by Emily Nealis
It wasn’t long before we realized it was nearly 1:00 in the morning. The last guests were finally beginning to disperse. Haley emerged from the bar and found us the same place we’d been the entire night, standing against the brick wall on the patio. She asked if we’d seen Travis and Carolyn. Both Haley and Adam had assumed the couple would’ve had a terrible fight by now and they’d have to drive them home separately. Fortunately, Travis and Carolyn were still getting along and, in fact, were standing together out on the patio. As Haley ran to catch them before they could disappear, she asked for my phone number, so we could exchange pictures we’d taken during the reception. I recited my phone number to her before she ran off to capture the bride and groom.
“Well, are you ready?” Adam asked me as Haley picked up Carolyn’s train and helped her exit the patio. I looked around, patting myself, making sure I had everything I came with, which was only a small purse.
“Yes. Do we need to wait for anyone else?”
“No.” Adam shook his head and pushed off the brick wall. He placed a hand on my back and guided me across the brick patio to the garden steps. He offered his arm as we reached the first step. I linked my arm in his and we ascended the garden steps toward the parking lot.
“So, we’re good friends now?” I asked as we sped through the town I grew up in. My feet ached, and I’d already tugged off my brown leather wedge sandals, which were tossed in a pile on the floorboards. The air was still warm and balmy and had already done its work on my hair, evident from the tiny curls that escaped the twisted bun on the back of my head.
“I think we are. We don’t have a problem finding things to talk about. You also don’t seem to mind talking to me. You didn’t have to stay there that long, but you did. You also could’ve left with your friend, but you didn’t.” He glanced at me and then back to the road. I nodded, approving of his logic.
“I can only assume that, at the very least, we’re good friends because you want to be alone with me as much as I want to be alone with you.” He said this in such a matter-of-fact way that I didn’t reply immediately. Goosebumps flooded over my legs as the energy seemed to change dramatically between us. I hadn’t anticipated any of this and I was unsure of how to even respond. I turned to look at him. Shadows from the streetlights flashed over his facial features. He turned and looked back it me for a moment. He wasn’t smiling, but his eyes were sharp and intense, as if he was convincing me to acknowledge the situation.
“It’s possible.” I finally said. I rested my elbow on the edge of the window, leaning my cheek against my thumb and index finger.
“Say the word and I’ll just pull over right now and kiss you like I’ve been wanting to all night.” Adam didn’t break his gaze on the road. Having caught me by surprise, I tossed my head back with a guffaw.
Suddenly, he pulled the truck over onto a side street and cut the engine. We sat in silence for a moment. I looked over at him. His left arm was resting at the top of the steering wheel. The keys were dangling in the ignition. My eyes shifted from the keys back to him. I looked at him as though I was trying to decide if he was serious. At that moment, I had no idea. His right hand reached for the edge of the console. He tossed a bottle of water out of the cup holder into the back seat and folded the entire console back up, revealing the rest of the bench seat.
“Say the word.” His eyes bore into mine. I stared back at him, deciding what to do. My shoes were already off. I could run. I was fast. But it was also dark, and I had no idea where I was or what road we had turned onto. Everything I was taught as a woman said to flee and not look back. I stopped myself, though. I wasn’t afraid of this man. I didn’t feel any fear, and therefore I didn’t feel the need to flee. Instead, I considered taking him up on his offer. He was an extremely attractive person, and I’d be lying if I said he was wrong about anything he’d said. But he was also married, and that was a completely different story. I thought to myself, this is the epitome of an ethical dilemma. Before I could say anything, Adam broke the silence.
“If I came over there, would you hit me?”
“Yes.” I said, seizing the opportunity to take the high road. This situation involved more consideration than I had time or energy for. It was best just to avoid it at that moment. Adam smiled and turned the key, starting the ignition again. He pulled back onto the road, the smile remaining on his face until we finally arrived on my street. I leaned over and plucked my shoes off the floor. I stepped out of the truck and, before shutting the door, turned back to him.
“Goodbye, Adam Hunt.” The way he looked back at me was as if he knew something I
didn’t. I recognized immediately that he was the kind of person who knew how to draw people to him. Someone like that was dangerous, and I knew if I didn’t shut the door in the next few seconds, I had a mind to get back inside.
“Goodnight, Diana Sanderson.”
3
April 5 – A NIGHT ON KEENE TROY PIKE
Haley
Who the hell knows how much kielbasa and chicken legs to make for an unknown number of people who are going to descend on your home at various times throughout the night? After filling half a shopping cart with meat, I decided enough was enough and filled the remaining space with enough Bud Select to hold us over until next summer’s first barbecue. But who was I kidding? I would stop and get a few bottles of sauvignon blanc on the way home. I told Adam I would pick up everything for the barbecue that night because I love driving those country roads. After packing enough pig and alcohol in the back of my SUV to feed a small army, I started back home. Driving over those hills, past the horse farms lined with miles of black and white fence was a constant reminder of why we decided to move to the farm. I was also ready for a night to relax and be with friends. After a winter of snow removal, holidays, and family filling every guest room in the house, it felt amazing to open the windows and air out our entire life. It didn’t hurt that it was the perfect opportunity for the girls to have a weekend with Adam’s parents. Ever since we moved, his mom began implying that she didn’t see enough of us or her granddaughters. As usual, it was up to me to defuse the situation, which usually involved Adam informing the offending party that it’s his way or the highway. Normally, I wouldn’t care if he told them to go to hell, but I’d rather not go back to the days when that was the norm.
Not many people know about how far Adam has come in that regard. It would surprise some people to know that he used to have incredible anger issues. It was part of the reason I didn’t speak to my parents for the first year of June’s life. It was also part of the reason we almost divorced when the girls were little. The strange thing is that I didn’t even realize it at first. He was always getting into fights in high school, but then he went off to the Army and, when he came back it was like he’d completely grown up. Then, one night we were out at a bar with some friends and some guy rolled up in a truck, acting like a fool, and tried to pick a fight with one of our friends. Adam yelled at him to get out of his truck. When he wouldn’t, Adam walked up to his door, grabbed him by the shirt, and dragged him through the window onto the pavement. He started beating the guy senseless until three people dragged Adam off him and told him to just get out of there before the cops showed up. When that kind of anger took over, he didn’t look like Adam anymore. When June was born, I told him he had to get a handle on it because he couldn’t be like that around her. He had to find another way to deal with whatever was going on inside him.
It was around that time Adam also stopped drinking liquor. He was smart enough to know what contributed to his anger issues. From then on, whenever he drank, it was only beer, and on rare occasions, a shot of moonshine with his brother. Adam spent a lot of time in counseling figuring out how to control all that rage, but I never really knew where it came from, though. He didn’t come from violence or poverty. He had good parents and he grew up on the south side of Lexington just like I did. There was just something different inside him. Whatever it was I didn’t care, and I would stay w
ith him as long as I never had to see it again. He’s capable of tremendous love, which is why he’s the best father our girls could have and will do anything for his family and anyone else he cares about.
I watched Adam from the bonfire at the bottom of the hill, bending over the open hood of his truck with his brother and two friends from work. All I could see were his faded Wranglers, a disembodied set of legs propped up next to the truck. Beer bottles sat half-empty on the edge of the truck’s thick frame as each of them ducked in and out underneath of the hood. It didn’t matter if he was at a party or supposed to be relaxing—Adam had to be doing something. He had to stay busy. He could be sitting in a movie or asleep next to me and—suddenly—he would realize how to fix something and need to leave right then to do it. Adam was always thinking, always figuring out how to solve a problem. That’s why he looked so serious all the time, his deep hazel eyes were frozen in constant intensity. It’s all relative, I suppose, because when he did smile, it was one of the most beautiful things I’d ever seen. He had a smile that, when he looked at you, it was as though you were the only one in the world. That was one of Adam’s many skills. It didn’t matter how angry I was at the time or how much I gave him the cold shoulder—he knew how to make me fall in love with him over and over again.
By the time the sun set, I was sitting with Carolyn, our feet kicked up around the bonfire, on our second bottle of wine. It reminded me of the first time Travis brought her around to meet the family. It just happened to be a barbecue like this one, except it was at my parents’ house. She was quiet in the way an outsider can easily be overwhelmed by our boisterous family around grilled meat. However, she felt more at ease when she gave a brownie to Vivian, who responded, “Oh, girl, I like you.” By the end of the night, she was taking shots between s’mores as though she were already part of the family. Tonight was no different. The only difference was that my mom wasn’t around to pester her about when she and Travis were going to start a family. You’d never know the woman already has five grandchildren from the way she speaks to Travis and Carolyn.
Despite my mom’s constant monitoring of Carolyn’s reproductive plans, I didn’t think she was ready to start having children. She was still living the selfish life, which everyone needs to do before they commit to having kids. Besides that, Travis is a wonderful uncle, but it’s very difficult for me to imagine him with his own children. Maybe everyone is like that with their little brother. For now, he can remain my little brother who talks too loudly when he drinks too much and can’t hold his liquor to save his life.
Speaking of talking too loud, Travis should have learned long ago how to keep his mouth shut. Over the course of their relationship, he’d developed a talent for setting Carolyn off in less than five words. And that’s what I was doing that evening after drinking too much wine—gripping Carolyn’s forearm and digging my bare heels into the grass to prevent her from assaulting her husband. After subduing her, I convinced her to stay at the bonfire, waving Travis off before he started more trouble.
Sitting at that bonfire with Carolyn behind our house, I poured her another glass of wine and told her to let it go for now. She didn’t need to fight with him while she was drunk, anyway. I’d been through my own marital problems, after all. This wasn’t the last straw that would end a marriage, but I did tell her she was right to be upset, and their issues needed to be addressed before they grew into something more serious. Carolyn leaned back in her lawn chair.
“You’re so lucky.” She exhaled.
“Why do you say that?” I leaned back in my own chair, propping my feet up on the rocks surrounding the fire pit. Carolyn lifted her flattened palm into the air, waving it around and staring at me as if I just said something absolutely ridiculous.
“I don’t know, because you don’t have to work, and you have the perfect house and the perfect husband.” She scoffed, pursing her lips at me. Hearing Carolyn’s perception of my own life struck me as odd. I considered myself extremely lucky to live in a nice home with my husband and two healthy daughters, but it didn’t seem as luxurious as Carolyn seemed to think it was. I paused in thought.
“June and Vivian will both be in school next fall. I’ve been thinking that I need to figure out what to do. I won’t need to stay home with them anymore. I don’t know what to do, though.” As I spoke, I realized I was thinking out loud rather than talking to Carolyn.
“You’re smart, Haley. You could probably do a lot of things.” Carolyn leaned forward, holding her hand near the heat of the flames, “Weren’t you a teacher at their daycare before you moved out here? If you liked it, you could do that again.” She was right, I could have done that again. But the truth was that I hadn’t enjoyed it like I thought I would. When I started college, which might as well have been a million years ago, I planned on becoming a teacher. Working at the girls’ daycare was an extension of that plan that never materialized. I didn’t regret leaving school to get married and start a family, but I didn’t know what to do when my kids didn’t require every moment of my time.
Honestly, I didn’t even know if I had the same aspirations as I once did. I love children, but I found out while teaching them that there is a drastic difference between my children and other people’s children. I loved taking care of them, but I realized that I could only influence them so much within a few hours of the day. Eventually, they had to leave and be raised by their parents, which introduced a variety of habits, behaviors, and worries that a teacher can do little to control. I began to doubt my effect on them and that filled me with a strange sense of anxiety. With my own children, I could continue teaching them after we left school and ensure they utilized the knowledge they learned there. It was a bizarre feeling and I couldn’t help but feel like I didn’t have the mindset to be a teacher.
I didn’t tell Carolyn any of this. She was only trying to help, after all. The way she spoke about me not having to work and having the perfect home and husband made me laugh. If she only knew what my family had been through. I’m glad neither she or anyone else knew the details of the dark chapters of our life. It’s the same everywhere—no one really knows what goes on behind closed doors. That is, except Carolyn and Travis’s life; everyone knew what went on with them because you would overhear their life story if you happened to be standing within a five-foot radius of them.
I used to be like her. We used to be like them. Mine and Adam’s relationship was created from fire. Fortunately, we’d been able to salvage it again from the ashes and mold it into something worth saving. One might say we were the quintessential high school cliché; the plain, studious girl falls for the wild one. Most people didn’t realize how intelligent he was, but at the time it was overshadowed by his rebellious nature with no interest in following any sort of traditional life trajectory. It was the same reason my family thought he would end up in jail and I would end up destitute and visiting him there on the weekends. Each time we would break up, we never dated anyone else, but always found our way back to one another. We forged through the assumptions and judgement together. Sometimes it meant holding each other, telling each other how wonderful our life was. Other times, it meant yelling, screaming, and slamming doors, threatening to leave forever. Often, there was no in between. Our life together was one continuous rollercoaster consisting only of euphoria and despair. If Adam were any other man, introducing a child into our life might have been catastrophic, but Adam isn’t like any other man.
When June, and later Vivian, arrived, he dedicated his life to be the perfect father for them. Adam always said he was glad he had two girls because a boy would probably end up just like him. He treats those girls like they can do anything and be anything they want. He’s the one in their bedrooms every night reading them books and falling asleep on the edge of their beds. He taught them how to ride bikes and hook a worm by themselves. They’re still little, but he tries to teach them something every day, whether it’s how to put air in their bike tires or apologize after a fight. Howeve
r, I think he’s afraid they’ll eventually want to be with someone like him. He remembers what he was like when we were young, and I believe he’s hoping that day will never come. There’s a constant battle inside of him between the person he’s become and the person he used to be. Every so often, the old Adam rips through the man who has it together and rages and gnashes his teeth until he’s subdued by the upstanding one with everything to lose. He doesn’t let anyone see that person, especially his daughters. Everyone has their battles, and no one knows how hard each of us is fighting them.
Last year, in the days following our decision to stay together, we started planning—where did we want to go from there? It wasn’t so much a decision to stay together as realizing that neither of us left. We were both still there. We remained together, still married. Adam was working over 60 hours a week at the time. One way he decided to move forward was to cut back on his hours at work, which both of us agreed contributed to the worsening of our problems. He decided to make me and the girls a priority and spend more time with us as a family.
Adam never wanted to be a manager. He could have been—he was offered such positions multiple times over the years, but always declined because he didn’t want to manage anyone else or be responsible for their actions. Adam liked what he did—he went to work, worked hard all day, and came home at the end of the day. Basically, he liked being in control of himself and being able to guarantee his own work. At one time, Adam talked about becoming an independent contractor and starting his own business.