Because

by Jack A. Langedijk

  She tried her best to smile. “Okay...Okay, Bobby.”

  Monique looked at the nurse to indicate she was leaving. Bruno started walking back to the gurney to push it into the shower room.

  “Thank you for waiting and please, please take care of him,” Monique said.

  “Like he was my own father, I will. So, don’t you go worrying yourself,” Bruno said as he opened the door to push Robert inside. Monique stood there, watching Robert being wheeled into the room. Just as the door was ready to close, she pointed at her heart and waved at Robert, who smiled meekly. He did not return the romantic gesture. Instead, he gave her a thumbs-up as he passed through the door.

  Monique stood there for a long time in front of that door, listening hopefully for sounds of her Robert. Maybe he would talk to the nurse, say something about how he felt about what was going to happen. But those sounds never came. Instead, the only sounds she heard were those of water and the instructions Bruno gave about why he had to shave his leg. Then she looked at her hand and noticed she was still holding on to those brochures the doctor had given her. She held one up and looked at the smiling people modelling the latest artificial legs or arms. The smiles stirred an aching question inside her: How long does it take to start smiling again after something like this happens to you?

  Damn it! Damn it! she cursed as she lined her eyes in the hotel washroom. Nothing has changed since Robert’s accident. I’m still living with those same damn questions today. When do we start smiling again? She checked her watch and started to move with a little more purpose; she knew she needed to get back to the Leaning Tower of Pisa to see how Robert was doing, especially after her explosion.

  The door to the washroom burst open, followed by laughter. Monique felt suddenly panicked, so she snatched up her purse and scurried back into one of the toilet stalls. She still didn’t want anyone seeing her. Even though she was hidden behind the door she recognized the voices immediately—Kalinda and Dee, both from sales.

  “Hahaha. Oh Greg...I’d pay anything to see him on that basketball court today.”

  “Yeah, I bet he’d probably be playing in his suit and those precious shiny black shoes of his.”

  “It was good though—Greg’s speech, wasn’t it? You know, I never knew he grew up in Hong Kong, did you?”

  “Nope, me either. You know, I wasn’t really looking forward to this day but it’s been really fun so far.”

  “Yeah, and I guess Linkup’s head of sales has made it a little more fun for you.”

  “Ah, him! Well, Kalinda, don’t worry! Apparently he’s quite happily married and his wife just had twins.”

  “Twins? Ah, I’m sorry, that’s too bad. I was really hoping for you, Dee!”

  Monique leaned against the stall door, wishing she could enjoy that simple banter her co-workers were sharing. But just as she thought that, the happy sounds changed and shifted into those of concern.

  “But, oh man, that was so weird seeing Monique’s husband, wasn’t it?”

  Monique’s body suddenly became stiff.

  “He looked so different in that wheelchair...I almost didn’t recognize him. Have you seen him since the accident?”

  “No, I don’t think anyone has. Don’t you remember they were supposed to host the barbecue this summer and then Monique cancelled it at the last minute?”

  “Oh yeah, we didn’t have one this year, did we? I guess he wasn’t ready to face all of us yet.”

  “I don’t know what I’d do if that had happened to my husband.”

  “Your husband, Kalinda? Hell, I don’t know what I’d do if that ever happened to me! I don’t think I could handle that—losing both my legs!”

  “Does she ever talk to you about it?”

  “No, every time I ask her how things are, it’s always fine, she says, always fine. Well, you know Monique.”

  “Yeah, oh God, I felt so bad seeing him like that. But then he must have really recovered quickly...I mean it’s pretty impressive coming to do the talk today. I don’t think I could do that. Talk about climbing mountains if that had happened to me.”

  “It’s just sad! Did you see how he acted when we all said hello? He just looked so—I don’t know. I mean I remember him always telling these jokes and being so...I mean, that man, anytime you met him, he was always so...so up...you know, he just had that energy.”

  Monique felt a little short of breath. It was true she cancelled the barbecue, but it was completely her idea. Robert didn’t say anything. Monique made that decision without ever consulting him.

  “You know, I’ve always envied them—the way they were together. Don’t you remember how they’d always be at the parties and he’d always be holding her hand...Must be weird now, I mean, holding hands with him in that wheelchair.”

  “Yeah, well, one thing for sure, those two must have the most incredible relationship to deal with something like this. I mean, that’s a huge change, right? I just don’t know how Monique does it—coming to work every day and she never complains...She never even talks about it.”

  Monique put her hand on the door handle. She felt such a strong urge to bust through the door and tell Dee and Kalinda they didn’t know what the hell they were talking about.

  “And Monique never talks to you about it? I thought you guys were best friends.”

  “Yeah, we were, but she doesn’t talk to me much anymore...Anyway, come on, we better get back. And let’s not say anything because Monique and Robert are actually sitting with us. Oh Dee, and who knows, maybe Mr. Linkup has a brother who isn’t married with twins.”

  Monique didn’t burst through the door. She didn’t tell Dee and Kalinda they didn’t know what the hell they were talking about. She just listened and waited until the two women exited the washroom.

  Then she slowly opened the stall and walked to the sink, tossing her purse on the shelf, not caring that some the contents flew into the sink below. Mindlessly, she picked up the mascara to do her eyes. She couldn’t tell Kalinda and Dee that they didn’t know what they were talking about because they did—they were absolutely right! Monique didn’t talk. Monique always told everyone that things were fine, not to worry, everything was going great. And everyone bought into Monique’s disguise. Even today she was providing more evidence of how wonderful things were. Hey look everyone, my husband Robert is good enough that he is actually coming to do this talk today, despite everything that’s happened to him. Yes, everyone saw how the Sanchez’s had handled their adversity and triumphed!

  She looked in the mirror and a stranger was looking back at her. It was the same stranger who, for the last few months, had been wearing her clothes and was using her name. The stranger that told everyone things were fine. But at this moment, the stranger looked at her in an intense and accusing way. Monique leaned on the sink to get a closer look and then slowly started to rock rhythmically back and forth until she exploded with rage at the stranger. She ranted like a guilty person who desperately needed to purge themselves of every last detail of their crime so they could finally be at peace with all they had done.

  “This?” she spat. “This, how did we become this? This? It’s all a big goddamn guess! We’re living this one big, horrible guess!!!”

  She held on to the sink tighter and confessed to the stranger, “And there I am, there we all are, telling him he can do it. If anyone can handle this, Roberto can. Damn it! All I’ve been wanting to do is fix it...and...and...I can’t fix it! He’s lost his legs. He’s in a wheelchair...and what did I do? Oh, I tried fixing it, all right! I tried to do everything—I got that ramp, the doors, the bathroom. I changed the whole goddamn house!”

  Monique froze for a second. The rage ceased as another realization came to her. “Oh my God, everything’s changed but me! I just couldn’t...I just didn’t want to believe or accept that this had happened to us.”

  The moment she finished the word ‘us,’ Monique put her hand on the mirror and the stranger stopped rocking.

  Thi
s was exactly what happened after my father died!

  Monique was only fifteen when her father died after complications from heart surgery. Afterwards, Monique would never mention his name or talk about her father to her mother. Monique never asked how her mother felt because she didn’t know what would happen and what she would do. So Monique spent months avoiding any conversation about what happened to her father. No matter how many times her mother would casually mention him, Monique always found ways to escape the conversation. Until one day on her ride to school, her mother couldn’t take it anymore.

  “Monique, we have to stop this,” her mother said as she slid the key into the ignition.

  “What, Mom? What are you talking about?”

  “Honey,” Monique’s mother didn’t turn the car on, “it’s okay to talk about Daddy. It is.”

  Monique responded defensively, “I never said it wasn’t. Why you saying this now? Come on, Mom, drive. I’m going to be late!”

  “No, Monique, no! I can’t live like this anymore. We just go on every day, never saying anything...pretending like Daddy never existed.”

  “Ah, come on, Mom, we don’t do that. Please, can we go? I have that test today.”

  “No, Monique. No, honey. I’m sorry, but I can’t live like this anymore. I’m sorry, but we have to talk.”

  “Mom, we talk.”

  “About what, Monique? About what? How can we go on living if we just avoid talking about Daddy?”

  “Mom, please. I just...well okay. You know what? Maybe, maybe I just don’t want you to cry, okay? Or be upset or anything.”

  “But this is worse, honey. This is worse. Of course I’m going to cry. Of course you’re going to cry...We can’t just hide from what happened. What about us, honey?”

  Monique cried out, “But Daddy’s gone! We’re not us anymore, Mom. We’re not! He’s gone! He’s gone!”

  “But you’re still here, Monique, and I’m still here. We have to talk about it...We have to.”

  Monique threw off her seatbelt and crawled as close as she could into her mother’s waiting arms.

  “I know, baby, I know, everything’s changed...so I need my little girl now, more than ever.”

  Over the weekend, she and her mother just talked and cried. Cried and talked. They asked each other all the painful questions left unasked over the past months. Why? Why? Why? Yet with each aching question of ‘why,’ they discovered new hopeful ones: “How?” How can you...? How can I...? How can we...go on? And today, standing in front of that mirror, her mother’s voice came back to her loud and clear.

  “I don’t ever want to lose you, honey! No matter what happens, all the difficult things you are going to face...if you really love someone and they love you, don’t try to do it alone. Don’t hide from it. Talk about it! Once you stop talking, that’s when it’s over. How are you ever going to know anything if you don’t ask? We need to face it together. You have to have the courage to be able ask all the hardest questions. What’s stronger, honey? What’s more powerful? Love or fear?”

  Monique quickly opened her mouth to say “Love,” but then stopped herself and looked painfully stunned.

  Her mother laughed. “It’s not an easy question, is it? Do you know who asked me that question, Monique?”

  “Dad?”

  “No, and his answer would have been love too. But you did, honey. It seemed almost every day you came home asking your father and me those questions. Oh, you liked this friend but were afraid they didn’t like you. You loved volleyball but were afraid you might not be good enough. And that first boy you had a crush on but were afraid he thought you were too short for him...Remember?”

  Monique laughed with each memory.

  “And Monique, what did you do each of those times?”

  Monique spoke slowly. “I didn’t let what I was afraid of...be more important?”

  “Yes, honey. Never let fear be more powerful than who or what you love. Never be afraid to ask anything. Don’t let fear guide you, Monique.”

  Monique tried to convince herself that she let the questions remain unasked in order to protect Robert—to spare him of any pain or bad feelings. But it’s me, isn’t it? she thought. I’m the one afraid to face the truth—afraid to face the answers to those questions—just like I did with my mother. Oh God! Why do we keep forgetting the things we learn?

  There were so many questions alive in her now. Why did I never ask him why he didn’t call that night before his operation? Or, when he said he needed some time to be alone, why did I never ask when that alone time was going to be over? How long did he still need to be alone? What’s it like to lose your legs? How does it feel in that chair? When is Roberto Sanchez going to be fixed? When is everything going to go back to normal? The questions started coming fast and furious, screaming inside her. What is normal? And Robert, do you still want me? Desire me? Need me? Love me? Are we still “us”? And how did everything change into this? Will we ever get over this?

  Focusing on the word “this” produced another question that echoed so loudly inside her that it caused her to drop her mascara brush into the sink. The brush bounced around, making little, black, dotted smudges all over the white porcelain. She stared down hard at the odd dark marks, looking at them as if they formed some kind of secret code she had been trying to crack for years. Then, in an almost instinctive effort to clean the sink, she found herself putting her finger on one black mark and then connecting it to another mark until they all formed the word “this” in the sink.

  Monique suddenly turned away from the mirror. She bent over, leaned on her knees and shook her head with a wild sound. “Ha...well then...I just have to ask! We have to talk about this because this doesn’t work. Because this doesn’t work!”

  She turned back and the moment Monique looked into the mirror, the stranger vanished. I don’t know anything. I really don’t know anything at all. Is it really that simple? she wondered. Is it really true that if you don’t simply ask then you’ll just never know? So much has changed and we never, ever talk about it! No...I never talk about it! I want to stop guessing. I want to just talk. I want to start making plans again- I want to smile again- I just want to hold hands...I want to be us again.

  The glorious new feeling of that wanting caused her whole body to rise and straighten. Suddenly, she felt a smile coming on. She felt that smile coming from deep within her. The smile was in her legs, in her chest. She could even feel it in her fingers! She could now taste that smile as it spread across her face. She smiled—hope.

  Monique reached over across the counter, pulled a couple of tissues from the box and then wiped the sink clean. It wasn’t as triumphant as she had wished because she didn’t wipe the word “this” away in one fell swoop. But after a couple of swipes and slight twirls of her hand, the sink was restored to its former shining white sparkle.

  Can I...Can we?

  Yes, she thought, yes, I can change ‘this.’ I know we can change this! She laughed to herself out loud. What good is any question if it is not asked? She laughed at herself even louder. How could I not have seen this? She looked back in the mirror. Because...because you were afraid! Don’t let fear guide you!

  Monique felt roused and filled with a determination to face the truth and the consequences of those questions. She quickly opened her mouth and traced her lips with a Tuscan red lipstick. She reached behind her head and pulled out the beautiful African pearl hair clip that held her hair in place. She shook her head until her hair fell evenly on her shoulders. After all that crying, she decided that it would be best to hide her face a bit. She gathered all her cosmetics and put them in her purse. On her way out the door, she picked up each stained Kleenex like a chicken pecking at its food, forcefully balled them up in one hand and finally, like any good basketball player would, tossed them a good eight feet across the room right into the trashcan.

  She wasn’t sure what she was going to say to Robert. She had no idea where to start or what question she would
ask him first. All she knew was that if they had any chance at being an “us” again, she had to stop this guessing. Come hell or high water, they were going to start talking and listening to each other. And if it was over, at least she would know it was over!

  33. PRESENT DAY – AT THE HOTEL

  Monique flung the washroom door open and almost ran down the hall to the Leaning Tower of Pisa. With each step, a new confidence grew inside her and a smile of determination started to blossom on her face. Why, why had she been so afraid to talk to her husband? Well, today it all would change. She decided that even if Robert didn’t want to speak at her company’s event, it would be okay, she would understand and she would do it herself. Heck, she thought, I put that whole talk together in the first place—I know it by heart!

  As she opened the doors to the Leaning Tower of Pisa, she saw everyone was seated and eating. The room had a wonderful serenity to it and matched the mood of Pachelbel’s Canon in D Major, which was drifting from the sound system.

  “Hey, Monique, over here!” Lou called out to her, waving his hand in the air. “Sorry, but you’re eating with us lowlifes.” A couple of laughs came from the table.

  Monique quickly glanced toward the stage. She couldn’t see Robert. ‘Good,’ she thought, ‘he must still be behind the curtain.’ She quickly walked over to the table and saw that there were two empty places for her and Robert. She stood behind one of the empty chairs as Lou made the introductions.

  “Monique, this is Norman who is...No, no, don’t tell me...Ah, yes, the network architect, and Bettina, the...oh my God, what was it? Oh yeah, telecommunications specialist, both at Linkup, and over here we have Metronome’s whiz kids, the newly appointed application engineers, Mickey and Minnie...Okay, okay...Manuel and Margarita.”

  Everyone smiled, waved or said hello to Monique as Lou went through their names.

  “And everyone, this is Monique Sanchez, Elevation’s senior and by that I don’t mean age. She’s actually our chief communications older person...ha ha! Oh, but seriously, our guest speaker today is Monique’s husband. He...oh, I can’t remember...What did he do again, Monique? Didn’t he climb up some little hill?”