A Life Well-Hidden

by Emily Nealis

  “It’s not like you have anything to hide.” I sneered, furious with him for being so difficult and, if I was being honest, pushing a few of his buttons in the process. His eyes shifted to me, with a look I hadn’t seen since before June was born. It was the same look he gave me during one of our worst fights. I don’t even remember what I said to him, but when he looked at me, the thought crossed my mind that he might kill me. Adam looked at me the same way as we wound through the county roads toward Lexington. After glaring at one another just long enough to be uncomfortable, Adam turned his head back toward the road.

  “You’ll want to rethink that one too.” He spoke in a calm but ominous tone. He wasn’t prone to violent outbursts—not anymore at least. I never told him or anyone else, but I don’t think seeing a therapist improved the way he dealt with anger. He didn’t lash out impulsively when he was angry. Instead, he let it simmer until he was ready to take action. He could be cold and calculated. Just like everything else, he had to be in control. Adam was the kind of person who would give the shirt off his back to help someone in need. However, for all the love he could give, he could give just as much hatred and malice. After being with him so long, I knew how he operated. He tried to find weaknesses and use them to his advantage. But I knew this, so I brushed it off whenever he tried to be intimidating.

  I exhaled and looked away, completely furious with Adam’s unreasonable attitude. Watching the trees whip past the windows, I remembered Carolyn having a meltdown in my kitchen, sobbing about my brother and his own possessiveness over his phone. Even though I thought Carolyn was being irrational, I felt something planted itself deep inside my psyche that evening she came over to my house. I felt it sprout and break through the soil that afternoon when I smelled the perfume in Adam’s truck. I almost forgot about Carolyn’s carefully constructed list of suspicious behavior until the moment Adam and I began arguing about how to order cupcakes for the barbecue. Carolyn’s worries seeped into my brain and slowly dug their long, razor sharp claws into me all the way to my parents’ house.

  I ordered the cupcakes from my parents’ house in under 10 minutes. They would be ready to pick up in a half hour. However, my irritation with Adam and his bizarre reaction had yet to dissipate. When I stepped through the sliding glass door onto the brick patio, I couldn’t help but notice how my parents’ backyard was another perfect moment, a snapshot of my perfect life. I still counted myself lucky, fortunate to have the life I did with healthy children and financial stability. However, I was strangely amused by the private lives of each person in that backyard, concealing true feelings from one another, harboring suspicion and jealousy. Initially, I only thought of Carolyn, who stood on the patio next to Adam and my mom, sipping from a red plastic cup. After a while, I realized I could also be describing myself, but I didn’t want to admit that. I wasn’t supposed to be that person, questioning her husband like Carolyn was.

  I don’t know whether I was trying to calm my own fears or begin my own investigation for answers that I wasn’t sure I wanted, but I decided to press my brother for information., although I wasn’t sure what information I was looking for. I figured it would come to me when I opened my mouth. I started across the lawn toward the wooden playset on the far side of the yard. Travis was standing at the end of the monkey bars, talking to June as she swung toward him, arm over arm, the sweat on her forehead causing her bangs to stick to her skin. I reached in my jeans pocket and fished out an extra hair tie. After she dropped from the monkey bars, I motioned for her to come to me.

  As I pulled June’s hair back into a ponytail, as best I could with a hyper ten-year-old, I asked Travis when he was going to come out to the farm to visit. He told me he hoped to make it out to our house soon, making a point to say that he missed the girls and hanging out with us. You should, I thought to myself as he lifted Vivian in the air, tossing her over his shoulder as she giggled uncontrollably, we used to be your sanctuary—your escape from life. Travis lowered Vivian from his shoulder into the grass, flipping her right side up as she cackled with excitement. She rose from the ground, brushing her blonde hair out of her eyes and scanned the yard for her sister, launching herself from the patch of clover at our feet across the yard. I realized Travis and I were alone, out of earshot from everyone else clustered by the table and grill on the patio.

  “Travis, can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.” He replied, brushing his hands off on his shorts. He reached into his pocket and retrieved his sunglasses. As I expected, I had no idea what was about to come out of my mouth. I watched the people moving over the patio, rearranging, but none of them leaving the area to join us. I looked back at Travis and decided to start talking.

  “I know you and Adam tell each other everything—or at least you used to. I don’t know how much you talk anymore, but I need to know if he’s said anything to you.”

  “About what?” Travis cocked his head in curiosity.

  “About whether he’s been seeing anyone else.” I blurted out the words, no longer caring about being tactful. I was talking to my little brother, who lacked more tact than anyone I knew, so what would he care? It was better to be direct. My only hope was that he didn’t go blab our conversation to anyone else, especially Adam.

  “What do you mean, ‘seeing anyone else’?” Travis didn’t flinch but continued to speak in the same calm voice he had since we began talking. I immediately regretted that he decided to put on sunglasses. There was no way for me to see his eyes, as they hid any sort of reaction he had to what I was saying. I glanced back at Adam and Carolyn, standing at the corner of the patio, deep in conversation.

  “I mean, has he told you anything about any other woman he’s been talking to, anyone he’s seen, or anyone who’s been trying to contact him.” Travis was silent for a few moments, completely still except for his jaw moving as he chewed his spearmint gum. He surprised me by removing his sunglasses and hooking them into the collar of his shirt. His gaze drifted across the lawn at Adam and Carolyn, and then back to me.

  “Um…” Travis made the mistake of opening his mouth to speak and then deciding better of it, gazing off into the distance to decide how to proceed. My hand flew up to my chest, pointing a finger at him. I spoke softly.

  “Um, what?”

  “Nothing,” Travis shook his head, furrowing his brow, “I don’t know what I was going to say.” I turned my head slightly, narrowing my eyes, peering at him the way I had countless times when we were kids and he was telling me an outrageous lie. He’d always been such a bad liar.

  “You were going to say something, what was it?”

  Travis composed himself and any evidence of his trepidation disappeared. He scoffed, his confused expression breaking into a smile. He now looked more intrigued than disturbed by my questions.

  “What are you asking me, if Adam’s cheating on you?” The normal, snobby, little brother returned. Travis seemed unconcerned by the subject matter, and more annoyed in general that I was asking him questions about Adam at all. Even though they didn’t speak nearly as often as they used to, it was becoming clear that Travis still held a certain degree of loyalty to Adam. He scoffed, cracking a smile.

  “With who?”

  “If I knew, I wouldn’t be asking.” I hissed through my teeth. This was a lie, but there’s no way I would tell Travis that. After realizing it was going to be more trouble than it was worth to extract any useful information from him, I wasn’t about to give him any unnecessary details. Plus, I didn’t have any concrete proof of anything. I had my own sensory perception, but a smell that would inevitably disappear after a few days was hardly anything to get cocky about. I knew there was something going on, but I had nothing to show for it right then. Travis shrugged, focusing on everyone else gathered on the patio across the lawn.

  “I also haven’t talked to Adam in a while, so it’s not like I would know what he’s been up to anyway.”

  My brow furrowed and my face distorted as I tried to decide
whether he was lying or just insane. Adam had been at Travis’s house only days ago, on the previous Saturday after he returned from his business trip to Georgia—something about an air conditioner.

  “What are you talking about? Adam was just at your house last week.” I peered at Travis, studying his facial expressions for any sign of dishonesty.

  “What?” He was oblivious, acting like I was speaking a completely different language. I was getting impatient, watching out of the corner of my eye for anyone who might have decided to cross the yard and join us.

  “I swear to God, Travis, you need to start making sense right now. Was Adam at your house last week or not?” Realizing that he’d potentially revealed too much, Travis attempted to abandon the conversation altogether.

  “I think you need to calm the fuck down, have a drink or something.” He rolled his eyes and started across the lawn. Before he could take a step, I blocked his path.

  “Don’t make me cause a scene, Travis.”

  He raised his eyebrows, and after a moment, he leaned back against the chain link fence. Once again, he turned into the smug Travis who thought he could get away with anything.

  “A scene? Like one where everyone finds out you’re interrogating me about whether Adam’s cheating on you?”

  “This isn’t an interrogation.” I lowered my head, “And if you want people to find out about something, you should probably be more concerned about your own wife who thinks you’re running around on her.”

  At first, I didn’t know whether Travis heard what I said. It was as though he froze, unable to comprehend what was happening. I didn’t care what I said to him, whatever made him tell me what I wanted to know. We stared at one another for a few moments, evaluating one another, deciding our next move. I could see the muscles around his jaw moving beneath his skin, contracting with adrenaline. He would try to get out of this, but I was standing in front of him, blocking his escape. He had to give me an answer—a real one.

  “She knows about Tara-Lynn.” I softened my voice, in an effort to cut the tension. Travis squinted at me, his mouth falling open as though he were going to speak, but no sound came out.

  “Yeah, everyone knows about Tara-Lynn. We were together for a long time, who cares?”

  “Carolyn knows that you’re still talking to her.” I raised my eyebrows, frustrated by his convenient ignorance. He couldn’t be that dense, but he was a person with something to hide. He was not about to tell me anything without a fair amount of prying. Travis continued to stare at me, his mouth still half open. As we studied one another, his expression gradually transformed into one of skepticism and malice. He leaned in toward me.

  “This is sick,” He lowered his voice, almost to a whisper, “This is so fucked up.” Travis looked around, making sure we were still alone in the corner of the yard. He ran a hand through his hair and stepped around me, nudging my arm aside with his elbow.

  “Get a grip, Haley.” Travis muttered as he stalked past me, leaving me to ponder whether I’d made a mistake in speaking to him at all. It was probably a mistake to bring up Carolyn and Tara-Lynn, but I was out of options. I didn’t have some secret arsenal of knowledge to bargain with Travis. Adam was the only person, if anyone, who had that kind of knowledge. Adam was also the only one who could really answer my questions. The only problem was that there was no other option; I would have to ask him myself.

  Adam does not scare easily. The fact that I only possessed speculation rather than any concrete proof regarding my suspicions didn’t help the situation. However, the more I thought about the possibility that Adam was hiding something, the angrier I became. That is one thing he and I have in common; short tempers and no fear in expressing it. I would never break a car window and drag someone through it, like Adam would, but my ability to keep calm was fading rapidly. I knew I was right. I felt it in my gut; Adam was hiding something—or someone—from me.

  We arrived home by six with a box of leftovers, two less children, and an increased level of tension. I was grateful when my parents offered to keep the girls for the night, as they were having so much fun playing at their grandparents’ house. I didn’t argue, as it was becoming more and more difficult to hide the emotions that were simmering beneath my skin. Adam appeared comfortable, even relaxed. I, on the other hand, spent the last 45 minutes in the passenger seat of the truck, simmering in a silent rage. The idea that I was sitting in the same seat some other woman had potentially been sitting in, her perfume soaking into the fabric, filled me with disgust. I went back and forth between hatred and negotiating with myself like a manic; striking bargains and trying to convince myself I was mistaken—that I had to be wrong. Which is why, when Adam made an innocent comment about needing to deep clean his truck with all the dirt tracked in by him and the girls, I couldn’t contain my disdain any longer.

  “Maybe you should have sprung for the leather seats if you didn’t want them getting dirty.” Or if you were planning on turning into a philandering bastard. The dimples in his cheeks and the creases at the corners of his eyes relaxed as soon as it came out of my mouth. It wasn’t so much what I said, but the way I said it. My acidic tone was not lost on him, and he immediately became silent, sizing me up like he usually does in such situations.

  “What’s your problem?” He asked, glancing between me and the road. I didn’t look at him, only gazed out the window, trying to calm myself and breathe evenly. Before I could answer, we turned left into the driveway.

  “You have cloth seats, Adam, they gather dust and grime,” I turned my head and glared at him, “Things stick to them, things you can’t hide.”

  The truck came to a stop at the edge of the garage. Adam threw the gear shift into park and leaned against the steering wheel staring at me. His eyes narrowed as he tried to decipher the meaning behind my words. To me, it seemed clear, but it was probably in his best interest to act oblivious.

  “Is there something you really want to have said here?” His tone immediately switched to one I recognized; the same one he used when he warned the girls to behave. This was the tone he used when he wanted to intimidate someone, to stop conflict dead in its tracks. But I knew this, and even though it worked in the past, this time I ignored it.

  “I smelled the perfume on the seat of your truck, Adam. This seat!” I pounded my fist on the plush fabric under my thigh, “I know who’s been in your vehicle!”

  Adam looked at the seat and then at me. He was silent, mulling over how to respond to my accusation. In an eerie sense of déjà vu, he looked at me the same way Travis had, with confusion and skepticism. Finally, Adam broke the silence.

  “What the hell are you talking about?” He exclaimed, staring at me, waiting for an answer. After another minute of silence, Adam unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the driver’s side door. He shrugged, collecting his phone and sunglasses from the center console.

  “I don’t know what’s wrong with you today, but I’m not going to sit here and try to read your mind and argue about nothing.” He stepped out of the truck and slammed the door, leaving me inside the cab. I knew it wouldn’t be that easy. As I found out with Travis, it would take much more effort to get any information from Adam, much less the information I wanted. I vacated the truck and followed him through the garage and into the side door leading to the kitchen. I threw my purse onto the bar top counter, my keys and a tube of Chapstick clattering onto the granite.

  “I want you to tell me the truth,” I called after him, “I want you to tell me who’s been in your truck.”

  “Haley, do you know how many people ride in my truck on any given day?” Adam stopped in the middle of the living room and turned around, “Here’s what you can do—why don’t you call up every one of my female colleagues and ask them what perfume they wear? Then, you can ask them which days they rode in my truck to a job site, or a meeting, or to lunch and you can tell them why you’re asking,” Adam sneered, “See how that works out.”

  On any other day, his sarcasm
might have deterred me. However, at that moment I was fighting for my marriage and not even Adam’s flippant attitude could make me deviate from that. Even if he was going to ignore the situation, I was not.

  “Whatever you’re doing, you need to think real hard about whether you want to keep doing it.” I pointed my finger at him from the kitchen, the volume of my voice rising with each word, “You’re such a narcissist! Have you forgotten you have a wife and two kids and responsibilities here at home?”