I hop out of the car, take three steps and my foot lands on a small pebble in the street. I lose my balance and turn my ankle.
It dawns on me that I’m still wearing the little black dress and strappy sandals I wore to dinner last night. God, that seems like aeons ago. Why didn’t I change clothes before we left? Come to think of it, I hope Alex and Rainey got my suitcase, because I have no recollection of packing it or putting it in the car.
My ankle throbs, but I ignore it and glance up and down the street looking for any neighbors who might be lurking in the predawn darkness. The air smells of winter and has that cold, dewy quality that rains on Florida in the middle of the night instead of blanketing the ground with frost. I shiver.
All I can see is the glowing red taillights of Alex’s car parked in the street two houses down. If the neighbors see me getting out of a strange car dressed like this at this hour, it will look bad. When they hear that Corbin and I are divorcing, they’re going to think I’m the one who cheated.
Anger merges with despair, and tears brim at the thought of—divorce. It’s like a well-landed punch to the gut. I want to throw myself down on the carpet of grass and bawl, but instead, I limp as fast as I can—ouch, my ankle really hurts—up the driveway to the garage door on the side of the house.
I must be in more of a stupor than I realize, because it’s only after the burglar alarm blares that I remember the only door you can enter without setting off the system is the front door.
“Oh shit!”
My dog, Jack, is barking and throwing himself against the door so hard, I’m afraid he’ll break through. In a matter of seconds, the neighbors are going to look out to see what the racket’s about, and the police are going to arrive to find me breaking into my own house.
I do what any person in this situation with half a brain would do—I run.
Excruciating pain be damned, I run as fast as I can to Alex’s car, turning the same ankle twice more before I jump in, and we speed away like criminals.
“What the hell happened back there?” Alex says.
I collapse into the backseat. “I forgot about the alarm system.”
Despite the chilly February morning air, I’ve broken a sweat. I wipe away the moisture and reach down and rub my ankle. It’s already swollen to twice its normal size.
Caitlin is going to be so scared. And Jenny—she’ll be able to turn off the alarm since she turned it on—same code, but will she know the password? Will she call Corbin? Does she even know how to get in touch with Corbin? She thinks he’s at the hospital.
When we’re a safe distance away from my neighborhood, I hear police sirens wail in the distance. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.
“Are you okay?” Rainey asks.
“I forgot how to sprint in four-inch heels.”
“Is it broken? Do you need to get it checked?”
“No.” I unbuckle the strap and the pain shoots all the way up my calf. “If I did, at least I’d have a valid excuse for going to the hospital.”
“So let’s go.” Alex coasts to a stop at the intersection of Aloma and Lakemont. The hospital is just past the intersection on the east side of Aloma.
“No! He’s not there. What am I supposed to say when the nurses start asking questions? How’d you sprain your ankle, Mrs. Hennessey? I was running away after I set off the alarm system at my own house. Where’s your husband tonight, Mrs. Hennessey? I don’t know. He said he was going to be here tonight, I was hoping you might have seen him.”
“So his car wasn’t in the garage?” Rainey says.
I shake my head. “Just mine.”
“It wasn’t a bad idea to double-check,” says Alex. “In fact, where’s the doctor’s parking lot? Let’s drive by just in case.”
“It’s right next to the entrance, but you can’t get in because you need a card to access the gate. Security’s on duty 24-7. Even if we tried to walk in they’re going to ask questions.”
Besides, I can tell by the way my entire leg throbs that I’m not fit to walk any great distance. “Isn’t it a good sign if you have pain? Doesn’t it mean the bone’s not broken?”
“I think so,” says Rainey.
Hmm… Imagine that. Pain, a good thing.
“I’m still going to swing around that way and see what we can see.”
She does, and just as I predict, we see nothing. Alex drives into the hospital’s visitor parking lot and pulls into one of the spaces.
“What are you doing?” I sit up straight. “I said I’m not going in there.”
She kills the engine, unbuckles her seat belt then turns around to look at me. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“It depends on what you’re asking. My ankle’s fine—or I’m sure it will be. As for the rest of me—I’ll have to get back to you.”
Rainey pats her lap. “Put your foot up here.”
I slant her a dubious glance.
“Come on.” From the look on her face, I’m afraid she’s going to reach down and lift up my leg herself if I don’t comply. “You need to elevate it. And you really should put some ice on it. Alex, can we go somewhere and get her some ice? And an Ace bandage, too.”
“Sure, but first, Kate, what’s the number for the hospital?”
“Why?” I ask, settling my foot on top of the jacket Rainey’s balled up and set on her lap.
“Since we’re here, we might as well double-check that he didn’t show up after all.”
I’m flooded by the realization of what a catch-22 this phone call is. If she phones and he’s not in, I’m screwed because my husband’s not where he said he’d be. If she calls and he’s there, I’ve ruined the weekend.
I feel very strange having Alex drive me halfway across Florida, while I sit in the backseat as if she’s my own private chauffeur. Now I’m sitting here in the hospital parking with my foot propped in Rainey’s lap as if I’m the Queen of Sheba. We’re the best of friends, but this goes above and beyond. What they’ve done for me since we left Palm Beach has broken the outer bounds of friendship. My eyes flood again, and I pull out my cell from my purse and hand it to Alex. “The number’s stored. Use my phone to call.”
She takes it. “No. I’ll use mine. Just in case they track the incoming calls. I wouldn’t want your name flashing on their screen.”
An ambulance wails and a few seconds later pulls into the emergency entrance that’s right across from the visitors’ parking lot.
Alex turns around and faces forward to make the call.
“Yes, hello, may I speak to Doctor Corbin Hennessey, please? … Certainly.”
There’s a pause and we all seem to be holding our breaths waiting for the answer.
“Oh right, yes, this is the pharmacist at Walgreens drugstore. I have a question about a prescription Dr. Hennessey wrote tonight… I’d prefer to hold rather than leaving my number. The customer’s waiting….”
Alex glances at us, grimaces and rolls her eyes, then turns around again.
I’m watching the paramedics unload their emergency patient from the back of the ambulance. A team of nurses and a doctor I don’t recognize meet them at the entrance. Their routine is as well choreographed as a difficult dance.
“No, that’s not a good idea,” Alex says into the phone. “You see, we’re…ummmm… We’re having trouble with our phone system. We can dial out but no one can dial in. That’s why I’d prefer to hold… Certainly, I’ll hold.”
Alex glances back at Rainey and me and shrugs. She covers the receiver with her hand and whispers, “They’re paging him—Oh, right, yes, I’m here….” Alex grips the steering wheel with her free hand. “Oh, yes, I see. He hasn’t been in all weekend.”
CHAPTER 5
Alex and Rainey deliver me home at seven o’clock on Sunday night. The ever-dutiful wife is right on time. When we pull in, there are no extra cars in the driveway. If I open the side garage door, this time I will not set off the alarm and will, in fact, find Corbin’s car parked next
to mine where it should be.
Alex pops the trunk. Both she and Rainey get out to help with my suitcase.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” The streetlight casts a halo on Rainey’s blond curly hair. She looks like an angel of mercy.
“I’ll be fine.” Even though I don’t feel fine.
I wish she hadn’t asked me because I was doing fine until she brought it up. I think she realizes it because she and Alex stand there for a couple of beats not saying anything. Alex picks up my suitcase and carries it to the front porch.
The big houses on my street look different bathed in the darkening twilight glow. It’s a vignette I’ve seen hundreds of times over the twelve years we’ve lived here, but tonight it looks different.
I can’t put my finger on what’s changed. The old-fashioned street lamps glow, same as always. A few porch lights are lit. White smoke wafts from chimneys. It’s as if I’ve been away for a very long time and am seeing the mundane with new eyes. How is it that you can look at something every day for years and not really see it?
It hits me that if Corbin and I get a divorce we’ll have to sell the house, because that’s what divorced people do. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing. Could I live in that house with those beige walls without him?
Of course not. I’d have to paint them Scarlett O’Hara red. Maybe redecorate the living room in that Moroccan theme that’s in my new Architectural Digest.
“Call me tomorrow and let me know how everything goes, okay?” says Rainey. “Or call me tonight after you put Caitlin to bed if you need to talk.”
The click of Alex’s heels on the pavers sounds overly loud as she rejoins us.
“Are you sure you don’t want us to go in with you?”
She’s standing there—all five foot eleven of her—with her hands fisted on her slim hips looking as though she wants to punch Corbin.
“Wouldn’t we be a formidable sight?” I say. “The scorned wife with her angry posse come to lynch the cheating bastard husband. Corbin wouldn’t know what hit him.”
I try to laugh, but my voice cracks.
On good days my husband doesn’t understand the female need to bond. If he caught sight of us now—the mood we’re in—I’m sure he’d run for the hills without pausing to ask questions. As much as I dread walking this path alone, I must.
I shake my head.
Rainey and Alex exchange a glance.
“Then we’re going to take off, okay?” says Alex. “Call us if you need anything. I can be here in a jiff.”
I nod.
We hug.
They get in the car.
I stand in the driveway and watch the car’s taillights grow smaller, finally rounding the corner and disappearing from sight.
It’s cold outside. I pull my jacket closer around my neck. This was supposed to be the trip that capped off the last year of our thirties. Oh God, I hope it’s not an omen of what’s to come as I cross the midlife threshold.
I’m going to be forty and divorced. After twenty years of marriage, I’ve given half my life to this man—and it comes to this?
This does not bode well.
Does divorce mean half my life is gone? Is it all erased with the signing of papers? Written off like a bad investment?
The voice of reason tries to slam a mental door on the voice of hysteria: You don’t know for sure. There may be a logical explanation to why Corbin was out. Rainey even said so in the car on the way home.
This reasoning rings hollow and cold. Just like my insides as I begin my long hobble to the porch.
The evening air smells of fireplace smoke and a mélange of dinners cooking. Homey smells that make me sad.
The living room lights shine through the plantation shutters; the porch and the ambient yard lighting glow. For all intents and purposes one would think the stage was set for a warm welcome home.
I stand in front of the door for a minute, gathering myself, getting into character so I don’t go in and break down, blowing everything.
Yesterday, when I met with Hal Washington, private investigator, we decided it would be best for me to pretend everything was normal for the time being.
Easy for him to say.
It will be the performance of a lifetime, despite how many times I mentally rehearsed my homecoming yesterday while I lay on Alex’s couch with my iced, bandaged foot propped on pillows. All I have to do is open the door, walk in, hug Caitlin, kiss Corbin—
Pricks of fury flow up and down my spine. Kissing him after he’s been kissing God knows who?
I don’t want him to touch me. But if I don’t act normal Corbin will be suspicious and unless he’s a real idiot, he’ll most likely follow the straight and narrow, thereby prolonging Hal’s task of catching him in the act.
If I act normal, Corbin will carry on and…well, the rest will soon be history.
I ease my key into the lock. Jack barks as I let myself in. The dog jumps up to greet me, knocking me off balance. I brace myself on the door frame.
The television is blaring in the other room. One of Caitlin’s PBS shows.
What would I normally do? Call out Hello, I’m home.
I can’t find my voice, so I leave my suitcase in the foyer and walk into the living room. Caitlin’s alone, sprawled on her stomach on the floor watching TV in her play clothes. Corbin hasn’t bathed her or bothered to get her into her jammies, which takes my apprehension down a couple of pegs to simmering anger.
The house smells vaguely of the popcorn my daughter’s eating and unwashed dog—Jack didn’t get his bath this weekend, either. Of course there’s no dinner waiting. I don’t know why it would even enter my mind that Corbin might have thought ahead and ordered takeout or even pizza.
In the past, I would have fallen back on well, at least he left the porch light on. But not this time. Anger ripples along my spine. My humoring benefit-of-the-doubt days are over.
Caitlin, on the other hand, lying there so small and innocent does not deserve the brunt of my anger toward her father.
I sneak up behind her and whisper, “Boo!” and tickle her. Delighted screams fill the air. She wriggles out of my grasp and throws her arms around my neck.
“Mommy! You’re home. I missed you so much.”
I feel almost whole again holding her, except for that constant reminder that this is no longer a home, not a happy one, anyway. A pang courses through me over how I’m going to explain to my daughter why her daddy can’t live with us anymore.
But I’m not going to think about it until Hal Washington presents proof positive.
I ease myself down beside Caitlin, favoring my sore ankle, wondering what she’ll say about the alarm going off in the middle of the night. “Did you and Daddy have a good weekend?”
She’s kneeling in front of me and has one arm draped over my shoulder. She shrugs, picks up a strand of my hair and twirls it around her finger. She nods and her eyes shine. “We took Jack to the dog park today. It was so much fun.”
She falls into my lap, still playing with my hair.
I’m so tempted to ask her if anything out of the ordinary happened—Babysitters? Burglar alarms? “I’m glad you had a good time.”
She hugs me again and whispers, “Did you bring my nail polish like you promised?”
Oh— In the midst of all the craziness, I didn’t get back to the salon to get her pink polish. But I have a bottle of fuchsia in my bathroom I’ll give her. Not really appropriate for a little girl—not really appropriate for me, either. I got it for my toenails, wore it once, but the color was too bright. Caitlin can have fun with it. She’ll love the color and never know that it came from my cosmetics bag rather than the Palm Beach salon.
“I do have some nail polish for you.”
She springs to her feet and jumps up and down. “Can I have it now? Will you paint my nails tonight so I can wear it to school tomorrow?”
I nod. “First, I have to unpack and say hello to Daddy. Where is he?” Vague twinges
of anxiety twitter in my stomach, but I have to face him sooner or later.
“He’s up in his office talking on the phone.”
Caution flares go off in my mind. Caitlin settles back on the floor to watch the rest of her program.
“Who’s he talking to?”
She shrugs. A dancing hippopotamus on the big screen has snared her attention. I get to my feet feeling less graceful than the animated character.
“So, did I miss anything fun while I was gone?” Careful, you’re pushing it.
She stares at the TV. “Nope. It was really boring without you.”
Hmm. Well, how about that? I suppose she could have slept through the alarm. Sometimes I think a train could come through the house and it wouldn’t wake her up. But… Well, it’s okay. In fact, it’s best she doesn’t know anything’s wrong right now. Corbin obviously got home before Caitlin woke up. Jenny probably paged him when the alarm went off.
Whatever.
I hobble into the foyer to get my suitcase.
It’s difficult to navigate the stairs with my bag and my bum ankle, but I manage. Yesterday, I considered not even unpacking when I got home. One of the dozens of scenarios I hatched was to come in and grab Caitlin and leave.
Looking down the dark hall from the top step, I see light shining out from under Corbin’s closed office door. I’m tempted to slip into Caitlin’s room, pack a bag, grab her blankie and a few special toys and leave.
No note.
No hint about where we’ve gone.
Just disappear for a night or two. A rush of satisfaction washes over me at the horror and shock he’ll feel when he goes downstairs to find the front door unlocked and his daughter gone. That’ll teach him.
I shudder.
No, it probably won’t. I’m sure in his mind he’s found some way to compartmentalize both lives he’s leading. I’m sure guilt over one would never cross his chauvinistic mind should he think we’d gone missing.
Besides, it would be dirty pool. Even as mad as I am at him, I can’t be that mean. And Alex’s words flood to the forefront of my mind.
Out with the Old, In with the New Page 5