In Between Dreams

by Iman Verjee

  ‘You could have told me earlier, Gina.’

  ‘When? When you left me? When I left and didn’t hear from you, not even once, to make sure I was okay?’

  ‘I didn’t think you wanted me to.’

  She scoffed. ‘That’s a lie.’ A bitter smile tiptoed across her face. ‘How did Marienne take the news?’

  He felt a sharp stab of guilt cramp at his side. He remembered the shock in her eyes when he told her about the baby, too taken aback by the news himself to be anything but blunt. He remembered the falling of her pretty face, but most of all it was her outrageous jealousy that stuck with him the most.

  She had surprised him by making breakfast that morning, thick wafts of bacon and coffee wrapping around him like a warm glove that made him smile and rush down the stairs. She was waiting, just as he remembered she used to, by his chair in her cooking apron, her hair tied loosely back. She looked young and careless again, smiling sweetly at him as he came through the door. Spatula in hand, she moved back toward the spitting frying pan. He sat down and watched as she expertly scooped up the egg without breaking it, placing it onto a piece of toast before bringing it to him. As she put it down, she ruffled his hair and said, ‘Good morning, darling.’

  ‘Good morning.’ He took her hand and kissed her wrist before she sat down beside him. ‘It looks great.’

  ‘I haven’t made you breakfast in a while, have I?’ She rubbed his arm and smiled again before picking up the newspaper and starting to read it. His heart broke open with joy and the blood flooded into it.

  He took a bite, chewed slowly and let the flavors burst in his mouth. The sun shone through the kitchen window and the house seemed at peace. She put the newspaper down.

  ‘I want to apologize,’ she said. ‘I know I’ve been acting a little crazy,’ she hesitated and wrapped her fingers around his. ‘It’s been hard on you, and I’m sorry, but it’s going to stop.’ She swallowed. ‘I’ve got to move on with my life now.’

  ‘I’ll be here.’

  ‘I know.’ She nodded and tears sprang to her eyes. She laughed; part out of sorrow but he also saw how much she loved him. ‘I know that if I have you, I can get through anything.’

  He wanted to tell her so much then; it was the most he had ever felt for her, but the high ring of the phone interrupted them from the living room. He was up before Marienne, pushing her down into the chair.

  ‘I’ll get it—you relax.’ He walked out of the kitchen, his steps light and easy. He picked up the receiver. ‘Hello?’ He wasn’t prepared for the loud, panicked voice on the other end and he had to hold the telephone away from his ear.

  ‘James? Hello? Can you hear me?’

  ‘Who is this?’ He was tempted to put the phone down, annoyed at the interruption and eager to get back to his wife.

  ‘It’s Gina.’

  ‘Gina?’ His voice dropped and he spoke in a whisper, craning his neck to look back into the kitchen. Marienne was still reading so he knew she hadn’t heard him; the slight shout as he said the name. He turned back to the phone and hissed, ‘Why are you calling me?’

  ‘I need you to come to the hospital.’ She spoke quickly, breathless, as if it were too much of an effort for her to speak. ‘Not Stolleri. The one in the city.’ She told him the name and asked if he knew where it was.

  ‘I do,’ he said. ‘But why do you need me to come? What’s going on?’

  ‘I’m having your baby.’

  The ground dropped from under his feet and he had a strange sensation of falling forward even though he was standing still.

  ‘What did you say?’ He was angry now and the anger rolled out of him, wrapped in fear. ‘Is this some kind of sick joke?’

  ‘No, it’s not.’ There was something in her voice, a silver ring of victory, of having finally got her revenge on him for leaving her so selfishly, that made him sure she was telling the truth.

  ‘I don’t understand.’ His tongue was numb and his eyes blurred so that all he saw was the white of the wall bleeding into the beige carpet, creating strange illusions and patterns that jumped out and laughed at him.

  ‘Just get to the hospital and I’ll explain it all. I just need someone with me.’ When he didn’t answer, she said, pleadingly, ‘Please, James.’

  ‘I’ll be there as soon as I can.’ He couldn’t believe he was saying those words to her but he knew he had to go. He had to get her off the phone first, figure out what he was going to say to Marienne.

  She hung up and he stayed rooted to the spot, the receiver growing warm from his sweating palms. A peculiar tickling had started up around the corner of his eyes, making them shake from the inside. It spread downward, filling his cheekbones and around his jaw, locking it painfully in place. A cold fear sneaked down his throat and grew hot in his body, melting at his knees so that he fell to the stairs, the phone dropping beside him. His chest was unbearably itchy with a million, prickly questions and he took short, half-breaths that never made it to his lungs. He was sure his heart would stop beating and that he would die and the thought came as a relief. When Marienne called out to him, she sounded distorted and far away and he had a scary sensation of leaking outside himself. Then she appeared and he heard her say his name from the doorway, louder and more anxious, before he felt the cool tips of her fingers at the base of his neck, cradling his head. His body jerked at her touch and then began to relax.

  ‘Breathe honey, just breathe.’ She pushed him up onto the staircase and forced his head down between his knees, rubbing his back in large, comforting circles. ‘It’s okay. I’m here. It’s going to be okay. One, two, three,’ she counted patiently and he breathed to the sound and rhythm of her voice. Slowly, the sensation started to return to him, starting at the soles of his feet and working its way up as his frantic breath struggled to fill his constricted chest. They stayed sitting like that for over fifteen minutes and when he finally fell back against the stairs, she asked him what had happened.

  Exhausted and hurting to the point of dizziness, he told her the truth although he wished he could have made up a lie, stayed in her love for just a little while longer. He spoke with difficulty, still short of air, working his way around the vasectomy and starting from when he had met Gina in the bar during the snowstorm. Marienne stared at his lips as he spoke, as if she had to see the words form on his mouth as well as hear them. Her own twitched occasionally; it looked like she might laugh. She didn’t quite believe him, perhaps thought he was still lightheaded and confused.

  ‘We were having our problems and she was there—she listened to me. I just needed someone to talk to,’ he said. ‘But I never meant for this to happen. God—I never thought that she would—I mean, a baby,’ he ran out of words then, fell short of any explanations. ‘You have to believe me, Annie.’ Marienne let go of his hand and stood up. ‘Marienne.’

  ‘Don’t touch me.’ They stayed apart, silent, each taking in the shocking news. When she laughed, it was dry and bitter. ‘This is because I couldn’t give you children, isn’t it?’

  ‘Of course not. I didn’t want this. You know I didn’t want this.’

  She was crying, not listening to him, her own explanation solid in her mind. ‘You told me it was going to be okay. That we were going to be okay.’

  ‘I have to go to the hospital,’ he said quietly. ‘When I come back, we can sort all of this out.’

  ‘No, please.’ Her fingers had never been as strong as they were then, grasping at his arm. ‘Forget the phone call ever came. You can’t leave me,’ her nails leaving half-moon impressions in his skin.

  ‘I’ll be back soon.’ His head had cleared while hers had grown watery and he spoke steadily. ‘I have to go and see her.’

  ‘You said we were going to be okay, just the two of us. You promised me that.’

  ‘It was a big mistake, Annie. I never meant for this to happen.’ As ridiculous as it was, he looked to her for comfort; to help him unlock the dread that was still tied around his chest and
wasn’t letting go.

  ‘Tell me when this happened,’ she said. ‘We were having problems but I thought that at the end of the day, you still loved me. What am I supposed to do now?’ Her voice rose, coloring her neck and spreading to her cheeks. ‘I was getting over it. I was getting better, James.’ She almost shouted the last part.

  ‘I know you were.’ He felt a stinging misery, an enormous longing to erase the last few minutes of his life. ‘I do love you, Annie, and this has nothing to do with the fact that you can’t have children.’ As he said it, he felt their old life slip away from him, disappearing like vapor into the air. ‘I have to go to her. What else can I do?’

  The phone call had left him too weak and unable to go after Marienne as she stepped away from him, grabbing the keys from the hook near the door. The action was a quick, horrible reminder of the life they had built together, the comfortable routine they had established; hanging the keys on the hook by the door every time you walked in so that you would always remember where they were.

  ‘I can’t believe you’ve done this to me.’

  Those were the last words she spoke to him and more than six hours later, he stood above Gina with his daughter crying in the background and he looked from one to the other, knowing what had to be done. It didn’t matter how she had come to be here or what might happen in the future, all that he was aware of was that she was wonderful and new and all his.

  ‘She’s beautiful,’ he said to Gina.

  ‘Really?’ There was hope in her eyes that made him turn away and move toward the crib, looking down at his squirming daughter. He touched her brazen hair lightly. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said, wanting to reach down and kiss her but he was still a little hesitant, disbelieving. Today, he was different; older and wiser and his life had weight and consequences to it. Everything around him seemed precious and vulnerable. ‘I’ll look after you.’

  He wasn’t used to sleeping alone and the bed was too wide for him; a sad, long stretch of loneliness. He sat up and moved to the smaller couch, spreading himself out to fill it. He carried a pillow with him, curling into it. He pressed his face into the soft material and was startled by Marienne’s particular scent.

  He had come home from the hospital to find her almost completely packed. She didn’t acknowledge him when he entered the room and refused to listen as he spoke, his voice rising higher and higher with frustration. The nearly bare closet was dark and cold, gaping out at him miserably and he couldn’t look at it.

  ‘We have to at least talk about this,’ he kept saying over and over again, following her around the room as she gathered up pieces and memories of their lives that had accumulated over the last few years. ‘At least give me the chance to explain everything properly to you. You can’t just walk out on me, Annie.’

  ‘I’m not the one walking out. Don’t you dare blame me.’ She reached the dressing table and pushed her lipsticks and hairbrushes into a small bag with shiny bottles of perfume and a bracelet he had bought her for her last birthday. The small, heart-shaped charm swung carelessly in the air and it made him sad to watch it. She threw the pouch into one of her open, waiting suitcases, then stopped; her breath caught in her throat. ‘Is it a boy or a girl?’

  ‘Annie.’

  ‘I want to know.’ Her voice close to a shout; her back rigid and still. ‘Boy or girl?’

  He felt ashamed saying it; felt guilty for the rush of pride that flooded him. His cheeks burned. ‘A girl,’ unable to keep the pleasure out of his voice.

  She caught the tears in the cup of her palm, sucking in deep breaths and falling to the edge of the bed. He was rooted to the spot, his own tears blurring his vision. She clutched the corner of the suitcase so tight, her knuckles turned white and hard. Her hair fell over her face like a thick, black sheet. She let out a low sound, so deep and painful, like a wounded animal, that he was immediately worried.

  ‘Annie,’ moving forward.

  ‘I can’t breathe.’

  He went to her, put his hand on her shoulder and she turned around and let him take her in his arms, pressing her face to his chest. She bit down hard on his skin through his shirt. He felt the pinch shoot through him but held back his protest. Her shoulders shook and her tears were cold, burning holes in him. When she pushed him away, he had no choice but to let her go. She sucked in a few breaths, her face regaining its color and hardness. ‘Do you want to know what hurts the most?’ She turned to him fully. ‘That you were so mindless about my feelings. That you made such a complete fool of me.’ She blinked several times before continuing. ‘That for all these years, I trusted you, when God knows what you’ve been doing behind my back.’

  ‘I’ve always been faithful, Annie. I made one mistake. That’s all it was. A horrible, huge mistake.’

  ‘You shouldn’t have made it then,’ she spat out at him. ‘No one forced you on her. No one forced you to get her pregnant!’ Her hands were shaking and when she saw him staring, she pushed them into the pockets of her cardigan. ‘And you let me work with her.’ She’d had hours to think over what had happened and it didn’t matter what he said now, there were things she had to say and she didn’t want to listen to him. ‘That was a clever trick, wasn’t it?’

  ‘What do you mean?’ His heart sank and he tried to keep his face as neutral as possible.

  ‘You know exactly what I mean. Asking her to offer me the night shift so you’d have free evenings to do whatever you wanted.’

  ‘It wasn’t like that.’

  ‘Don’t lie to me. Please, I can’t take it anymore.’ Her hands were working again, throwing things into the suitcase. Her fingers reached and hovered over their photo sitting high on the dresser, overlooking their bed, and she pulled away with a small choking sound before tipping it over and placing it face down so she wouldn’t have to look at it. He wanted to say something, anything, but words escaped him as he watched her stride purposefully about the room yet with a look of utter helplessness across her face. She finished collecting what she needed, not bothering to double check if she had everything. She left without looking back or saying goodbye, forcing her way past him.

  ‘Where are you going to go?’ he asked, trying to catch her arm but she was too fast for him. ‘I’ll move out. You can stay here.’

  ‘I don’t want to be anywhere that reminds me of you.’

  ‘Annie, please…’ he felt a hot desperation build in his throat as the reality of her not being in his life anymore fully hit him. It sucked the words out of him so that he could only watch as she bumped her suitcase down the stairs, the loud thud echoing along the wall. He didn’t try to help her and even when he begged, ‘I just need to know that you’ll be alright—at least tell me how I can contact you,’ she refused to say where she was going. She was at the door, moving fast, but suddenly she stopped. He felt his heart rise, start racing with hope in his chest. But then she turned and he saw how hard her face was. How she suddenly seemed to have transformed from that ageless, bright girl he knew into someone lonely and sad.

  ‘I just want to know why,’ she said. ‘After all these years we’ve been together, after how much I’ve loved you, why have you done this? You were the only family I had.’

  He wanted to tell her something that would make her feel better; to let her know that it had nothing to do with her and everything to do with him. But it was impossible to articulate and he found himself shrugging helplessly. ‘I don’t know but I’m going to regret it for the rest of my life.’

  ‘That’s for you to live with,’ she said. ‘Don’t put your guilt on me.’ She pulled open the door.

  He couldn’t help but call out, ‘I love you, Annie. Please don’t leave,’ but his declaration was met with a firmly closed door.

  She had abandoned him to a room that was scattered and bare and broken; full of her absence and noisy with his desperation. It had grown dark by then but he hadn’t had the energy to turn on any of the lights. So he moved blindly down the corridor, retracing her steps, f
eeling along the wooden banister. He made his careful way down the stairs, comforted by the velvet blanket of darkness that covered him. He was glad he could barely see around him. It didn’t feel like his home anymore; nothing seemed right, as if the house had shifted off-balance without her.

  He went to make himself a cup of tea, not because he wanted it but because he needed a distraction; the simple, calming pattern of the process. He noticed she had forgotten her favorite mug, left unwashed by the kitchen sink and he worried that she would miss it, wherever she was going. He picked it up and saw that it still had her lipstick stains around the rim from that morning and he poured hot water into it without rinsing it first.

  He considered going back to the hospital, to spend the night there so at least he wouldn’t be alone. He wanted to see his daughter again; to hold her and reassure himself. He smiled when he thought of her, knowing that it might be more difficult later on but also sure that now he had her, he couldn’t live without her. Still, his world seemed empty and friendless without Marienne; like a black hole he was hurtling through and all he wanted to do was to hold her hand and steady himself. He finished his tea and the warm liquid tired him. He was heavy-lidded and worn out, but when he fell onto the couch, pulling the blanket up around his chin despite the heat, he was suddenly wide awake. He would have to bring Gina back to his house once she was ready to leave the hospital. She was still a stranger to him and the thought of having her here, in a home he had shared with a woman he had adored, one he had loved coming home to and knew every corner of, made him edgy. He closed his eyes, inhaling Marienne’s smell; the images of her packing and leaving flashing against his eyelids. He started counting backward slowly from twenty, reassuring himself that he would find her tomorrow and fix everything, and before he reached ten he sank quickly into a noisy yet dreamless sleep.

  ‌26

  ‌Whitehorse, Yukon. December 1992