Remember This

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by Patricia Koerner


  44

  The day after Labor Day, at the end of the monthly department faculty meeting, our department chair, Professor Rodgers, asked me to stay behind. “Hannah,” she said, closing the door. “We need to talk. Please sit down.” I sensed what was coming and avoided eye contact. “Do you remember a student named Carrie Woodward?”

  “Of course. She’s one of my private instruction students.”

  “Not anymore she isn’t. She came to me and asked for another instructor. She was quite adamant. She told me what happened, how you lost it and yelled at her. If that were all, I wouldn’t make much of it, but you’ve been late to class and to meetings. I’ve noticed your eyes are often red.”

  “I’m sorry. I’ve had trouble sleeping… “

  Professor Rodgers held up her hand. “I’m only going to say this once. You’re coming up for tenure -- next year, I believe. I’d hate to see you ruin your chances. Whatever is going on with you, I don’t have to know and neither does the Dean … for now. There is help and counseling available here at the University for financial issues, marital problems …” she paused. “… substance abuse. You’re in over your head, Hannah, and you need to get control of your situation while you still can.”

  After that dressing down, I was humiliated, then angry. “How dare she?” I fumed. I couldn’t escape the truth though. I was putting my career and reputation at risk for this? Getting high and having sleazy sex had become an easy way to avoid dealing with the pain I felt at how John and I ended up, but I had dug myself into a very deep hole, and I had not the slightest idea of how to even begin climbing out.

  I turned to the only person I trusted – Laurie. That Sunday, I phoned her and told her everything that went on between me and Frank, as well as what happened with Carrie Woodward and with Professor Rodgers. “Are you still there, Laurie?” She hadn’t said a word.

  “Yes, I’m still here, Hannah.” She was trying to sound calm, but I could tell she was horrified, just as I would have been if she had told this story to me.

  “The last time we were together, he said I was getting too many miles on me and called me a vieja. Pissed off, I shot back, ‘Fuck you, Frank. I’m only five years older than you. That hardly makes me your grandmother.’ The grin on his face told me that he got a perverse kick out of taunting me.”

  “From what you’ve told me, I wouldn’t have expected anything better from him. For God’s sake, Hannah, how could you not see he was just using you?”

  “I was using him, too. Using him as a distraction so I could forget about John, as a painkiller to …” I broke into tears.

  “Look,” Laurie said. Her voice had a hard note of determination in it. “The first thing you need to do is end it with this Frank. Now, before you ruin your life and career. Next, you need to get counseling, like Professor Rodgers said, to deal with your drug problem.”

  “No! I don’t want to talk with anyone else about this. You’re the only one I trust.”

  “I’m really not the best person,” she said. “I’m so appalled at this whole thing, I don’t think I can advise you.” She was silent for a minute. When she spoke again, her voice softened. “There’s one more thing you need to do. You need to forgive John.”

  “No, I can’t. Forgive him? No way.”

  “You must if you are ever going to be able to let this go and move on. Don’t do it for him, but for yourself, to give yourself closure.”

  “I don’t know if I can.”

  “I’m going to tell you something that I haven’t told you before because I knew you didn’t want to hear it, but I’m asking you to listen now.” She took a deep breath. “After you sent back John’s letter and said you never wanted to hear from him again, twice he came back to me with that letter. He begged me to get you to read it, to let him explain. I told him it was pointless. You wouldn’t read it. He started to tell me why he stayed with Rachel. ‘Rachel gave me no choice,’ he said. ‘She backed me into a corner. If Hannah would only listen, she’d understand.’ He stopped then and just walked off. I’ve not seen him since except in passing once or twice. Even if you don’t want to hear his explanation, wouldn’t it be worth it to you to forgive him if only to give your heart peace?”

  Over the next few days I replayed Laurie’s words over and over in my head, trying to build up the courage to break it off with Frank. I wasn’t sure I was ready yet to forgive John, but I was going to take that first step. I wasn’t brave enough to phone Frank myself, but I knew it was only a matter of time before he phoned me, and he did, the next afternoon.

  “It’s been a while,” he said in a teasing, sing-song voice. “How about tomorrow, the usual time?”

  “No.” I swallowed hard. “It’s over, Frank. I’m not coming anymore. I’m ending it.” Before he could answer, I shut my eyes hard and continued, afraid I’d lose my nerve. “I need to get my life together and besides, I’ve grown weary of how you get your kicks at my expense. I know I walked into it but now, I’m walking out.”

  He laughed, a bitter humorless laugh. “Let me tell you somethin’, pur-fess-er lady. You pant for a fix just like the rest of them. Your legs spread just as wide. So don’t go thinkin’ you’re somethin’ special.”

  I slammed down the receiver and held it down until my hand stopped shaking, worried he might phone back to continue his obscene tirade. When I was finally able to get up and go home, I felt the chains of my addictions loosen just a little.

  ***

  That Friday I had just brought some lunch back to my office and sat down to eat when I got a call from a woman for whom I will use the pseudonym “Letty.” She identified herself as Frank’s wife. “I want to know how long you’ve been involved with my husband,” she demanded.

  “Ex-husband, isn’t it?”

  “That’s what he told you?” She laughed. “For your information, we’re married and have been for seven years. Now, I want some information from you. I’m at work and can’t talk now. I don’t want people here to know my business. Meet me this afternoon at four o’ clock.”

  “No.” I was almost free of Frank and I wanted nothing more to do with him or his wife. “I’ve ended my association with your husband,” I told her. “I don’t want to be involved in whatever is going on between the two of you.”

  “Oh, but you will meet me,” said Letty. “On this piece of paper I found in my husband’s wallet, was your name and number and where you work, the Music Department at the University of Utah. Maybe I’ll come up there and ask around. Maybe I’ll …”

  “All right,” I cut in. She was probably bluffing, but I wasn’t going to chance it. I didn’t trust her, so I said, “I’ll meet you, but in an open public space.”

  I heard her chuckle. “OK. Sugarhouse Park, the picnic tables by the duck pond. Don’t be late.”

  I parked my car on the east side of the park, on the same side of the pond the picnic tables were. I walked past several pavilions, a knot in my stomach. I thought of turning back and calling Letty’s bluff, but I’d come this far and I thought I may as well see it through.

  There was no one nearby except a group of children with a dog playing Frisbee when I approached the picnic tables. Then I saw a dark petite woman sitting at one, wearing a fast food restaurant employee’s uniform. Her curly hair was piled on top of her head and dyed a gaudy shade of red – a poorly executed home job, from the look of it. The roots were black and the part that was colored was dry and frizzy. She looked worn and haggard, like a woman who was beaten down by life. I actually felt sorry for her.

  “Letty?” She nodded and I sat across from her. I wanted to get this over with so I wasted no time with introductions or small talk and came straight to the point. “What is it you want from me?”

  “Information.” She studied me for a moment, sizing me up, I sensed. “I want information I can hold over him if and when I need to. And you are going to give it to me, because I have something I can hold over you too.”

  “I told you before,
I won’t become involved in your and Frank’s … marital issues. I have my own life to get in order. Besides, I don’t see how anything I can tell you could possibly be useful.”

  “Let me be the judge of that. With what I’ll know about you and about the two other women … that I know of …he’s cheated on me with, I can get Frank right where I want him.”

  “I hope you don’t mind my asking this,” I said, “but if he cheats on you so much, why do you stay with him? I wouldn’t.”

  “You wouldn’t,” she said, jabbing her finger at me, “but I have three kids to feed. Two I had before Frank and one he and I have together.” She grabbed the name tag pinned to her uniform and jiggled it. “Do you think the pay at Taco Hell is so great? I need his paycheck.”

  I had to stifle a laugh as I remembered Frank complaining about his “ex-wife” being a grasping harpy, always demanding more and more in alimony and in child support payments for their son. I decided then that Letty was entitled to know what her husband was doing behind her back. I drew a deep breath and braced myself. “OK, Letty,” I said. “What can I tell you?”

  Letty wanted a full rundown of Frank’s and my relationship, though now I would hardly call it a relationship. I told her how I met Frank, when we got together and where, and that Frank had brought hashish with him and gotten me hooked.

  “Damn him!” she cut in, slamming her hand down on the table. “Blowing money to get high when we had bills to pay. I’ll … “ Looking back up at me, she said, “I think I’ve got all I need from you.” When I rose from the table, Letty gave me a long look up and down and said disdainfully, “To look at you, I’d have thought you would have been smarter.”

  Walking back to my car, I thought to myself that Letty was a pissy little bitch, but I hoped that I had given her what she needed to get Frank by the short hairs. It wasn’t anything he didn’t deserve, after the way he’d treated me and Letty and probably those other women as well. I now felt completely free of him.

  Freeing myself from Frank was only the beginning. The underlying issue that I had avoided dealing with was still there – my feelings for John. I knew Laurie was right. I couldn’t move on until I found it in my heart to forgive him. Contrary to what would seem to make sense, the fact that I was still in love with him made it all the harder. If I no longer loved him, it would have been much easier to forget and move on. I was working on it and making progress, but it would take time. I also tried once again to connect with Guillermo. Given my lack of success there, I didn’t let my hopes get too high. Still, making an effort to repair our marriage was, for me, also part of the process. I believed I owed it to him somehow and I was still fond of him, though we’d lived virtually apart for over a year and I couldn’t even remember the last time we were intimate. We went out to dinner a couple of times and once to a movie. We even talked about taking a trip to Mount Rushmore.

  A new school year began and I was busy again with teaching. I also was helping arrange an exhibit of Asian musical instruments at the Utah Museum of Fine Arts, which was to open the week before Thanksgiving and run through January. I was excited about this project, as it was one of the first such exhibits in Utah. I was proud to be a part of it. I continued to phone Laurie every week or so to tell her all about the exhibit and to reassure her that I was keeping things together. Perhaps Laurie’s encouragement did it. Perhaps having something to be enthused about again somehow did it, but at last my heart softened towards John. I finally forgave him.

  45

  I was putting the last touches on dinner one evening in early October when I noticed Guillermo looking out the window. “What are you looking at, Memo? Come and have dinner before it gets cold. I actually found plantains at the store today and fried some to go with the arroz con pollo …” I went to the window to see what he was looking at. To my horror it was Frank, sitting in front of the house in his car.

  “What’s that guy doing, just sitting there looking up here? Maybe I’d better go find out.”

  Trying to hide my panic, I said, “Oh, he’s likely just looking for an address. Maybe he’s got the wrong street or something. Come and eat dinner.”

  I almost fainted with relief when Guillermo came to the table. I was terrified that Frank would come to the door, but he did not. When Guillermo finished eating, he went again to the window. “He’s gone.”

  “I told you. He was probably lost, like I said.” That wasn’t the last of Frank, unfortunately. The next day, when I went to my office, there was a message on my machine.

  “Bitch! You have your nerve talking to my wife! So you think you and she are going get together to bust my balls, huh? Well, don’t count on it. I’ve reminded her which side her bread is buttered on.”

  I wrote this off as mere ranting and assumed that he just wanted to blow off steam, but a few days later, he phoned again. This time he wasn’t ranting. His voice was chillingly calm. “You better pray we don’t cross paths again, because I just might decide that some payback is in order for you trying to ruin my life.”

  I picked up the phone before it disconnected. “You brought this on yourself, Frank,” I said. “You lied to me and to your wife, got your kicks out of degrading me. Did you really think there wouldn’t be consequences to pay? Now pay up like a man and stop sniveling.” I hanged up on him. I was disgusted. I paid the price for my choices and now he could pay for his.

  I’d put up a brave front to Frank, but in reality I was frightened. I’d seen his temper, I knew he carried a weapon and that he held a grudge against me. I was even more terrified of anyone finding out about it. The next time I phoned Laurie, she wanted me to go to the police, but I didn’t want to risk that. If they confronted Frank, even if all they did was warn him, I knew it would only inflame his anger. I kept telling her, “OK, Frank has vented his rage and hopefully that will be the end of it.” We both knew though, that I was just trying to convince myself of that.

  “I tracked John down through his agent, Ron Cooper,” said Laurie. “I met with John in MacArthur Park during my lunch hour last Friday. I know you two still love each other and I know if you could resolve things and at least be friends, you could close the book on this once and for all, so please don’t be angry with me for contacting him. I offered to pass a letter on to you, but he wants to see you and explain it all in person. Do you have time, with the exhibit and everything, to come down to L.A. for a couple of days?”

  “No, I’m afraid not. I do want to mend things with John, but I just can’t make a trip now.” My eyes fell on the calendar on the table next to the phone. Guillermo had marked out five days in the last week of the month. “Guillermo is going to be in Mexico City from the twenty-fifth through the twenty-ninth,” I said. “So perhaps John can come up here for a day or two. We can have dinner, talk things over …”

  “That might work. When I talked to him, he said since Happy Valley was cancelled, he’s done one movie and a couple of TV guest roles, but isn’t working right now. May I have him call your office so you two can arrange something?”

  “Yes, and Laurie, I’m not angry. In fact I appreciate that you cared enough to do this.”

  John phoned me a few days later. Thankfully, no one was in the office with me because on hearing his voice, I broke into tears. “Hannah my love, don’t cry. We’ll work everything out when we meet. I’m going to drive up and get there on Friday. I’ll pick you up at your house and we’ll go to dinner. Is that all right with you?”

  “Drive up? Why not just fly?”

  “I want to drive. I need some time to be alone to think and this will be a good chance.”

  “OK, John.” His voice soothed and consoled me as it always did and I stopped crying. “I can’t wait to see you.”

  I looked out the window to see dark clouds in the sky and a breeze rustling through the tree branches, by now almost bare of leaves. It had been a mild autumn so far, but now a shiver passed through me, warning me of the coming cold. I grabbed a scarf and put it on. John had
left me a message that morning saying he was in St. George and would arrive at my house at five. I checked the clock for the third time. “Stop being so jittery,” I chided myself. “You’d think it was your first date.”

  I was pouring myself a glass of wine when the doorbell rang. I opened it and saw Frank. “Go away!” I tried to shut the door on him. “Leave me alone!” He forced his way in and in a second, the tip of his knife was under my chin.

  “Scream, and I’ll slit your throat.”

  “My husband will be home from work any minute,” I said. “If you leave now, I won’t say a word, I swear.”

  Frank leaned in close until his lips brushed my ear. “You’re a liar,” he whispered. “I’ve been watching. He left day before yesterday with two suitcases. From that, I’m guessing that he’s not due back for another two or three days yet. Plenty of time for us to party, right? Yeah, I’m right ain’t I?” When I didn’t answer, he said, “I’ll take that as a ‘yes.’ Now, we’re going to walk to my car. If you do anything to alarm your neighbor over there raking leaves, this knife will go right into your ribs. Sure, he’ll call the cops, but it’ll be too late for you. You’ll be dead before he even finishes dialing 911.” We walked to Frank’s car, parked just out of sight range of my house. He opened the passenger side. “Get in and move over. You’re driving.”

  He forced me to drive us to Orem, to one of the motels we’d gone to before. When we arrived, he had me go with him to the front desk, his knife on me the whole time. The clerk beamed at us and said to Frank, “Nice to see you again. Is this your wife?” I felt the tip of Frank’s knife prick my back.

 

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