by Elena Aitken
She was about to hang up, but hesitated as her mom added one more thing.
“Maren, just remember that I’m your mother.”
“How could I forget?”
“And as your mother,” she continued as if she hadn’t heard Maren’s sarcastic retort, “I love you and I’ll always be here for you. No matter what you need. I’m here for you.”
The words stunned her momentarily into silence. Not one time in her life had her mother ever told her that she was there for her. Or if she had, it had been buried under all of the judgment she’d piled on over the years.
“Okay.” Maren finally found her voice as Davis’s face appeared through the glass of the kitchen door, and the kettle whistled from the stove. “I have to go.” She hung up the phone without taking her eyes off her husband.
She turned the burner off on the stove before opening the door. It struck her that it was less than a week ago that Davis would never have dreamed of standing outside of his own house waiting for her to open the door. It was strange. But everything about their situation was strange.
“Come in,” she said.
Davis stepped inside and shook the rain off his coat as he took it off. “It’s really coming down out there.”
She ignored his small talk. “I’m making a cup of tea. Would you like one?”
“Yes, please. Thank you.”
Maren cringed. He was so painfully polite. How had so much changed in such a short time?
She squeezed her eyes shut for a second before pulling out two tea bags and pouring the water into the mugs. “Let’s go sit in the living room.” She turned and walked into the other room before he could object. It was suddenly very important to her to control the narrative. There was so much about what was happening that was completely out of her control, if she could just control this one small thing—where they sat down—she might feel better.
Davis waited for her to sit in the wingback chair and place both mugs on the coffee table before he sat across from her on the edge of the sofa. She noticed he didn’t touch the throw pillow.
“You look tired.”
He nodded. “Maren, there is so much I need to say.”
“I know.”
“I can’t even begin to tell you how—”
“Please don’t tell me you’re sorry.” She held up a hand. “I don’t think I could stand hearing that one more time.”
“But I really am—”
“No.” She stopped him. “You might say it. You might even believe it. But if you were truly sorry, you never would have done this to me. To us. Because that’s the thing, Davis. You haven’t just done this to me. You’ve done this to all of us. To Rylee, and this baby, too. Everything is…” She couldn’t finish.
Maren bit her bottom lip and looked at her feet in an effort to keep her emotions in check.
“Maren?”
“Can you tell me why, Davis?” She looked up into his eyes. She so desperately wanted to be able to look at him again and not feel disgust or pain or the overwhelming sadness that came over her every time she was in his presence now. “Just tell me why.”
“I don’t think there’s anything I can say that will—”
“Yes. There is.”
He hung his head, defeated, but Maren couldn’t let him off so easily. She had so many questions. So many things she needed to know.
“I don’t even know where to begin.”
“Start with how long it’s been going on.” He looked up and shook his head slightly. “Was it just this last year, those few times, or was it…” She trailed off because she could see from his face that it wasn’t just the last year. She pressed her hand to her mouth. “Oh God. It’s been going on for—”
“Since college.”
“College?” Maren couldn’t decide whether she was going to be sick, or whether she was going to throw the mug of hot tea at him. “But, how…you married me. Why would you…”
“I never loved Sabrina,” he said quickly. “Not like that. Not like I love you. It was never like that.”
“How was it then?”
He shook his head. “I don’t think I can even explain it.”
“Try.”
He took a deep breath. “We’d been friends for so long, that it almost seemed natural and normal,” he said. “But it wasn’t romantic and it wasn’t like…it was never like it was with you.”
“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“It’s true.” He sat forward on the couch and hung his arms between his legs. “I know it sounds crazy and I don’t blame you for being mad. Hell, I’m mad. I can’t believe I ever talked myself into believing that it was okay and…God, Maren. None of this was ever supposed to happen.”
“You mean fucking my best friend throughout our entire marriage? Or getting caught?” She should have been shocked at the vulgar language coming out of her mouth. She almost never swore. Not like that. Of course, she’d never been faced with a cheating husband before. Desperate times…
“All of it. It was so wrong and I’m so ashamed, Maren. You have to believe me when I tell you how much I love you.”
She wanted to answer back with a sharp retort about how he couldn’t possibly love her after what he’d done, but she couldn’t. Because the truth was, she knew how much he loved her. She’d felt it every single day of their marriage and despite how wrong his behavior had been, that much she knew to be true. “I know,” she said softly. “I know that you love me.”
“So we can—”
She cut him off before the hope in his voice permeated her. “Just because I know that doesn’t mean I can be okay with this.” She shook her head as the tears she’d worked so hard to keep at bay streamed down her face. “She’s having your baby, Davis. Your son. How can any of that ever be okay?” Her hands moved automatically to her stomach. “I’m having your baby.” The reality of exactly what it was that she was facing now, a new baby at forty—alone—without a husband by her side, slammed into her. She drew in a sharp breath and forced herself not to lose control completely. “Oh God. I can’t do this. I can’t do this alone.”
“Maren?” He got up from his seat and knelt on the floor next to her. “You don’t have to do this alone. We can make this work.” His hands fluttered, like he wasn’t sure he should touch her or not. “We can fix this.”
She shook her head and stared at him. “How?” The urge to laugh bubbled up inside her, but she swallowed it down. “How do you propose we make this work, Davis? You want me to pretend that I never found out? Or maybe you want to be one big happy family? How exactly do you expect this to work? You’ll have to excuse me because you’ve had some time to get used to all of this, but I’m still trying to process.” She threw his own word back in his face.
“I’m such a fool,” she said after a moment. “How could I not see this?” Hot humiliation spread through her body as she let herself think about the implications of the last few months. “And I was her labor coach, Davis.” The idea repulsed her. “How could you let me go with her to those classes? To offer to be there when her baby was born? When your baby was born?”
As the thoughts settled into her brain, the mortification of it all made her want to vomit. “Do you even understand how twisted that is?” She glared at him, but had to look away. The sight of him made her sick. “How could you let me do it? To offer to throw a baby shower for this child?” She groaned. “My husband’s bastard baby. Oh my God.” She dropped her head into her hands.
“What could I say, Maren? How could I tell you not to? How could—”
“You could have told me!” She lifted her head in a rage. “You didn’t have to make me the fool, Davis. Don’t you think it’s bad enough my husband had an affair with my best friend for years and I was stupid enough to believe nothing could ever happen between the two of you? I trusted you both so much and you betrayed me. But worse, you made me a fool, too. And somehow that feels even worse.”
She fell into silence for
a moment until another question took root in her mind. “When she got pregnant…was it…did you plan it?” Maren realized it was a question that had been in the back of her mind since all of this started. Something she needed to know, but didn’t want to know. “Was it a mistake?” she demanded. “Or did you…” Her hands clapped over her mouth as if she could take the question back. But even if she could, she still needed to know the truth. Sabrina had always said she didn’t want children of her own. Had she changed her mind? Or had the baby been a mistake?
It suddenly seemed imperative that she knew the truth.
“Maren, don’t do this…” Davis shook his head. “It doesn’t matter how it happened. It—”
“It does.”
Davis dropped his head for a brief moment and rubbed his face. “It was an accident, Maren. God, do you really think that I’d want a baby at forty years—”
Maren sat straight back in the chair, her hands on her stomach.
“No! Maren! I didn’t mean that. Not like—this is all so fucked up.”
She nodded. “I’ll say.”
They sat quietly for a minute. And then another. Finally, Davis spoke. “Let me fix this, Maren. Don’t shut me out. You said yourself you can’t do this alone. Well, you don’t have to. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.”
“I can’t do this alone.” Her voice was mechanical, distant as she contemplated what being a single mom to a newborn and a teenager at the same time would be like. She shook her head slowly. “I just can’t.” Maren turned to look at Davis, who was still kneeling next to her. He looked small, and sad. A weak, pathetic version of the man she loved. “The problem is,” she said slowly. “I can’t do it with you either.”
“Yes,” he said quickly. “You can. I’ll—”
“No.” She interrupted him. “You don’t understand. I can’t even stand the sight of you, Davis. It makes me sick to know that you’re not the man I thought you were.” She shook her head and stood in an effort to put distance between them. “I can’t do this. I just can’t.”
“What does that mean?” Davis stood, but didn’t make a move to cross the room. “Maren, what are you saying?”
She turned and planted her feet so she stared directly at him. “I can’t do this with you, Davis. I just can’t.”
Her words hung in the air between them.
“You don’t mean that.”
Her cell phone rang before she could answer. Instinctively, she pulled it from her pocket. “It’s Rylee.”
“You said she was sleeping at Sienna’s.”
“Because she is,” Maren snapped before she turned her attention to the phone. “Rylee,” she said as she answered the call. “Is everything—”
“It’s me, Mrs. Bennett. Sienna.”
“Sienna? Is everything okay?” Next to her, Maren could see Davis come closer. She turned away from him. “Why are you calling me on Rylee’s phone?” A flicker of fear sparked in her gut.
“I’m really sorry to bother you,” Sienna started. In the background, Maren could hear loud music. “But I think Rylee’s had too much to drink and I think she should go home.”
“What?” Maren shook her head to clear it. “Drink? Rylee was drinking?” She could feel Davis next to her and more than anything, she wanted to shove him away. But he wasn’t her focus at the moment. “I’ll come get her,” she said into the phone. “I’ll be right—”
“We’re not at my house.” Sienna interrupted her. “There was a party at Mason Brewer’s house. Do you know where—”
“I know where that is.” Thankfully, Maren had driven enough carpool for school field trips that she knew where a lot of the kids lived. “I’ll be right there.”
She disconnected the call and spun around, almost crashing right into Davis.
“I’m going with you.”
“No.” She shook her head. “You’re not.” Maren tried to slide past him, but he caught her arm.
“Maren.” He looked straight into her eyes. “She’s my daughter too. I want to be there.”
She shook free and moved into the kitchen, where she grabbed her purse and coat from the hook at the back door. Davis was right behind her. There wasn’t time to argue. She needed to get to her daughter. “Fine,” was all she said before heading to the car.
Maren
“Why aren’t they at Sienna’s?”
“Where did they get the alcohol?”
“How did you not know she was at a party?”
Davis kept up a steady stream of questions that took on a more and more accusatory tone as the drive went on. Finally, Maren snapped. “You’re not helping. I just want to get to Rylee and make sure she’s okay.” She focused on the road and increased the speed of the wipers. The rain was coming down so hard, it all but blacked out the streetlights, making the drive through the tree-lined streets even darker.
Her car slipped a little, reminding Maren that she should have her tires checked and possibly replaced soon. Car maintenance was something Davis usually handled, but if she was serious about going it alone, it would be one more thing on her to-do list.
She didn’t let herself dwell on the reality of what that meant, focusing instead on getting to her daughter.
When she pulled up in front of the house, she noticed the girls right away, sitting on the porch, out of the rain. Maren threw the car into park and left it running as she ran up to the house, uncaring that the rain soaked her sweater through. Davis beat her by seconds.
“What’s going on?” he demanded.
Maren shook her head at his boorish approach and looked to Sienna. “What happened? How did this…”
“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Bennett. I know Rylee told you she was sleeping at my house, but that wasn’t true. By the time I got here, she was already pretty drunk. I tried to get her to…well, I kind of kept an eye on her and then Brice told me she’d passed out and we thought I should call you.”
“Thank you, Sienna. Really.” Mother’s instinct told her there was more to the story, including where Brice was now, but Maren didn’t press the girl. It was enough that she had Rylee now. “We’ll get her home. Do you need a ride?”
“I’m good,” Sienna said. “I haven’t been drinking.”
Maren thanked her again and turned to catch up with Davis, who’d already scooped Rylee up and was carrying her back to the car.
“Put her in the front.” Maren opened the door and Davis slipped their daughter into the front seat. She reached across Rylee, to buckle her in, and stopped for a moment to look at her daughter’s face. Even with the heavy eyeliner and mascara, she was still her little girl. “Oh, Rylee,” she whispered. “What’s going on with you?”
Rylee’s eyelids fluttered open. “Mom?”
“I’ve got you, sweetheart. It’s okay. We’re going home.”
Maren moved quickly into the driver’s seat. Davis was already in the back, sitting in the middle of the two seats so he could see up front. She pulled out into the dark, rainy night, intent on getting her baby girl home as quickly as possible.
“Mom?”
“I’m here, Rylee.” She reached over to put her hand on Rylee’s leg. “You’ll feel better soon,” she lied. It was likely that if she’d drank too much, Rylee was definitely going to be feeling worse before she felt better. But that wasn’t important to tell her.
“Mom? Where’s Brice?”
“Brice?” Davis piped up from the backseat.
Maren ignored him.
“I don’t know, sweetie.” Maren forced herself to keep her voice as calm and soothing as she could. “Sienna called me.”
“He was with me. I remember going into the bedroom and then…why are you here?”
“Bedroom?” Davis roared from the backseat. “I’ll kill him!”
Her father’s voice seemed to wake Rylee up. “Dad?” She shot up in her seat and tried to spin around to look at him. “Why are you here?”
“I’m your father.”
Rylee sat ba
ck hard against the seat and crossed her arms. She muttered something under her breath that Maren didn’t quite catch, but she got the gist of it, and couldn’t help but smile to herself.
“Excuse me?” Davis pulled himself up so he was almost even with them.
“Sit back, Davis.”
Maren flipped her wipers on full, but it still wasn’t enough to clear her windshield. The car hydroplaned on a puddle, but she worked to straighten it.
“What did you just say?” Davis demanded of his daughter.
“She’s drunk, Davis. Leave it alone.” With one hand, Maren tried to push him back.
“No.” He shook her off. “I heard you, Rylee, and I won’t have you speaking to me like that.”
Maren sighed, and tried to focus on the road. There was no point in arguing with either of them. Davis didn’t get angry often, but when he did, he was almost impossible to deal with. Just like his daughter. Surely she wouldn’t be any easier to deal with angry and drunk.
Sure enough, Rylee didn’t react to her father’s anger well. Once more, she tried to spin around, but the seat belt stopped her. “You have no right to tell me how to talk.” Her words slurred, but there was no mistaking her anger. “Why are you even here?” She struggled with the seat belt and finally disengaged it so she could turn around completely. In a flash, she was almost sitting on her knees as she yelled at her father. “You’re disgusting! You cheated on Mom and you’re having a baby with Auntie Sabrina! You don’t get to—”
“Sit down!” With one hand on the steering wheel, Maren reached over and tried to push Rylee back into the seat.
“That’s enough out of you!”
Davis rose up in his seat right as Rylee lunged for him. Maren’s arm was caught between them and her whole body was yanked to the side. The car veered sharply and once again began to hydroplane on the wet road. Maren pulled her arm back and tried in vain to control the car, but it began to spin and then, all at once, time sped up and slowed down.