A Life Well-Hidden

by Emily Nealis

  Since he’d been gone for a week, Adam decided to take it easy rather than diving into his normal routine of activity around the farm. Instead, we spent the morning on the front porch swing and watched the girls racing their bikes down the driveway. I was on my second mug of tea when I remembered I promised Carolyn I would ask Adam about her nagging suspicion. Part of me was embarrassed by the thought of even mentioning our conversation, but over the course of a few days, another part of me had become morbidly curious whether Carolyn’s suspicions were warranted.

  “Have you talked to Travis lately?”

  Adam shook his head, finishing the rest of the coffee in his mug.

  “I haven’t spoken to Travis since we saw them at the party.”

  “Carolyn thinks he’s talking to someone else.”

  June jumped off her bike, flipping out the kickstand. Leaving it at the edge of the driveway, she ran into the grass toward the dogwood tree between the garden and the horse fence. Vivian jumped off her bike while it was still moving. It crashed into the ground. She ran after June, leaving it laying in the dewy grass.

  “Like who?”

  “Like another woman.” I caught myself suppressing laughter at my next statement, “She thinks he’s talking to Tara-Lynn.” It wasn’t funny, but the whole thing seemed so ridiculous.

  “Tara-Lynn, huh?” Adam watched June begin to scale the branches of the dogwood.

  “Carolyn came over earlier in the week and stayed the night. She was really upset. She got really drunk and started crying about how Travis is acting like a jerk. She’s convinced there might really be something going on. Has Travis said anything to you?”

  “Hey—Tara-Lynn…Caro-lyn?” Adam chuckled at the uncanny rhyme of their names. I rolled my eyes, stifling my own smile.

  “Stop!” I smacked his arm, “This is serious!”

  “Serious, my ass. That boy can’t do anything but get in his own way.” Adam set his coffee mug down on the wrought iron side table and stretched his arms up over his head.

  “Do you think he’s talking to someone else?”

  Adam lowered his arms and leaned back, resting them on the back of the porch swing. He rested one hand on my left shoulder blade, keeping his eyes on June and Vivian, climbing higher into the tree.

  “He talked to Tara-Lynn a couple of times last year.”

  I blinked. Having not anticipated that revelation, I just sat there in silence. Adam glanced at me and then back to the girls in the distance. I had a feeling that Travis never got over Tara-Lynn, but the thought of him doing anything about it was so ridiculous, I never thought it might be true. How could he be so stupid? How could he have proposed to Carolyn, all the while trying to reconnect with the woman who broke his heart all those years ago?

  “What?” I croaked, swallowing a mouthful of tea.

  “I know he talked to her a couple of times last year, that’s about it.” Adam shrugged, as though it were an afterthought. I stared at the side of Adam’s face, a look of bewilderment still plastered across my face.

  “He’s talking to Tara-Lynn?”

  “Haley, I don’t know if he still is.” Adam glanced at me sideways in response to my over-eagerness, “But I doubt it. That girl learned her lesson the first time. From what he said, it sounded like she just blew him off.” Adam grinned, shaking his head, “He’s either too slow or too embarrassed to admit it, but she was just stringing him along.”

  “I can’t believe him. That—“ I lowered my voice to a sharp hiss so the girls wouldn’t hear me, “—fucking asshole.” As soon as I said it, I didn’t know why I bothered. It wasn’t like they hadn’t ever heard their mom and dad curse before. I’d already been outed once by Vivian when June made her angry and she thrust both her fists into the air, her middle fingers standing at attention at June’s back as she walked away. I suppose that’s what happens when your kids are home with you and your husband makes you angry; they learn how to curse from you rather than other kids.

  “Well,” Adam pushed the swing back and forth, “You need to calm down and probably keep that to yourself. I told you, that was last year and I haven’t spoken to him about it since then. There’s probably nothing to tell.”

  Adam had a point. Did I really want to get that involved in Carolyn and Travis’s relationship problems? I didn’t want that many details from Carolyn in the first place. If I can help someone, I will—especially my family—but I didn’t ask her to drink all the wine and divulge her insecurities and suspicions in the middle of my living room.

  I remembered how quickly Carolyn composed herself that night after completely melting down. Yes, she came unglued and cried for a while, but it was still more subdued than I’d anticipated. It was as though she’d already come to terms with the idea of her husband reaching out to another woman. And if Travis wasn’t speaking to Tara-Lynn anymore, what was he doing now? But even if Travis were engaged in some illicit relationship, there was nothing to indicate that except for Carolyn’s suspicion. And that was the absolute truth--suspicion alone means nothing.

  Not having any desire whatsoever to entertain the idea that Travis was still engaged in extra-curricular relationships or deal with Carolyn’s associated self-destruction, I thought it was the perfect time to change the subject.

  “Have you thought any more about the business idea?”

  “A little bit.”

  “And?”

  Adam kept watching the girls swinging through the branches of the tree. He bit his lip and shrugged. I was taken aback by the aloofness of his response. I assumed he would immediately go into detail about a plan. I thought he would have a plan because that’s what Adam does—he makes plans and knows exactly what he’s going to do to make something happen. But this time was different. This time, he said nothing at all.

  “You sounded excited about it before, but now you don’t sound so sure.”

  “I don’t know,” I tried to read Adam’s face, but he appeared nothing but relaxed, “there was a reason I stopped taking on so many side jobs. I let my work and my personal goals get in the way of what mattered, like spending time with the girls. Things weren’t good. I was busy and gone all the time. I wasn’t even getting home in time to see them at night.” Adam shook his head, “Plus, you and I were always fighting. I don’t want that to happen again.”

  I should have been flattered. I should have been happy that my husband was prioritizing his wife and daughters. Instead, I was annoyed, irritated with Adam’s change of heart. The disappointment was setting in that this might be just something else that I began but did not finish. Only, this time, it never actually began, but only remained a nice idea that never materialized. Irritation was quickly turning to anger. It was apparent that I’d spent months looking forward to an idea that he already turned into an afterthought.

  “But this is something you would be doing with your family. This time it would be completely different. This time, I would be helping you and we would be doing it together.”

  “If I were going to start working for myself full-time, we would need to be in a better financial position.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I just bought that truck last year and your vehicle isn’t even paid off yet. I’d have to put a lot of money into start-up for things like equipment, modifying my truck, insurance, things like that.”

  “It’s only a couple of car payments.” Adam’s truck was brand new, but I drove an eight-year-old SUV. It wasn’t like we were in massive debt or strapped for cash. Adam made over eighty thousand dollars a year and, even with two kids, we lived comfortably. I thought working for himself would have been Adam’s dream. He wouldn’t have to answer to anyone else and his success would depend on his own work ethic and no one else’s.

  “It sounds like you’re just looking for an excuse not to.”

  This got Adam’s attention. He snapped his neck in my direction. I was so frustrated with him, I didn’t bother thinking about what I was saying before I said it.
But I didn’t care, I meant what I said this time. Adam was never one to make excuses for anything; if he didn’t want to do something, he would say so. Now, however, he was making a statement completely uncharacteristic for him and I had no idea why.

  “Oh, really? Tell me about the last business you started.” Sarcasm poured from his mouth, calm and thick, “Since you have some insight about this that I don’t, why don’t you tell me exactly what I need to do and how to do it.”

  There was no sense in arguing with him and I knew that. He was right, I didn’t know exactly what he would have to do to make this a reality. I should have known this discussion would require more preparation on my part, like usual. Once Adam made up his mind about something, he was going to do it his way. Usually, I would agree with him. After all, there was a reason we had the life we did. When I stood by Adam, we never went wrong, and we always came out on top. But there was something different about this time. This time, I felt like he was just stalling, which was so not him. Adam didn’t just change his mind on a whim. If he didn’t want to start his own business, he would have just said so when we first discussed it months ago. Then again, I had also become personally invested in the idea. I had ulterior motives—personal ones that included a professional future for myself. Without this business venture, Adam still had his job, but any plans I had were obliterated.

  “Haley, I don’t know what you want me to say. I’m not doing it right now. It’s not the right time.”

  I wanted to yell, stomp my foot on the concrete of the porch, and tell Adam he was ruining everything, but I didn’t. I wanted answers. When, exactly, was the right time?

  “What am I supposed to do now?”

  “What do you mean, what are you supposed to do?” Adam looked amused, curious what I meant by this. Of course, it wouldn’t have occurred to him that starting a business meant anything to me. I stayed home and took care of our home and our kids for the better part of a decade and, as far as Adam was concerned, that’s what I did and never indicated I wanted anything to the contrary.

  “I want to do something else besides stay home, Adam.”

  “So, it’s my job to find you something to do? Is that why you’re angry?”

  I didn’t answer him. I looked away, staring out across the garden.

  “I’m not arguing with you about this, Haley. If this life isn’t good enough for you, then I don’t know what to say. I’m not holding you back from finding something else to do.” I wasn’t sure how to interpret his statement. He could have been commenting on my desire to find a purpose larger than my current daily life. However, he could have been commenting on our life as a whole. He could have been insinuating that I was dissatisfied with the life he provided me and how hard he worked for our family. This was how he argued. Adam was good with words in this way; he could manipulate the conversation and immediately escalate the situation. I was never sure whether he meant it or just twisted words around to win an argument. Either way, I didn’t usually have the patience to go head to head with him.

  Adam looked at his watch and stood up, “I have to get going.”

  “Where?” I couldn’t imagine where he had to hurry off to on a Saturday morning, especially right after he returned from a week-long trip.

  “I need to drop off some client paperwork at the office since I got back late last night. After that, I told Travis I’d run over and take a look at their condenser.”

  Adam stepped off the porch into the grass. He started across the grass toward the tree where June and Vivian were weaving in and out of the branches, balancing on the top rail of the horse fence.

  And, like that, the conversation was over.

  After Adam returned home that day, it was as though nothing had happened. He was completely normal, engaged in his routine around the farm. Days passed, then weeks, and the discussion about Adam becoming self-employed faded into obscurity. I could have kept bringing it up, pressing him to make the decision I wanted, but I knew that was an exercise in futility. It would only make him angry, and I didn’t know if I was ready for that fight. Everything had been going so well, so I decided to suppress my disappointment for the time being. There was all the time in the world for him to change his mind.

  In the meantime, life continued with running the farm, keeping up with two active girls, and coordinating social events with the various members of our family scattered all over town. If it wasn’t sleepovers with cousins, it was finally giving my mom an answer about when we could come to their house for a barbecue. I knew she wasn’t worried about whether my family could attend; it was more so making sure Travis and Carolyn could attend. The two of them were like a couple of sasquatches—sightings were few and far between. However, this was more accurate regarding Travis than Carolyn, evident by her recent meltdown in my living room.

  Although it happened weeks ago, I hadn’t forgotten what Carolyn said about Travis, and subsequently, what Adam confirmed. The change in Travis’s behavior, his admission to Adam that he contacted Tara-Lynn last year, all of it was convincing evidence that maybe Carolyn was right. I sincerely hoped I was wrong; even though Carolyn had her moments, I still loved her and I was glad she married Travis. She was one of the only people who could get away with dressing him down and telling him the things no one else wanted to. The girls still loved seeing him, and he was so great with them, so it was best if I could avoid going off on him for his idiotic behavior.

  One Sunday, a couple of hours before we were expected at my parents’ house for Sunday lunch, I hurried outside between the pans of macaroni and cheese in the oven to put Vivian’s new booster seat in the backseat of Adam’s truck. You’d think we were strapping an alligator in it as beat up as her old one was, with all the scratches and gouges it incurred. However, the four of us did not ride in Adam’s truck as often as they rode in my SUV, so maybe this one would survive until she grew enough that she no longer needed it. Leaning against the back of the passenger seat, I secured the booster by the seatbelts, tugging on it from all angles to make sure it was installed properly. It was amazing how during the first few years of June’s life, I obsessed about whether a car seat was properly installed, with good reason, of course. But after so many years and so many types of car seats and booster seats, now I threw it in, tugged on it violently, and knew it was properly secured based on a kind of muscle memory only mothers have.

  As I turned to pull myself out of the crouched position, my fingers wrapped around the passenger side headrest, I paused. Resting my nose against the upholstery of the headrest, something seemed familiar. They say smell is the sense closest linked to memory, and what I smelled was triggering a memory. I just couldn’t remember which memory. The fabric smelled sweet, slightly floral, but sharp. It was distinct, and no mistaking it was there. The sweet aroma of the perfume itself wasn’t concerning, the concerning part was that I didn’t know where it came from.

  With each step back to the house, I racked my brain, trying to remember. The presence of something that didn’t belong gnawed at me. I couldn’t remember. I knew that goddamn fragrance, but I had no idea where from. And why was it all over the passenger seat of Adam’s truck? When was the last time I rode in his truck? It was only a few days ago. We took the girls to get pizza. I would have definitely noticed it then, but it wasn’t there. I knew it wasn’t there. I’m not crazy; it wasn’t there then, but it’s there now. When I reached the porch, it dawned on me that Adam even cleaned out the inside of his truck after we last rode in it together. He spent hours in the driveway, washing it, throwing away garbage, and vacuuming the inside.