by L. N. Cronk
~ ~ ~
THE FIRST FULL week of spring had been a great one. On Tuesday, I’d finally gotten my cast off (I had broken my leg just before Christmas). Thursday, I’d gone to the YMCA during the day and done laps for the first time in over three months. Friday (yesterday), had been my twenty-ninth birthday and my wife, Laci, had made me a chocolate chip, peanut butter cake. And now? Now it was Saturday and I was at Cross Lake with Tanner, fishing for the first time since October.
For the past twenty minutes, we had been circling an island in his bass boat (his pontoon boat was still in dry dock). We were trolling along slowly, casting our lines toward the shore, when we neared a dock. As we drew closer, I noticed a real estate sign tacked to the front of it.
“Pull over there for a minute,” I told Tanner. He guided the boat toward the dock and then let it coast. I looked up at the rough-hewn log cabin – it didn’t appear that anyone was home.
“You should buy this for me,” I suggested, pointing at the sign. “As a birthday present.”
“You’re the one with the big bucks, Mr. Engineer,” he said. “I’m just a lowly P.E. teacher.”
“I wonder how much it is?” I grabbed the dock.
“You in the market?” he laughed.
“Actually, I’ve been thinking about buying a place.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No, I’m not.”
He looked at me for a moment and then said, “Well, call ’em up. The phone number’s right there.”
“Now?”
“Why not?”
I couldn’t think of a reason why not, so I pulled out my phone and dialed the number. After I’d described the property, the lady who had answered the phone gave me a price.
“How much land is with it?” I asked.
“Two acres,” she said. “And it has an excellent rental history. Are you looking for a vacation home or investment property or . . .”
“Just a weekend place,” I told her.
“Well, if you’d like to see it, I’d be happy to show it to you. It’s not occupied right now, so I can set up a showing just about any time you’d like.”
“Okay,” I said. “Thank you. I’ll let you know.”
“Well?” Tanner asked as I closed my phone.
“I don’t know if it’s a good deal or not,” I said. “I haven’t priced anything else.”
“Wanna get out and look around?” he asked. “It doesn’t look like there’s anyone there.”
“There’s not,” I agreed. “She said it’s not occupied. Apparently it’s a rental.”
“That means it’s been trashed.”
“Really?”
“Do you take care of things when you rent them?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“It’s gonna be trashed,” he said, tying off the boat.
We hopped onto the dock and walked up a stone path that led to the porch. The windows in the front were too high for us to see anything, so we walked around toward the back.
The back door had a window that looked into the kitchen and I pressed my face against it.
“Doesn’t look trashed to me,” I said. “Looks like stainless steel appliances and custom tile flooring.”
“Let me see.” He peered in.
We walked off the deck and around toward the other side. That’s when we saw a little wooden door next to the stone fireplace.
“What’s that?”
“I bet it’s a woodbox,” Tanner said. “You stack your wood out here and then just open this door and throw it inside right next to the fireplace.”
He turned the piece of wood that was holding the door shut and pushed it open. We poked our heads into the opening and could see right into the living room.
“I can’t believe it’s not locked!” I exclaimed.
“I don’t think people lock wood boxes.”
“Well, they should,” I argued. “Anybody could get in there.”
“If somebody wants to get in there, they’re just gonna break a window,” Tanner said. “Locks are made for neighbors.”
“If I bought it,” I said, “I’d put a lock on it.”
“Of course you would.”
“The living room doesn’t look trashed either,” I said, looking inside again.
“Well, get in there and check it out!” Tanner said, giving me a push.
“No! We’re not breaking in!”
“It’s not ‘breaking in’ if you don’t break anything.”
I looked at him doubtfully.
“You’re thinking about buying it, right?”
“Maybe,” I admitted.
“And she said you could see it any time you wanted, right?”
“Yeah, when she’s here with me!”
“Oh, just get in there!” Tanner said. “This way if you’re not interested you won’t waste her time.”
“And if I am interested then I’m gonna have to pretend I’ve never been in there before.”
“I’m going in,” Tanner said and he disappeared into the house. The next thing I heard was a long, low whistle.
“Wow!” he called.
I scrambled in after him and echoed his whistle. “Wow!” I repeated.
We looked around at the granite counter tops, maple cabinets and terracotta tile in the kitchen. In the living room there were hardwood floors, leather furniture and a stacked stone fireplace.
“Oh,” Tanner said, looking out the front window. “You’re gonna love this!”
“What?” I asked as I peeked into the dining room.
“Hot tub on the front deck,” he said. “Overlooking the lake.”
“No way,” I said, heading toward him.
“Yes, way.”
“Wow,” I said again.
Tanner unlocked the door to the deck and walked out onto it.
“That real-estate chick’s gonna get all this commission and I’m the one who showed it to you,” he complained.
“I can get that friend of yours to be my agent,” I suggested.
“Sierra?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re really thinking about buying this place?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll call her,” he promised.
After we’d looked around at all the rooms we crawled back out through the woodbox and closed it behind us. We walked all around the house and yard and then finally walked back down the stone walkway to the dock.
“It’d be pretty cool if you did buy it,” Tanner said as he untied the boat. “I could leave my pontoon boat here and then I wouldn’t have to pay a slip fee at the marina.”
“I’d charge you more than the marina would.”
“Not if I let you use it for free . . .”
“True,” I agreed as I pushed us away from the dock.
“You think Laci’s gonna go along with this?” he asked, starting the engine.
“Probably not at first,” I admitted. “But I think I can convince her that it would be a good investment.”
“Would it be?”
“I don’t think the price of lakefront property goes down.”
“I doubt it,” he agreed.
“Maybe I could rent it before I make an offer,” I mused. “Make sure it’s what we want.”
“That’s a good idea.”
“We could leave the kids with her parents next weekend and come up here for a couple of days.”
“Why don’t you wait until your anniversary?”
“That’s a good idea,” I said, “but I’m afraid somebody might snatch it up if I wait too long.”
“Oh,” Tanner said.
“I could tell her it’s an early anniversa
ry present though,” I decided. “A nice, romantic weekend all to ourselves.”
“Uh-huh.” He gave me a little nod.
“I’ll take her to Dante’s,” I said. “It’s this really nice restaurant about fifteen minutes from the marina.”
“I know.”
“You’ve been there?”
He nodded.
“Oh. Well, anyway,” I went on. “She loves to go there. It’s her favorite place.”
“I know.”
“How would you know?”
“Because,” he answered. “I used to take her there all the time when we were dating.”
“In high school?” (They had gone to the prom together during our junior year . . . as friends.)
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “In college.”
I looked at him and didn’t say anything. He tilted his head at me hesitantly.
“You . . . you did know that we dated in college?” he asked slowly. “Didn’t you?”
“Oh, sure,” I nodded, waving my hand at him dismissively. “Of course I did.”
He looked at me uncertainly.
“I did,” I insisted, glancing away from him. “Laci doesn’t keep secrets like that from me.”
How could Laci keep a secret like that from me?
Somehow I managed to get through the rest of the trip – saying all the right things and nodding and joking and smiling. But I could barely bring myself to look Tanner in the eye again – it was all I could do to breathe.
I might not have known all the details about Tanner and Laci dating, but I knew enough to know that I had been lied to.
And I knew enough to be mad.
~ ~ ~
LACI AND I had started dating the summer before our junior year in high school, but after my best friend, Greg, and his father had died in the middle of our senior year, I had pushed her (and everybody else including Tanner) away. Laci and I had seen each other for about a year after that, but only as friends . . . only as two people sharing the greatest loss of their lives. And then – for the next three years – Laci and I hadn’t seen each other at all. Hadn’t even talked on the phone. Technically, I guess, Laci hadn’t exactly been my girlfriend anymore.
But during those three years that we were apart I had dated no one – no one. And I’d never had any reason to think that Laci had dated anyone either. I’d always believed . . . no, not just believed – known – that Laci had trusted God to bring me back to her and that for those three long years she had waited patiently for me.
I’d always known this and believed this because Laci had always allowed me to know it and to believe it.
Why do you love me? I had asked her when we’d gotten back together.
Because God told me to.
When?
In preschool . . .
She had been obediently waiting for me ever since God had let her know – in preschool – that I was the one for her.
That’s what she had told me.
~ ~ ~
WHEN WE FINALLY arrived back at Tanner’s house, I said a hasty goodbye and jumped into my car. My mind was swirling as I drove home. I could barely see straight. I pulled into the garage, went straight into the kitchen, and immediately saw Laci. She was standing at the window, watching the kids play in the backyard and she turned her head toward me as I entered. I stopped short and she looked at me for a very long moment.
“I’m sorry,” she finally said in a quiet voice and I saw her eyes fill up with tears.
He had called her.
As soon as I had pulled out of his driveway, Tanner had called her and warned her that I knew.
Unbelievable.
“Well, this just keeps getting better and better, doesn’t it?” I asked coldly, and I wheeled around and stormed back out the door, slamming it as hard as I could.
I got back into my car and pulled into the street, not sure where I was heading or what I was going to do when I got there. Before long, I found myself at the park and I pulled in, got out of my car, and started off on one of the walking trails.
I’d been on my feet a lot already during the day, and my leg was beginning to ache, but with the thoughts that were swimming through my mind, I barely noticed at all.
I didn’t like the idea that Laci had dated anyone in college, but the thought of her with Tanner was almost more than I could bear. And not only had they dated in college, but Laci had lied to me about it. And now they were apparently conspiring with each other behind my back.
Could it get any worse?
Of course it could get worse. Laci could be on the phone with Tanner right now. I could see her – sobbing into the receiver – telling him what a jerk I was being and how sorry she was that she’d ever married me in the first place. I imagined her wondering if it was too late for her and Tanner to try again. The kids already thought of him as “Uncle Tanner” and they were young – how much of a stretch would it be for them to start calling him “Daddy”? He was probably on his way over to the house right now . . .
Suddenly I felt an overwhelming need to get back home. Despite the pain in my leg, I had traveled almost half of a mile. The loop I was on though was over three miles long and it was going to take me forever to get back to my car if I kept going. I turned around and headed back the way I’d come.
When I got back into my neighborhood and neared our driveway, I noticed that there were about five cars parked in front of the house. That’s when I remembered my birthday party. I looked at Tanner’s truck, parked alongside the curb, and shook my head, wondering how I was ever going to get through this. I sighed and headed reluctantly into the house.
As I walked into the living room, I was spotted immediately by Dorito and Amber.
Dorito (whose real name was Doroteo) was our only boy. He was eight years old and we had adopted him from an orphanage in Mexico where Laci had worked for several years. We’d known him ever since he was eighteen months old and had legally been his parents for over four years.
Amber was the same age as Dorito and was our foster child. Her mother had – until just recently – been in prison for driving under the influence. Amber’s first foster home had been a nightmare, scarring her in more ways than one, and she’d coped with what had happened to her by losing the ability to speak. She used sign language to communicate, or – if she trusted someone enough – she would whisper into their ear. Amber had come to live with us three months earlier – right after I’d broken my leg. She was in counseling twice a week to help her deal with everything that had happened and she was making great strides, but I still couldn’t wait for the first time that I would actually get to hear her voice.
The two of them ran across the living room to greet me, Dorito shouting “Happy Birthday!” over and over. They both threw their arms around me in exuberant hugs, but quickly recoiled.
“Ewwww!” Dorito cried. “You stink!”
Amber backed away, silently making a face.
“Sorry,” I shrugged apologetically. I glanced around to my right and saw Tanner on the other side of the room. I had a feeling he was purposefully not looking my way, pretending instead to be engrossed in a conversation with Natalie, one of Laci’s best friends.
“Was this a surprise party?” I heard my dad ask. I looked to my left and saw him standing next to Laci.
“No,” she assured him.
“No,” I agreed. “I just didn’t realize how late it was.”
“What’s that smell?” Dorito asked.
“Fish.”
“You went fishing without me?” he wailed.
“Sorry,” I shrugged again.
I looked at Laci until she made eye contact.
“I’m going to go take a shower,” I said. She gave me a tight nod and, avoiding looking in Tanner’s direction, I headed up the stairs.
I took a quick shower, dried off and pulled on some pants and a t-shirt. Then I picked up my phone off of the dresser and called Laci, figuring that this would be more discrete than holl
ering down the stairs.
Dorito answered her phone.
“Hello?”
“Let me talk to Mom.”
“Mom!” he called at the top of his voice so that I could hear him even through the closed bedroom door. “Daddy wants to talk to you.”
So much for discrete.
“Hello?” I heard Laci ask.
“Can you come up here for a minute?”
There was a pause.
“I’ll be right there,” she finally said.
I was sitting on the bed, putting on my shoes when Laci opened the bedroom door and closed it behind her. She stood across the room, staring at me . . . waiting for me to talk. I could tell that she felt scared. Guilty. The look on her face let me know that she was desperate to make peace with me and was going to do whatever it took to make that happen.
“I know this isn’t a good time for this,” I said, nodding toward the door and the party that was going on downstairs without us, “but I need to know something right now.”
She gave me a nod.
“And I want you to tell me the truth,” I added.
She gave me another nod.
I took a deep breath and looked her right in the eye.
“How long did you date him?”
She thought for a minute and then answered, “A year and a half.”
“A year and a half!?”
She nodded. That was longer than both of the times I’d dated her put together.
“Did you sleep with him?”
“NO!” she replied, instantly angry. “How could you even ask me that?!”
“This is Tanner we’re talking about,” I reminded her. She opened her mouth to argue, but then closed it again, silently conceding that Tanner wasn’t exactly known for restraint and self-discipline in that department.
“It’s me we’re talking about too,” she finally said quietly. “You know me better than that.”
“I thought I knew you better than that,” I said, “but I also never thought you’d lie to me.”
“I didn’t lie to you,” she insisted.
“Why? Just because I never specifically asked you, ‘So, Laci, did you and Tanner ever date while you were in college?’. You think that just because you’ve never had to deny it means you haven’t been lying to me?”