“Blake can do it for you.” She leans down, kissing my forehead.
I shake my head. “That’s my responsibility.” I don’t need to say anything else. Mom can tell I need to do this, so she just nods.
“Why don’t you wash your face, come downstairs, and eat a bit? Then we can make the phone calls and worry about everything else.” I sit up, my head spinning from all the sleep and tears. I climb out of bed and head to the bathroom. When I emerge, my mom takes my hand and guides me down the stairs.
Even though I bought this house the year before Eric and I were married, it had always been our home. Touches of Eric were everywhere. Frames capturing our happy times fill the walls. Pictures of just him, just me, but mostly, pictures of us together. Walking in the living room, I see the flowers he bought me every week just to say he loved me. In the kitchen, I see the coffee mugs he collected from his favorite football team, the Dallas Cowboys. Eric was everywhere I turned. Everywhere I looked.
Blake, my father, and Crystal sit at the table set for our dinner that my mother cooked, but the only thing my eyes focus on is that brown fucking bag on the counter. The last items my husband touched.
Walking to the counter, I grab the bag, feeling the rough, thick paper under my fingers. Everyone in the room stops moving, and it’s so quiet; the only sound is my unrolling of the bag.
Opening the bag, I reach inside, my heart banging away in my chest. My fingers grab his watch first. I take out the black Invicta diving watch and and see that the face is cracked. The time is stuck at 12:11. The sobs rip through me as I close my eyes and hold the counter with one hand, bringing the watch to my nose to smell him. But it only smells of steel instead of the earthy smell I’ve come to associate with him.
I place the watch gently on the counter; reaching back inside, I pull out his wallet. The worn-out brown wallet that he always kept in his glove box because he hated to carry it in his back pocket. When I open it, pieces of glass fall onto the counter. I close it and place it next to the watch. My shaking hands reach back inside and pull out a black iPhone. I turn it in my hands, flipping it over, and confusion mars my face. “This isn’t his.” I turn to look at everyone. “His phone was white.”
Crystal comes over. “Maybe it was put in there by mistake.” She stands next to me as I press the middle button, and it shows me that the battery is dead. “Here, let me plug it in, and we can see who the phone belongs to.” She grabs it from my hand, plugging it into the wall charger. I turn around and again reach into the bag. His white iPhone comes out, and when I press the middle button, a picture of us lights up the screen. Eric’s sitting behind me on the steps of our porch. He had leaned down and kissed my neck, looking up just in time for the picture to snap. My finger rubs his face on the screen as I see his sweet smile and brown eyes. My eyes close, the pain and emptiness in my chest spreading through me. “We took this picture last week after he got home. He was gone for a month this time. It was the longest he’d ever been away.” I look up at them. “How did this happen?” I ask as I look at each of them.
They don’t have time to answer because the phone on the counter starts buzzing, the vibration moving it along the counter as we all look at it. The buzzing stops when I walk over to it and pick it up. The screen black again, so I press the home button. My husband’s smile greets me once again, but it isn’t his face that I stare at. It’s the smile of the blonde who stands next to him as he has his arm around her and two children who stand in front of them. All four of them smiling for the camera.
The phone slips out of my hand, landing on the floor right at my feet. The picture looking up at us as the phone rings again. This time, the picture that comes up is that woman with the name Baby.
I look up to see my mother with her hand to her mouth and my father holding her shoulders. I bend down, picking the phone up as if it weighs more than a hundred pounds, and press the green button to talk.
“Hello.” My voice is shaky and low as I hear a child crying in the background. The woman’s trying to soothe it, but stops as soon as she hears my voice.
“Hello.” I hear a voice almost as soft as mine. “Who is this?” she asks as my hands start to shake, and I feel myself get lightheaded. My hand clutches my chest as I answer her the only way I know how. “This is Hailey.”
“Who is Hailey?” I hear her ask, but I feel like I’m having an out-of-body experience. Like I’m watching this horrific scene play out from the outside. “Who are you?” I ask. Knowing the answer to those three words was about to change my world even more than it had in the past twenty-four hours.
“I’m his wife.”
Three different words that take whatever may have been left of me. The phone again slips out of my hands, and my legs finally give out. My brother rushes to catch me as the phone hits the floor, the screen shattering. Crystal bends to pick it up and walks out of the room.
My head is spinning. My heart beating so fast it’s likely I’m having a heart attack. I rub my hands up and down my chest as if somehow that will alleviate that permanent crack that has formed. It feels as if someone stuck a knife right between my ribs, and they may as well have. There is no way to get over a pain like this. It’s less than a minute old, and even in my fucked up state, I know it’s a forever kind of pain. I stare blankly into my brother’s eyes as he yells my name over and over again. The blackness is back, coming to take me away. I try to keep my eyes open, but my lids are so heavy, so I stop fighting. Besides, when the darkness comes, nothing hurts.
In what seems to be a pattern, my brother carries me through the house and lays me on the couch. I listen to the chatter around me.
“What do you mean he’s married? How could he be married when he and Hailey got married six months ago?” I hear my mother ask the question I’m sure I would ask if I could. If I could form a rational thought.
I try to force my eyes to open, but they feel so heavy. My arms do too. I just allow myself to surrender to the darkness. I don’t know how long I stay locked away, but I feel someone sit down next to me. “I don’t know the whole story,” Crystal says softly. She picks up one of my hands and checks my pulse. “She told me they have been married for twelve years.” The gasp from my mother startles me, and I’m finally able to flicker my eyes open.
“How long was I out for?” I ask as I sit up. Looking over at the clock on the wall, I see I have been passed out for over three hours.
They both stop talking and look at me. “Don’t stop talking. I want to know. I need to know.” My eyes implore Crystal to continue. My mother just nods and turns her head to yell for my brother. “I spoke to her a little bit till Blake took the phone from me. Blake!” she calls out. My older brother, my protector, walks into the room, carrying the black iPhone.
“Hey, sis,” he says as he spots me sitting up, sliding the phone in his back pocket. “Tell me,” I say, my voice louder than expected.
Blake looks at me and then looks away. “It’s not a good time. You need to rest.” He looks around for the others to support him. Lucky for me, my father shakes his head. “She needs to know, Blake.”
“We all need to know,” my mother says, walking to my father and wrapping her arms around his waist.
Blake sighs, wearing the resentment he has to be the one to tell us this all over his face. “Her name is Samantha. They live two towns over. They have been married for twelve years. She lives right next door to her in-laws. Eric’s parents.”
I start rapidly shaking my head. “Eric was in foster care. She’s lying.”
“No,” Blake snaps, and my eyes fly to his. My brother never raises his voice to me. “His parents are alive and have been married for forty years. He has two brothers. He is the middle child.” Blake pauses. “Are you sure you want to hear all this?”
My legs start to bounce up and down with nervous energy, “Just tell me, goddammit,” I yell at him as Crystal comes over to sit next to me, grabbing my hand.
“Tell her Blake. She deserves
to know.” She looks at me while addressing him.
Blake takes an audible breath. “They have two children. Daisy is eight years old. Liz is five years old. Last month, they found out she’s pregnant again, but she miscarried shortly after. According to Samantha, they have been trying for the past year, but he got busy traveling, so it has been hard.” He looks down as tears fill his eyes. I can tell whatever he’s about to say just might be the final nail in my proverbial coffin. “His family is on their way to get his body,” he finishes, his voice trailing off.
I shoot to my feet, this time yelling. “Get his body? What does that mean?”
“It means they are going to the hospital to get his body and take him home.” He runs his hands through his hair.
I just stare blankly at my brother. “His body is home.” I glance over at my father, who is a lawyer. “I mean, he lives here. We have paperwork.” I make my way to the drawer where we keep the papers for our life insurance and also our marriage certificate.
“Honey ...” my dad starts.
“NO!” I yell.
I start pacing the room. “No.” I shake my head. “He is my husband.” I angrily brush the tears from my face. “We got married. We have a marriage certificate.” I open the drawer, tossing the papers out as I look for the paper.
“Mcintyre isn’t his last name. It’s his middle name,” my father informs me, stopping me as soon as my hand grabs the paper I’m looking for. My eyes read both our names. “It’s null and void because well, honey, he is already legally married.”
“No,” I tell them almost shouting, “he told me he didn’t want to use the name on his license because that was his adopted name and he wanted me to have his real name.” I look at them and they all look down not making eye contact. “I want another lawyer,” I inform him, narrowing my eyes at him. My father is the best family lawyer in town. Crystal gets up and walks toward me. I know she’s coming to tell me more crap I don’t want to hear, so I put my hands over my ears like any mature adult would do. “No! Don’t you fucking say it. My husband just died. I have to plan a funeral, and you’re telling me that I can’t do that because he isn’t my husband.” I shake my head. “I don’t believe you.”
“Baby,” my father says, that word sending shivers down my back after seeing it on Eric’s “other” phone. “There is nothing you can do. If anything, they will say you were his mistress.” His words are a slap in my face, freezing me in place. “Or the other woman. You have no claim to him.”
“How can you say that to me?” My hands come down slowly from my ears. “I have all the claim in the world to him. He died here. Here in my fucking car. In my fucking town. He is mine.” The sadness is gone, replaced by the anger pouring out of me.
“Hay—” Blake starts.
“NO!” I yell as I grab a picture of us from the side table. We took it the day after Christmas when he finally made it back home. I hold the frame to my chest, squeezing it so hard, my fingers turn white. “I won’t let them.”
“Honey,” my father says, “you have gone through so much in such a short time. How about you just rest, and we will figure it out in the morning? We will take a step back and see what needs to be done.” At that moment, someone knocks on the door. Blake stands to walk to the door, and when he opens it, we all gasp.
“Eric?” I stammer out as I take in the man at my door. This stranger looks exactly like my husband.
“No. My name is Elliot,” the man says as I walk to the door. He takes me in as I get closer and closer to him.
My eyes never leave his as I reach out to touch his face. “Eric,” I whisper, not believing what I’m seeing.
He looks down as my hand falls from his face. “I’m Eric’s older brother, Elliot. This is his younger brother, Ethan.” He motions to the man standing beside him who I didn’t even notice. “Um, sorry to barge in on you all, but ...” He looks down at his feet, putting his hands in his pockets before he looks back up. He takes a deep breath before finishing. “We are here for his things.”
“His things?” I ask confused, looking from one face to the next.
“What things?” Blake comes to stand beside me. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?” he growls.
“Listen.” Ethan puts his hands out as if he means no harm. “This is a difficult time for us all right now, but we need his wallet and hospital paperwork.” He looks down at the floor again, unable to meet my eyes. “I don’t know what my brother was doing or what he was thinking, but right now, our main concern is the two little girls he left behind. The two little girls who are without their father. And left with more questions than answers. That is our only concern right now.”
“He said he was an orphan.” I start telling them as my fingers hold the picture closer to my chest. “That he had no siblings. No parents. Nothing.” I look at Elliot. So much like Eric, yet so different. “We got married six months ago.” I look down as I feel the strength come over me. “Our entire life together is a lie. Was a lie. Everything I thought was real was, well, not.” I shake my head and walk away from them to the kitchen. Grabbing the brown bag that held all his secrets and lies, I shove the watch and the wallet back inside with more force than necessary. Next, I drop in the phone he apparently used only for me. To continue his life of secrets and lies. But I don’t care. I’m pissed. It’s a lot easier to feel angry than to allow all the other emotions I’m feeling to bubble over the surface. I stomp back to the living room and start gathering everything that belongs to Eric. I grab his baseball hat, sweater, blanket, and the book he’s been reading and toss it at the other brother, Ethan.
“That’s all you’re getting from me. This is all I will give you. You want something else? You’re shit out of luck because I have nothing left to give you. Or you could sue me for it. That should be fun for everyone. Sue the other woman for everything she has left of her dead fake husband.” I toss my head back, laughing.
“Jesus. Can you imagine.” I catch their eyes before looking at Crystal. “Lies,” I spit out. I can’t stop laughing. Or crying. I’m not even sure. “We were going to try for a baby.” I put the palms of my hands on my knees. “He wanted to see me carrying his baby.” I look back at his brothers, and I can’t tell if they feel sorry for me or just think their brother conned a crazy woman. “Maybe he got me confused with the other wife. I mean, I’m not sure how these things go. I’ve never lived two lives before. But I could see how someone would get confused.”
I look down at my wedding band and pull it off my finger. The same finger Eric slid the ring on only six months before. Reaching my hand out to Elliott, I whisper, “This was his also. Take it. I obviously don’t need it anymore.”
Elliott looks at Blake for help. My brother walks over to me, gently taking the gold band out of my hand and handing it to Eric’s brother. “I think it’s time for you to leave.” They nod at us and mutter out a stilted, “Sorry.” They walk out the front door, taking the pieces of Eric with them.
“I don’t feel well.” I look around at my family. “I think ...” I say right before I rush to the sink and dry heave.
“I think she needs to take something. To calm her down. To help her sleep,” I hear my mother tell them.
“What she needs is to fucking forget that the lying piece of shit ever fucking existed,” Blake grumbles.
“Why?” I say softly and then shake my head. “WHY? TELL ME!” I yell out to Blake. “Why did you tell them where I lived? WHY WOULD YOU BRING THEM HERE TO MY DOOR?” I rush at him, shoving him back, or at least trying to. My brother is a solid brick wall and holds his ground. “Why! Why! Why?” I shout over and over and over again while I pound my fists on my brother’s chest. I direct all the pain in my body into his chest, and the exertion leaves me crumpling down to the ground. Vaguely, I feel Blake’s arms go around me again, cradling me against his body as he carries me upstairs to my bedroom. But I don’t say anything. My body spent, my mind tired, and my soul empty.
Chapter Thre
e
Hailey
I wake the next morning, my body aching, my eyes burning. I lie in my bed, my eyes blinking to take in the room
I stretch my legs in front of me, the smell of coffee making its way up to my room. “Who is down there?” I ask, knowing that Crystal is behind me.
“Your parents stayed the night and so did Blake,” she whispers from beside me. I turn on my back now, looking up at the ceiling.
“My chest feels like someone is sitting on it.” Rubbing the middle of my chest, I’m trying to get the ache to go away. I throw my legs off the bed and make my way down the stairs. The shades are closed all around the house, and the weariness fills the rooms all around us. My mother and father sit at the kitchen table with coffee in front of them.
My father’s eyes tired and bleak; my mother’s are still filled with tears especially when she sees me walk into the room. The front door opens when Blake comes in, a box of doughnuts in one hand and a bag holding McDonald’s in the other. “I didn’t know what you would feel like, so I got one of everything.” He puts the bag in the middle of the table, but no one reaches for it.
When Crystal comes downstairs, she walks into the kitchen, going straight for the bag in the middle of the table. “You didn’t get any hash browns?” she asks with a shrug, taking an egg biscuit out of the bag.
“What am I going to do?” I look around the room at everyone. “I don’t even know when or where the funeral is?” I wipe the tears away. “I don’t even know anything about him really.”
Perfect Love Story Page 2