Dr. Zeeland told me it wasn’t healthy, the way I attached myself to these guys. The way I experienced most of my emotions through them. I honestly didn’t see the problem, but I played along. After a month of talking to him every single day, and watching his reaction to my stories, I decided to change them up a little. I told him I could see how he had been right. That in the past, I had been taking responsibility for other people’s reactions to my emotions. That I changed how I acted to make my boyfriends more comfortable.
But I told him that I was all better, and that I didn’t care about what anyone else thought about me. I mostly wanted to get out of that hospital. I didn’t feel like it was helping me at all. So I told Dr. Zeeland what he wanted to hear, just like I did with my boyfriends.
But honestly, I didn’t see anything wrong with that. As far as I was concerned, when I experienced my feelings through Brian, or any of my other ex-boyfriends, it made our connection stronger. It made everything more real.
And I knew, if I could just see Fred again … if I could talk to him and ask him about that night … and maybe explain how special it was to me … how connected we were for that brief moment in time … that he would realize how much he wanted me too. How could he not? How could he ignore what we had together? How could he deny our intense connection?
I finally got the courage to move my eyes up above my neck and look at my face, and I was immediately sorry. All I could see was a girl pretending to be a woman. Pretending to be sexy and hot and free-spirited. I saw someone who didn’t actually own any of the clothes she went out in. Who only had enough money to rent a crappy single room in a half-way house. And whose entire food pantry consisted of a dented can of string beans.
I hated that girl so much for how crappy she let her life get. I had so many dreams when I was little. I thought I was going to get married and live in a huge house with a swimming pool out back. I thought I’d have at least two kids by my late twenties.
There was only one thing that would help me get out of this hole I was in. A big drink … and Fred. I had to find him. I had to ask him why he didn’t want me. That was all I needed. I swear, after I talked to him and he told me his side of the story, I would leave him alone. I would get on with my life and never look back. I just needed him to tell me what was so wrong with me.
Chapter 5
Jerry
A recent report estimates about a billion security cameras rolling worldwide. Make no mistake, Big Brother is watching.
I couldn’t tell if I was still dreaming, or if I had actually woken up when my alarm went off. The story that was being told over the radio waves by the overly zealous voice of a reporter felt way too surreal and close to my own current reality to be true. It seemed like it had to be a dream. Or a nightmare.
I opened my eyes and looked at the radio alarm clock on the bedside table. It was practically ancient by today’s standards, where everyone and their grandma used their phone for not only an alarm clock, but also their computer, and their flashlight, and their compass. These days they were used for pretty much everything. Everything except an actual phone.
Stay tuned for the weather at seventeen minutes after the hour, every hour, on 1780 KRGO, your twenty-four-hour news station.
I turned to the clock and read the time—7:15. I must have hit the snooze more than once. Way more. But for the life of me I couldn’t tell if it was supposed to be a.m. or p.m. I figured it had to be 7:15 in the evening, because if it was morning, the sun would be blinding me through the window on my side of the bed. It definitely looked like dusk was just around the corner, which meant I had overslept like crazy. I was usually out the door and on my way to the first stop on my route by 9:00 p.m.
I sat up, forcing myself to throw the nice, warm covers off of me and get out of bed. I did not want to get up. I’d only gotten a few hours of sleep last night. Partly because I spent so much time talking to Dave, and partly because Annette and I got into a fight the minute I walked in the door. She was pissed because she knew that my coming home late meant I would get up late, and if I got up late, I wouldn’t be able to help her with the twins, which is exactly what happened. But apparently yelling at me and keeping me up for an extra hour was perfectly fine in her book.
I made my way down the stairs, bracing myself for the scowl I was about to get when I turned the corner into the kitchen.
“Daddy!” the twins both yelled the minute my feet hit the cold linoleum floor.
“You’re going to be late,” Annette said, her back to me as she fried something on the stove. “You must’ve hit the snooze at least seven times.”
“Eight, I think,” I said, scratching my head with both hands, then rubbing my eyes. “Don’t worry about it, babe. I’m not on a time clock. I can go in whenever.”
Annette whirled around, a plate in each hand, and swiftly crossed the kitchen over to the nook. That’s the way she did everything these days—quick, efficient, no-nonsense. She was a multitasking rockstar, and no matter how much I did at work or around the house, she always managed to make me feel like a failure.
We had discussed early on, when we found out she was pregnant with the twins, that I would work outside the house and she would take a little time off from the liquor store a few days a week. I guess she figured that since I worked nights and was home all day long, I should be shouldering half of the burden, even though most of that time was technically set aside for me to sleep. I was definitely a man who required a full eight hours to function, but these days I rarely got six.
I made an effort to pitch in anywhere I could, with cooking dinner or doing dishes or bathing the kids or putting them to bed, which gave me very little time for anything else. But I got the distinct feeling that the fact that I actually left the house and went out every night of the week led Annette to believe that I was living it up somehow. That I was using my job as an escape hatch to get away from her. Which, when I thought about it, wasn’t very far from the truth.
“What do you need?” I asked, moving up behind her and tentatively putting my hands on her shoulders. I knew from experience that when she was in this sort of mood any touching might backfire, any words could be grossly misinterpreted, and God forbid I actually tried to give her a kiss. I stopped attempting any advances a long time ago. I decided if she wanted intimate contact she would come to me when she was ready. Like I said, that was well over a year ago.
“What I need is for you to help me out around here a little more, Jerry. Sometimes I feel like my lifeline has been cut off and I’m free-floating in outer space.”
“Just tell me what you need, sweetie. Anything.”
“What I needed was for you to get up two hours ago to help me cook dinner and clean up a little. I’ve been cleaning all day long and I wanted a break.”
“Where’s Brenda?” I asked. “I thought she was supposed to be helping out around the house this summer.”
“She met a boy and asked if she could go out with him tonight,” she said with a sigh. “I just wanted some time to enjoy myself for ten minutes tonight, but I couldn’t say no to her, so I told her she could go, and wound up doing everything myself.”
I felt like a complete ass and a horrible husband. But even then, I couldn’t stop. I had to keep the lie up. “I’m so sorry, honey. What happened today wasn’t intentional. It was just part of my job.”
Annette turned around and sighed again. “I know. I’m just so overwhelmed. I’m with the twins all day long while you’re asleep, then all night while you’re gone. Then there’s the store that I’m away from more and more. I just feel so …” Her voice cracked and she lowered her head, and I watched two tears rolled down her cheeks. “I feel so alone, Jerry.”
I brought my hands up and put them on her shoulders and felt an incredible sense of relief when her body melted into mine. She didn’t pull away like she usually did. She actually wrapped her arms around my waist and dropped her head on my chest. I was so happy I wanted to drop to the floor and s
tay curled up in a ball with her forever.
“Everything is going to be okay, babe. I promise. This is just a phase. We are going to get through it. Tell me what you need from me, and I’ll do it.”
Annette looked up and smiled. “It’s okay. There’s not much to do. The twins have already had dinner. I just need to get them in the bath and put them to bed.”
I kissed her on the forehead and immediately felt her body tense ever so slightly. “Okay,” I said, trying not to let my disappointment show. “You do that. I’ll clean up the kitchen.”
“Thank you.”
For a moment, I thought she might give me a kiss, but she didn’t. She just turned away and wrangled the girls away from the table, then through the doorway. I watched as they disappeared up the stairs, wondering if my wife was going to touch me on her own volition ever again.
As I rinsed the dishes and put them into the dishwasher, I told myself over and over again, this was it. I was never going to cheat on my wife again. I was going to do everything in my power to be here for her, and for the twins. I was going to text Olivia and cancel our plans for the evening, then I would wait a couple days and see if things naturally fizzled out.
But then I remembered I had to see her. I had to ask her about the note. Tell her about the video. She deserved to know everything. Even if she was doing what Dave suggested—cheating on a partner just like me—she deserved to know what was going on.
I was filled with conviction when I left the house. I was going to show her the note, tell her what I found at Dave’s office, ask her if she knew the guy, and that was it. I wasn’t going to let her beautiful eyes pull me in. I wasn’t going to let myself go down that road again. I loved Annette. I needed to be there for her. I needed to own up to my part in our failing marriage.
But at some point on the way to our meeting spot, I knew I wasn’t going to be able to go through with it. I knew when I saw Olivia’s sweet smile that I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from touching her and kissing her and feeling her in my arms.
The only thing I had texted her before I left the house was to meet me in the north corner of the ferry terminal parking lot. It was always pretty busy, with commuters and tourists coming and going at all hours of the day and night, especially this time of year. So I figured our cars wouldn’t stand out too much. When I got there, I spotted her immediately and pulled up in the parking space right alongside her car, then I quickly got out and into her passenger seat.
“We’re not going to stay here in this parking lot, are we?” she asked with an adorably confused look on her face, which melted into a smile when I moved in to kiss her.
I had a hard time tearing myself away from those soft lips of hers, and the incredible fruity scent of her soft blonde hair. I could have stayed there like that forever—with the fingers of one hand wrapped around her head, and the other touching the soft skin of her cheek. But I didn’t want to risk being seen by anyone so I forced myself to pull back.
“We have to talk,” I said, dropping my hands down and holding one of hers in mine. “Someone knows about us.”
Olivia’s eyes went wide. “What are you talking about? Who?”
“Olivia, are you seeing anyone else?” I asked, but then realized how my question sounded. “What I mean is … of course you’re free to see anyone you want. We’re obviously not exclusive, and I don’t want to pry. It’s just that …”
“No, I’m not seeing anyone else. And I’ve been really careful, Jerry. What happened? How did you find out?”
I reached in my jacket pocket and pulled out the note. “When I was making my rounds last night, I found this on my car outside The Barn,” I said, handing it to her.
Olivia’s eyes were fixed on mine as she unfolded the paper, then when it was open, she glanced down and read what was written on one side. She looked back up at me and I could see concern in her eyes.
“Turn it over,” I said. “There’s something else written on the back.”
When she saw the name that Dave had scrawled on the other side, she brought her hand to her face and covered her mouth, then looked back up at me. She was visibly shaken.
“Do you know who that is?” I asked. “Robert Logan?”
Olivia took her hand away from her face and nodded. “I was seeing him for a while, but I’m not now. It’s been … jeez … almost a year?”
“Was it serious?”
She shrugged. “Not very. We dated for a few months. I had dinner at his house. We met at the wharf and Scandal a few times and had lunch afterward. We had plans to go for a day hike around the lake, but that kept getting pushed back. It was on both of our ends. We never seemed to be able to make it work. And from there, things faded. As far as I was concerned, it was completely mutual. Neither one of us seemed particularly driven to continue the relationship. That’s how I perceived it anyway.”
“So you’re sure he wasn’t angry? He didn’t try to contact you?”
Olivia thought for a moment. “No. In fact, I did see him quite a while after that. It was maybe six months ago at Fresh Barons Grocery. It was slightly awkward, but I couldn’t detect any bad feelings coming from him. He smiled when he said goodbye.” She looked perplexed as she thought about their last meeting. “I don’t understand. Why would he have written this note?”
“I have no idea. But he’s definitely the one who sent the video.”
“Wait, there really is a video?” she asked, the worry lines in her forehead deepening.
I nodded. “That’s where I got the name and address. A tech friend of mine helped me. It was taken with a camera that I didn’t install. At first, I thought maybe someone had hacked one of my lines, but I examine the footage every single day, and there are no shots on my phone from that angle, or of that particular location.”
“The couch,” Olivia said, an almost pained expression crossing her face.
“Yeah, the couch. So, that means this guy was not only watching us, but he broke into Spencer & Grant to set up a camera. Unless … wait, what does he do, this Robert Logan guy?”
“I’m not sure. If I remember right, he had retired early, from the military I think. Maybe he knows someone who works there. A friend?”
“It’s possible. I’ll have a look around when I go in tonight, and I’ll check the list of employees they gave me. I doubt I’ll find anything obvious, though. And I’m not about to question any of them. The only thing that would do is raise suspicion that there was some sort of problem. That I had let something happen.” I sighed, realizing how fucked I was. “If that video gets out, I’m screwed in so many ways.”
“Oh, Jerry, this is so terrible,” she said, putting her hands on either side of my face. “What are you going to do?”
“My friend and I are gonna go check this address out.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“Well, I don’t have much of a choice. I need to get to the bottom of this. I trust Dave, but I can’t have anyone else finding out. There’s way too much on the line.”
“So you’re going to talk to him?” Olivia pulled her hands down until they were resting on my shoulders, but she was still so distractingly close. I could smell that sweet, fruity scent again, and it was making it hard for me to keep my thoughts straight.
“Not exactly,” I said, clearing my throat. “I want to go check out his house first. I know the area. I’ve done some jobs around there. And you’ve been there, right?” I asked.
“Just once. At night. For dinner. I don’t remember the outside very well. I know it took some time to get there. At least a half hour from the ferry terminal.”
“That’s right, you weren’t living on the island back then. How often did you come over here?”
Olivia looked away for a moment while she thought back. “I don’t know, maybe every other week.”
“Is there anything else you remember about him? Did he have a gun rack or safe?”
“I have no idea, Jerry. We didn’t talk abo
ut anything like that.”
“Okay,” I said with a sigh. “I’ll just check the place out, maybe do a little more research. If you think of anything at all, let me know.”
“Of course, but honestly, I barely remember anything about him. I think that’s the reason we drifted apart. There just wasn’t any chemistry. Nothing exciting or interesting or even remotely memorable. He was nothing like you.” Olivia smiled, bit her lower lip, then slipped one of her hands back up onto my chin and began tracing my lips with her fingers. “I know you’re worried and you want to get to your rounds, but do you think we could …” She glanced down and grabbed one of my hands, then brought it up to her lips and sucked my index finger right in.
I opened my mouth to speak, but I couldn’t. I was completely frozen in place as I watched Olivia’s red lips move up and down my finger and felt the warmth and wetness of her tongue. I had to fight through a trance to get anything out. “Not here,” I whispered finally. “Can we go to your place?”
Olivia released my finger and shook her head. “No, my roommate is home. She’ll be there all night.”
“Well, we definitely can’t go back to any of the offices. It was stupid to risk that in the first place. I guess that just leaves the car. I know it’s not the most romantic spot in the world, but …”
Olivia’s eyes lit up. “I don’t care where we are, as long as where together.”
She leaned in and kissed me again and I couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt in my gut. I knew what we were doing was wrong. I’d known it all along. But suddenly I felt like we had crossed a line. We were in a car in a busy parking lot where anyone could see us. This was just so irresponsible.
Also, I knew how much Olivia and I wanted each other. It was obvious every time we were together. But the feelings we had for each other seemed to be getting much deeper. This was so different than any of the one-night stands I’d had in the past.
Infidelity Inlet: A Liars Island Suspense Page 4