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[2013] Note to Self- Change the Locks

Page 21

by Heather Balog


  “I’m sorry,” I attempted to yell over the blasting stereo. I turned the volume down. “I overreacted back there, but I have a problem—”

  Austin cut me off. “I don’t care, Elizabeth. You embarrassed me in front of my entire family.”

  I flushed. “I apologize, but I’m trying to explain…”

  “There is nothing to explain. There’s no reason a grown woman can’t sit through a religious ceremony without having to run off to the potty like a kindergartener. Sorry it was so boring for you, but that’s life. Suck it up.”

  “It’s not that it was boring,” I protested. It was mind-numbing boring, but that wasn’t the point.

  “Save it. I don’t care.” Austin cranked the dial back up to a deafening decibel level.

  I opened my mouth once more and then closed it abruptly.

  Why bother? When Austin was annoyed, there was no point in talking to him. He wouldn’t hear me. Not until he had a few beers in him. Then he would be fine and dandy again.

  After a heart stopping ride on the LIE, we pulled into the reception hall parking lot and Austin drove up to the valet parking area. Hopping out of the car, he tossed the keys to the valet and opened my door. I struggled to my feet since the dress seemed to be suffocating my nerve endings. Austin didn’t put his hand out to assist me. Instead, the doorman rushed to my side and offered his arm.

  Fine. We can both play this juvenile game, Austin. I took the doorman’s arm appreciatively and strutted to the door without a sideways glance at my date.

  Once inside the grandiose marbled hall, I veered to the right toward the place-card table. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Austin heading in the opposite direction. Of course. Toward the bar.

  Well, at least he’ll be a little more pleasant in an hour.

  I approached the table which only held about a dozen randomly scattered seating cards. Okay, so maybe we were late. The owners of the rest of these cards were probably no shows. I searched the remaining cards until I located the one which said, “Mr. Austin Cooper and guest”. My blood started to boil.

  And guest? I would be Austin’s wife in three months and I was ‘guest’? Clenching my fists at my sides I scanned the expansive ballroom to my left, searching for the bride. I wanted to punch Laura.

  Calm down, Elizabeth. You know how stressed brides are. Someone else may have filled out the place-cards. Maybe her handwriting is so illegible that person couldn’t read your name and they didn’t want to bother an already overwhelmed bride with that detail. Yup. That had to be it. I needed to stop overreacting about stupid things.

  I didn’t know what had gotten into me lately. I was flying off the handle about everything. Must be the wedding. And Simon.

  I caught a glimpse of Austin, edged up to the bar with a handful of his male relatives. He had a beer in his hand and was laughing already.

  That’s what I need. I’ll have a nice drink and calm down. As I strolled over to the bar, I noticed quite a few of the men standing around were shooting me appreciative glances. I peered down at my saran-wrap-like dress. Could it be? Did I really look as sexy as Nora claimed I did?

  What the hell! I might as well make this worth their while. Sashaying my hips seductively, I made my way across the ballroom floor. A few men and even a woman or two turned to peek as I passed. Some were a little more inconspicuous than others, while a few just seemed to gawk. When I reached the bar, several of the men gathered in front of it parted to allow me through.

  Austin’s cousin, Kenny, who was already impossibly three sheets to the wind, leaned in to me, obviously admiring my cleavage. I did have to admit, my cleavage did look amazing in this dress. But then again, my perky and voluptuous breasts were just about the only feature I had been blessed with. God help me the day they start to sag. I may just jump off a roof. Maybe I can use my boobs as a parachute.

  “What can I get you to drink, pretty lady?” Kenny slurred. I felt a drop of drool hit my naked shoulder.

  Austin stepped in. “Hey, hey, hey. Knock it off, douchebag. That’s my girl.” He protectively wrapped his arm around me.

  Oh, so now I was his girl. How convenient.

  Kenny playfully shoved at his cousin and spoke with a deep Southern accent. “No way she’s your girl, cuz. She is a knock-out. What would she want with a washed up old baseball ball player like you?” He tilted his head back toward the horde of bar huggers behind him, awaiting their eruption into laughter.

  No laughter came. Instead, a hush fell over the crowd. Austin stood to his full height of six-two and stared down at his much shorter, two-hundred and thirty pound cousin.

  “Watch what you say, Kenny.” Austin poked him in the shoulder with his pointer finger, causing Kenny to lose his balance and drop to the floor. Kenny just sat there like a deflated balloon and no one made a move to help him up.

  Satisfied, Austin pulled me closer to him. “Come on. Let’s go mingle.”

  Oh now we’re going to be together? Oh, I’ve got news for you mister.

  I shook my head defiantly as I firmly planted my heels. “No, I want a drink.”

  “The line is really long. We can get a drink at the table,” Austin insisted.

  “Kenny offered to get me a drink,” I remarked smuggly.

  Color crept up Austin’s neck. He gripped my arm tighter and drew me close to his muscular body. “Kenny is scum. He lives in a trailer and he’s been divorced twice,” he hissed.

  “So what? He seems like a nice guy.” I contradicted.

  “Just… just stay away from him,” Austin stammered as he practically dragged me toward the cocktail table area.

  “I was just going to let him get me a drink, Austin. I wasn’t planning on sleeping with the guy.”

  Austin paused and stared at me. “That’s not even funny,” he remarked with complete sincerity.

  Throwing my hands in the air, I relented. “Fine. Sorry. No more jokes.” Then I couldn’t resist being snarky. “This is a serious occasion after all.”

  Still clutching my arm, Austin steered me toward a vacant table in the corner of the room, right next to a gaudy looking fountain with a fish spitting water into a gold ornate pool. Releasing his grip on me, he pointed to the chair at the table. “Sit,” he commanded like someone ordering their dog.

  I obediently sat as he dragged up another chair next to me and ran his fingers through his dark blonde, sundrenched locks. I loved running my own hands through Austin’s sandy colored hair. It was soft and fluffy, and just the right length to comb through. A lot of his teammates opted for the easy buzz cut, but Austin took pride in maintaining his coiffed do.

  Sighing, Austin leaned in toward me wearing a weary expression. “I wasn’t planning to tell you this about Kenny, but I guess I have no choice.” He scooted his chair even closer to me and instinctively, I bowed my head down to receive this juicy gossip. Was Kenny a serial killer or once was a woman or something bizarre like that?

  With our heads touching, Austin continued in a hushed tone. “Three years ago, I was engaged to a girl named Vanessa.”

  My head snapped back like a bungee cord. “What?”

  He was engaged and never mentioned this?

  Austin turned absolutely crimson as he stammered, “Well, I wanted to tell you, but we weren’t talking about our exes and…” His voice trailed off as he stared down at his fingernails.

  Oh hello, Miss Hypocrite? Your conscience here. Remember you were married before and you never mentioned it. Well, here you go…perfect time to bring it up.

  I opened my mouth to speak, but Austin started explaining in a monotone voice, “Vanessa and I were engaged for almost two years. We were planning the perfect wedding. Everything was going great.” Austin’s face clouded up and he stared off at the spitting fish. “Until the month before our wedding. My grandmother died and at the funeral, Vanessa met Kenny. ”

  I inhaled sharply. Uh oh, I think I know where this is going. And boy did it explain a lot.

  “It wa
s ridiculously cliché. I found them in the coatroom of the frigging funeral parlor for God’s sake.”

  Ouch.

  Not knowing what else to do, I reached for Austin’s hand and patted it encouragingly. I could see the tears in his eyes as he glanced up appreciatively at me.

  He shrugged. “Long story short, we called off the wedding and she actually married Kenny. They were divorced in six months.” He was unable to hide his smug satisfaction.

  “She was knocking on my door right after their divorce, wanting me back. I told her to go to hell. Because by then, I had the girl of my dreams.” He squeezed my hand.

  I smiled uneasily. Now, Elizabeth. Now. Tell him about Simon. He’ll understand. He withheld information from you, too. Tit for tat here.

  My foot started tapping impatiently under the table. Squeezing my eyes shut so that I couldn’t see Austin’s reaction, I blurted out, “I was engaged once, too.”

  Dead silence.

  Oh crap. I’m afraid to open my eyes. I released my right eyelid a crack and peeked at my fiancé. His expression was that of indifference. Off in another dimension almost.

  “Um, Austin?” Had he even heard me?

  “So it didn’t work out for you either?” Okay, so he heard me. And he stated the obvious. Did he hear the word married? I nodded as my palms began to sweat.

  Oh shit, Elizabeth, you said engaged. Not married. I was the biggest chicken shit on the planet.

  “No, it didn’t work out at all,” I heard myself saying.

  Shrugging again, Austin remarked, “Well, it’s all the past. I haven’t seen Vanessa in ages and you don’t see…uh, what’s his name…”

  “Simon,” I offered. Nope, only see him when he’s home sick. Like today. When I was completely naked in front of him and his touch reduced my knees to a gelatinous substance. Nope.

  “So, what’s done is done.” Austin stood up and made an exaggerated play of wiping his brow. “Whew. Well, I’m glad to get that off of my chest. I wanted you to at least know why I hated Kenny.”

  I nodded as I stood, completely mute. I can’t believe you’re not telling him now! Married. Tell him you were married, not just engaged! No matter how much my brain fought with my mouth, it would not open up. It stayed completely still while Austin took my hand and we strolled back to the bar to get me a drink.

  Seventeen

  “So tell me. How was the wedding?” Jim inquired as I plopped into the cushioned booth at our favorite coffee shop.

  “Ugh,” I groaned, rolling my eyes. “Awful.”

  Folding his hands in front of him, Jim asked, “Awful food? Awful band? Awful bridesmaid dresses? Please tell me they weren’t that new greenish color that looks like regurgitated baby diarrhea.” He screwed up his face with a look of disgust.

  I opened my satchel to retrieve my manuscript for Jim to critique. “You know, I don’t even think I noticed any of those things. I was too busy watching my own life implode.”

  Jim stroked his own fingertips like he was petting a cat. “Did you and Austin get into a fight?” He appeared concerned but also eager for a juicy tidbit of gossip at the same time.

  “I guess you could call it that,” I answered, leaning my head forward into my hands with disgrace. I proceeded to catch him up to date on everything that happened prior to the actual reception.

  “Ooo, that’s not good,” Jim groaned after I revealed that I still had not come clean about my marriage.

  “Wait a minute. You said this was, and I quote, a delightful little caper,” I accused as I sat up.

  “Oh it was,” Jim replied. “But now you’re getting down to zero hour and you had the perfect opportunity to confess.”

  “I know!” I cried, flopping head first into my palms once more, this time with even more melodrama.

  “It’s only going to be more complicated the longer you wait,” Jim advised me.

  Flipping my hair back, I looked him in the eye. “Please, you’re preaching to the choir. Every day of my life gets more and more complicated.” I groaned as I recalled, “The best part of the night was when I spent a half an hour trying to call Simon to make sure the bastard was okay and not lying face first in my toilet. Every time Austin saw me with the cell phone, I ended the call before Simon could pick up. Austin was giving me the evil eye, too. He probably thinks I’m having an affair.”

  “Probably,” Jim remarked, sipping his coffee.

  I shoved his arm. “Thanks. You’re helpful.”

  “I try,” Jim replied with a devious smirk.

  “I still couldn’t get through to Simon, so I really was worried he was unconscious or bleeding to death all over the bathroom.”

  “Hmmm, yes. That would have been a bitch to clean up when you got home,” Simon observed evilly.

  “Yeah blood stains are the worst. I always forget whether it’s hot water or cold that gets them out,” I pondered.

  “It’s cold,” Jim informed me, taking a bite of my scone.

  “Good to know,” I remarked, snatching my food from his hand. “That’s mine!”

  Jim pouted teasingly as I took an exaggerated bite of my food, chewing with an open mouth.

  “So anyway, you couldn’t get ahold of boy wonder.” He leaned forward with mock enthusiasm, chin in his hands. “Whatever did you do?”

  “Something stupid, apparently,” I replied, setting the scone aside.

  “Seems to be the theme of the night.”

  “Oh it was,” I agreed. “I called Nora to see if she would go check on him.”

  “Ooo,” Jim wiggled his fingers excitedly. “Nora hates him doesn’t she?”

  I sighed. “Yeah, Nora really does hate him.” I put my paper cup full of Italian roast, no cream, three sugars, to my lips and took a sip without tasting anything.

  Jim followed my lead and took a swig of his coffee before he asked the obvious question, “Why does she hate him?”

  I was waiting for it. I had dodged this question and the subsequent one about why Simon and I had gotten divorced for years. Nora was the only one who knew the real reason. And I was tired of lying. Or omitting the truth, rather

  “Can you keep a secret?” I asked Jim as I held his gaze.

  “Elizabeth, I spent my entire teen years keeping a secret.”

  “Point taken,” I replied as I absentmindedly twirled my hair around my finger and glanced at the ends.

  I really need a haircut. But I don’t want to get it cut too soon before the wedding… Oh my God, I think I need Ritalin. I can’t stay on one damn train of thought.

  “Well?” Jim demanded impatiently, drumming his fingers on the table.

  “Okay, here goes.” I let out a deep sigh. “About two years after our wedding, Simon broke my heart into pieces.”

  “Such a dramatic opening,” Jim gushed sarcastically.

  I ignored him and continued, “On one of our many travel excursions, I forgot to bring my Pill. Simon and I couldn’t fathom the idea of using condoms for a week, so we took our chances.”

  “Oh, I’m guessing the risk wasn’t in your favor,” Jim interjected.

  I nodded. “It wasn’t. But when we found out about…me being pregnant, we were really happy about it, even though it was unexpected and I still wasn’t done with my five year plan and blah, blah. We even went to the ultrasound together…” I had to stop there. I could feel the tears threatening to erupt.

  Stop it. This was well over two years ago. “We saw this little flickering heartbeat. I couldn’t believe that I had real live person inside of me,” I said, still amazed by that concept. I gazed down at my half eaten scone and started to pick the raisins out of it—I couldn’t even look at Jim.

  “It was the happiest moment of my entire life, I think. Then, about ten weeks along…” My voice caught sharply in my throat.

  Jim took my hand. I looked up at him gratefully as a salty tear dropped onto the table. “If you don’t want to talk about it…” Jim started to say.

  I shook my h
ead as I wiped the wetness from my cheek. “I do. I never told anyone I was pregnant, other than Simon and Nora.” Jim nodded and squeezed my hand tighter. “I had to have a D&C because the baby had been…dead for about two weeks. Once they got in there, they saw I had some endometriosis and long story short, I ended up having to stay in the hospital overnight.” I paused, choking back the lump in my throat. As much as losing the baby had devastated me, this was the painful part.

  “I told Simon not to stay. The chairs looked uncomfortable and they wouldn’t let him share my hospital bed. He didn’t want to go…or so he claimed,” I practically spit out my bitter words. “Before he left, he told me he loved me and…” Staring at Jim’s anxious eyes, I felt like an elephant was sitting on my chest.

  Breathe, Elizabeth. Breathe. Just say it, damn it. “He said, I’m kind of glad we’re not having a baby. I don’t think I really want one.” I lowered my eyes and inhaled sharply. Breathing was becoming difficult, but if I took deep breaths, it didn’t hurt my chest as much.

  There was the obligatory moment of silence before Jim let out a low whistle and remarked, “Ouch.”

  “Yeah it hurt me a lot, but I thought he was just using it as a defense mechanism,” I explained.

  “Well, you think he did want the baby?” Jim asked with confusion.

  “I’m pretty sure he did. Or at least I did at the time.”

  Jim scratched his head. “I don’t get it then. You got divorced because of some crappy comment he made to you on a bad day? That doesn’t make sense, Elizabeth.”

  Steadying my shaking hand, I remarked evenly, “No, I divorced him because that night, he went home and had sex with another woman.”

  Jim, who had been gulping the remainder of his coffee, spit it clear across the table, narrowly missing the white Louis Vuitton bag hanging on the chair of the woman sitting behind me.

  “He did what?”

  “Had sex with another woman,” I repeated calmly. “In my bed. While I was in the hospital where I nearly died having his dead child removed from my body.” Okay, that was a gross exaggeration, but every time I was reminded of the circumstances around Simon’s infidelity, I became a little more theatrical than necessary. I often wondered if I would have felt so passionately about the situation if he had cheated on me some random day of the week. Like when I was at work. Or if I had not ever gotten pregnant. Would I feel as betrayed then? Or would I have been able to accept his apology and move on?

 

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