with you in the first place. For letting you hurt me.” I sighed. “You didn’t do anything worse than what had been done to me before. But it was because I believed you loved me;—that’s what screwed me up so badly.”
Simon did not hold back any longer. “Lizzie, I loved you then and I still love you now.”
“Stop it, Simon. You’re not allowed to say that to me.”
“Okay, I won’t say it, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel it.”
“Save it. You’re not going to sweep in here, over two years after the fact and think I’m going to fall in love with you again. It’s not going to happen.”
“That’s not what I was thinking would happen. I was just hoping we could be friends again, Lizzie. I miss our friendship.”
I poured myself another glass, the wine sloshing over the sides. “I have friends. I don’t need more friends. I even have a gay friend.” I poked his nose as I spoke. I was starting to feel the effects of the alcohol already.
“That’s charming. But we were together for so long, Lizzie. Doesn’t that at least merit something?”
“It merits me letting you live in this apartment. That’s it, Simon. All you are to me is a renter in my apartment.” Simon’s face fell as I drunkenly went on. “Oh, yeah. You’re going to pay rent now. I want two-hundred dollars for every week that you’re here.” I slapped my palm down on the table.
“Sounds reasonable,” Simon agreed. “I’ll get my checkbook.” He stood up and stepped into the living room.
It sounds reasonable? Really? I was thinking it sounded ridiculous. This was originally Simon’s apartment before we got married and he was going to pay me to live here? I was certain that Simon would put up a fight and leave. Instead, he was scribbling in his checkbook.
Tearing off a check, he handed it to me. “There’s two-hundred for last week and another two-hundred for this coming week. It’s a good faith deposit.”
I squinted at the check in the candlelight. “How do I know it’s good?”
Simon shrugged. “I don’t know. Cash it. It is good.”
“Fine.” I shoved the check into the pocket of my jeans as I stood up. When I attempted to leave the kitchen, Simon grabbed my arm.
“We really can be friends, Elizabeth. I still love you, but I would never get in the way of you and your boyfriend, what’s his name.”
“It’s Austin. And he’s not my boyfriend.” I waved my ring finger around. “He’s my fiancé now.”
Simon looked like I had slapped him. I could see the outline of his Adam’s apple when he swallowed hard.
“Yeah, that’s right. I’ve moved on,” I announced triumphantly. “And you better move on, too. Start looking for a place to live tomorrow.”
I grabbed the remainder of the wine bottle and headed toward my room. Before reaching the door, I turned around. “I want you out of here and out of my life as soon as possible. If you ruin this for me, I’ll never forgive you.” I slammed the bedroom door without even looking at him. And then, I sank onto the floor and cried.
Nine
Interlacing my fingers with Austin’s, I leaned back in the seat of the train. “This is nice,” I commented, smiling at him. My fiancé. And it was nice. Being out together, having a normal day like normal couples. No baseball, no ex-husband. Austin returned my smile and then detached his hand from mine.
“I just need to do a little research for the game. Coach’s orders.” He flipped opened his iPad and began scrolling through his stats file. After reviewing his own statistics for the week, he would then start examining those of his opponents. I never really saw the usefulness in this strategy since Austin always seemed to look good on the field no matter what.
Sighing, I stared out the window as the train started to gather speed. We would be in Bloomfield shortly and then we would have exactly two hours to eat and hang out with my family before we needed to race back to the train station so that Austin could be on time for his game tonight. That was, if the trains were running on time. I felt like even when we were together, we were constantly rushing around, never having a moment of relaxation. I guess I should be thrilled that I even had him for those few hours. It was rare that I ever got to spend any time with him during baseball season, let alone a Sunday.
We were on our way to my mother’s house for brunch. It had been nearly a week since our engagement, and this was the first opportunity we were getting to share the news with Mom. I really wanted to tell her in person and flash my ring to see what kind of reaction I got from her. I was pretty certain that Mom liked Austin, but I needed to see her face when I announced the news. I wanted to make sure she wasn’t angry or disappointed again. I spoke to my mother on the phone almost daily, and it had been very difficult to keep the engagement a secret. Every time she brought something up about the girl across the street getting married or wanted to bitch and moan about my brother’s wife, I wanted to shout, “Guess what, Mom? I’m getting married! And to the right guy this time!” Funny thing was, in the entire year since I was let go from The Tribute, I never had any desire to blurt out that I was unemployed or constantly on job interviews. I guess I was only bursting to share happy news.
As I gazed out the window, I focused on the rails quickly whizzing by. It was enough to make me want to close my eyes. I wouldn’t go to sleep—instead I would think about how I was going to share my joyous news. The only problem was that I was worried that my mother would still not be overjoyed about my engagement.
After his romantic proposal, we had snuggled naked on the floor for a while with my favorite fleece blanket wrapped around us. Austin wasn’t normally a cuddler, so this was an unusual occurrence. Yet, I couldn’t even enjoy it. My eye was trained on the door, just waiting for Simon to bust in and ruin the entire thing. I kept thinking, I should have hung a sock on the door. But then I realized, Simon would probably take pleasure in completely ruining a romantic moment with my future husband. I will enjoy this, I ordered myself, snuggling closer to my fiancé.
Stroking the insides of Austin’s smooth triceps, I gazed up at him. The lights were off and the moonlight was streaming into the apartment, casting an angelic glow on his handsome face. “So what did my mother say when you asked her to marry me?”
“Huh?” was Austin’s confused response.
“When you called my mother up and asked her permission to marry me. What did she say?”
“Why would I do that?” Austin was completely befuddled. Even in the dim light I could see he had no comprehension of what I was talking about. And what’s more, I couldn’t believe this was happening again! Another guy forgets to ask my parents for my hand in marriage. What are the odds? We were already starting off on the wrong foot here.
I smacked my forehead with my palm. “Because that’s what you’re supposed to do, Austin! You’re supposed to ask the girl’s parents for her hand in marriage!” Was he really that stupid? He never heard of this age old tradition before?
“I thought that was like, an old fashioned thing from the fifties. How was I supposed to know I had to do that?”
I shook my head. “You always have to do that! That’s how my parents roll! God, that’s what Sim…” Shut up, Elizabeth! No Simon! You can’t poi
nt out how Simon never asked and it screwed everything up!
“Your Dad’s dead, Elizabeth,” Captain Obvious pointed out.
“Thanks for reminding me, Austin.” I fought back tears and my lip trembled. My father was dead. He would have been so happy about Austin, too. Austin was a man’s man, the type of guy my Dad liked to pal around with. And baseball was his favorite sport. Which was probably the reason I was so into it.
Dad and I used to sit on the couch every Sunday, his only day off, and watch the Mets on WPIX together. He would explain the positions and the rules of the game to me. He even showed me how to keep score in the book. We talked about statistics and our hopes for the Mets to win the World Series (which hasn’t happened in my lifetime). We didn’t do much together, but that was the one thing that was “ours”.
“I just figured since he was dead, I couldn’t ask him,” Austin was explaining.
“So what, my mother’s chopped liver?” I clapped my hand over my mouth. I sounded very Italian just then. When I got upset, the accent I didn’t know I had always came rushing out. Along with the exaggerated hand motions. I sounded like I was standing on a street corner in Brooklyn. I shoved my hands underneath my bare bottom to prevent that from happening.
Austin protested, “That’s not how I meant it. I just meant…
Damn, I fucked this up.” He ran his fingers through his hair nervously.
Oh no. Now I’ve destroyed the perfect proposal with my big fat mouth. I reached behind Austin and snapped on the light next to the sofa. “No, you didn’t. It was very nice. I’m sorry I got upset. You’re right. You couldn’t know that this would be as important as it is.”
“Yeah, but I should have asked your mother and it ruined it for you.” Austin was pouting. “I’m sorry.”
“Stop it.” I leaned forward and kissed him on the forehead. “We can fix this. I just have to tell her about the engagement in person. I’ll tell her it was all my idea and I proposed. God knows we can’t really tell her about how you proposed.” I grinned as I tickled his naked armpit.
“Hey, hey,” Austin pulled away. “Your hands are cold!” The expression on his face told me he was serious.
“Sorry. I thought you liked to be tickled.”
“Well I don’t.” Oh crap. That was Simon who liked to be tickled. I bit my lip and grimaced.
“Sorry.”
“You would lie to your mom and tell her you proposed instead of me?”
I shrugged, “Sure. I’d rather her not feel hurt by the whole thing, you know? And it doesn’t really matter who proposed.” And what’s one more lie on top of the pile of lies already?
I immediately began to argue with myself silently. You haven’t actually lied about Simon, Elizabeth. You simply omitted him. It wasn’t like Austin ever asked, “Do you have an ex-husband? Is he living in your apartment?” I mean, if he had asked me either of those questions, of course I would have answered truthfully. Duh.
“I just don’t know if I can lie to your mother. I would feel better if I told her that I screwed up,” Austin explained as he pulled his tee shirt over his head. And then she’ll think you’re just like Simon and she won’t like you! I need her to like you, Austin!
“No!” I shouted, jumping to my feet.
“What is wrong with you?” Austin asked with a mixture of annoyance and concern.
“Nothing. Just, can we please do this my way? You can tell your parents and your friends and everyone else whatever you want, but we need to tell my mother this tiny white lie.”
Austin shrugged. “I’m not happy about it. Don’t you think it’ll get complicated? What if my mother says something to your mother?”
Damn, I didn’t think of that. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” I assured him. Along with every other bridge I’ve built up in the last week.
The train grinded to halt and my eyes snapped open. I turned to Austin in a panic. “What happened?”
A bewildered expression crossed his face. “Nothing. We’re at the station.”
“Already?” I grabbed his wrist and glanced his watch. Usually it took forty-five minutes to get there. By golly, it was already ten o’clock. I must have completely spaced out.
“Yeah, you were asleep,” Austin informed me as he gathered up his iPad and my knock off Coach bag. He handed me the purse as he added, “You were babbling in your sleep, too.”
I nearly stepped off the platform. Austin gripped my arm tightly. “Whoa, whoa! Watch the gap, remember?”
“Uh, thanks. What did I say?” I asked nervously.
“About what?” Austin was leading me to the taxi waiting area like I was a shriveled up old lady with a walker.
“In my sleep. What did I say in my sleep?”
Austin shrugged as we approached the taxi that Austin obviously called while I was sleeping. “Oh, not really sure. Something about Simon says blah, blah, blah and lying and cheating.” Opening the taxi door for me, he raised his eyebrow and asked, “Did you use to cheat at Simon Says as a kid?”
Okay, that works. Go with it. “Yeah, I was awful.” I added a nervous chuckle as I slid into the backseat. “None of the neighborhood kids wanted to play with me. That’s what I must have been dreaming about. Because we’re going to my childhood home and all that.”
Oh, good. Just compound the lie. That always makes it easier. Maybe you should start writing down your lies, Elizabeth. That way you can remember them when you get called out next time. It’ll put your sticky notes to good use at any rate.
Fiddling with the fraying strap of my bag, I stared out the window for the remainder of the ride, hoping that Austin wouldn’t ask me any more questions. It was getting harder and harder to cover up Simon’s existence.
Simon had been keeping his bags and belongings in the front hall closet. I told him this was essential in order for him to stay with me. After all, I needed to keep the place neat. He had laughed at me, but agreed. Yet, his personal effects kept finding their way around the apartment, just like they had when we were married. When Austin came to pick me up that very morning, I thankfully spotted Simon’s shoe next to my coffee table and was able to kick it underneath the couch before Austin saw it.
Did I mention I gave Austin a key to the apartment? Oh, yeah. I was just asking for trouble. This was going to work out really well. I had no idea where Simon went during the day, nor did I know when he would return. He came and went as he pleased, and really, what right did I have to question his whereabouts? And now Austin also had a key. Austin lived outside the city, closer to the stadium, but who knows if he would ever stop by and “surprise” me again? I’m sure he wouldn’t have questions if he popped by and found Simon’s underwear in my bathroom. I was mentally calculating how many more days until he went on the road again. For once, I couldn’t wait until he left.
Also, I’m pretty sure Simon was under the impression that I had come clean to Austin about my marriage. So if Austin were to show up when I was not home, I’m thinking Simon wouldn’t hesitate to introduce himself. Or put him in a headlock. I’m not sure which one would be more likely.
The cab pulled up in front of my mother’s house and I reached inside my wallet for the fare. Austin quickly covered my hand with his. “I got this. After all, you proposed to me. Let me at least pay for the cab ride.” I searched his face for signs that he was teasing, but couldn’t find any. Oh just fabulous. Now he’s pissed about the proposal lie. I can’t win.
I climbed out of the taxi and approached my parents’ front door with Austin trailing behind me. I reached back, holding my hand out to him.
Hello, Austin! We’re supposed to be happily engaged! Come hold my bloody hand! Austin took my hand, but he seemed reluctant. You’re imagining things. Everything is fine.
Opening the unlocked front door, we stepped into my parents’ front foyer, awkwardly, because it was quite small. My dad had always talked about expanding it because my lazy brothers would come in the house and just dump everythin
g on the floor (okay, and I would, too). It was nearly impossible to get the door open with five pairs of shoes blocking the way.
I didn’t even know why I kept thinking about it as “my parents’ house” anyway. It was just my mom’s house. A house she was seriously in danger of losing if she didn’t get it together and figure out how to pay her bills. And I don’t mean she was lacking money—she actually didn’t know how to pay bills.
Nearly every single Sunday after brunch my brothers and I would sit down with her and explain to her exactly how much money she had, what bills she needed to pay, and what she would have left over. And every single Monday like clockwork, I got a frantic phone call from her, unsure of what she was supposed to do. I would reiterate what Pete, Sonny, and I had told her the day before, and without fail, she would say, “Oh yes, that’s right.” And then she would go off on some tangent about the neighbor’s cats peeing on her gardenias or about some kid I went to high school with that she met in the grocery store that day. I was starting to think either she needed to get a job, a hobby, or friends her own age. It was becoming exhausting being my mother’s only “friend”.
“Elizabeth! You’re early!” My mother bustled into the living room to greet us. She held out her arms and Austin stepped back out of her reach. Despite the fact that Mom had her sleeves rolled up and one of her many aprons on, she was covered from head to foot in flour. It didn’t faze me—I was used to my unkempt mother. She spent hours cleaning the house, but she was always a wreck. My father had always been the one who reminded her to straighten herself up.
As my mother hugged me, I glanced over her shoulder to see mountains of papers stacked on the dining room table. This was a new development.
I pulled away and asked nervously, “Mom, what are all those papers?”
My mother blushed and fanned herself, sending flour flying off of her hand. Austin stepped back even further into the foyer to avoid the white cloud, nearly tripping over the pair of shoes at the entrance. Why my father’s golf shoes were still sitting there all those months later was beyond me.
[2013] Note to Self- Change the Locks Page 11
