Never Change

by Anne Carol

  On the third visit, I talked to Michael, “Hey, buddy. How would you feel if Daddy and I tried to have another baby?” I paused to catch my breath, and then continued, explaining that another pregnancy wouldn’t make me forget about him and that he’d always be my first baby. I loved you and wanted you so badly, but God wanted you more. By the time I was finished, my face was soaked, but the guilty feeling was gone. In some weird way, I finally felt at peace with trying for another baby.

  Later that evening over dinner, I slipped it into conversation, what I’d done. “So…I don’t think I want to wait much longer.”

  David, who’d grown eerily quiet as I relayed my story, broke into a smile so wide he nearly choked on his baked potato. I laughed at my goofy husband—with food stuck in his mouth. He quickly swallowed and blurted out, “Honestly? How soon?”

  “Whenever you’re ready.”

  Grinning mischievously at me, he took one of my hands in both of his and sat silent for a moment. “I want to try right away, but we have the UK tour coming up soon. It’s only two weeks. How about we start after the tour? That way I’m not…distracted.”

  “Good point.” I took a deep breath. “I say we go for it.”

  “In the meantime, we can just practice a lot.” He winked at me, and I rolled my eyes.

  David’s charisma returned after that talk. He wasn’t mopey, and even his stage presence at gigs livened up. Perhaps all he needed was something to look forward to. I just hoped he realized this would be more than a “project” for the two of us. Once a baby joined us, life would never be the same. He needed to be serious about the responsibility.

  Unfortunately, he still had some things to learn, as evidenced by his actions the week before the tour.

  I had dinner on the stove and was sipping tea at the counter when David bounded into the flat holding a bouquet of roses.

  My hand flew to my chest. “Aw, honey, what’s the occasion?”

  He handing me the bouquet and kissed me. “Big news,” he said with bright eyes. “Pete’s getting married.”

  My jaw dropped. “What? That didn’t take long!”

  “I know, right? Anyway, he wants to go out and celebrate, just the guys. Are you good with that?” He rubbed the back of his neck.

  “Are you kidding me? I’ve been wanting you to go out and enjoy yourself.” I inhaled over the flowers. “Is that why you brought me flowers?”

  He grimaced. “Maybe.”

  “You goof.” I swatted at him. “You don’t have to woo me to earn a night out with the guys. I’ll hang out with Brooke and Emma, have a girls’ night.”

  “You do that.” His tone didn’t match his expression, which now seemed strained. He was worried, and not about me but about himself.

  “You’ll be fine, David. The guys will make sure you stay clean. Well, at least Don and Martin will.”

  “I know. I just want to enjoy myself and not be tempted.”

  “Put your focus on your friends, not on what you can’t have.”

  He nodded. “I’ll try.”

  We had a nice dinner together—pork chops, mashed potatoes, and peas—and then he excused himself to change and run a comb through his hair. When he surfaced minutes later—how I envied men sometimes—I took a good look at him and felt my pulse race. He was gorgeous, with his dark blue button-up, black jeans, and Doc Martens. A pang of jealousy hit me as I thought of all the women who might approach him. I had to trust him, though. After everything he’d gone through over the past several months, he deserved a fun night out.

  “Don’t wait up for me. It may be a late one,” he said as he grabbed his wallet and house key.

  “Just have fun.” Though I may not sleep until you get home.

  He came over to the couch, where I was watching TV, and kissed me. “I love you.”

  “Love you, too. Stay safe.”

  “Will do. Enjoy your girls’ night.” He swung open the door, waved at me, and headed out.

  I sighed, praying with everything in me he wouldn’t fall off the wagon.

  It was after two when David finally slipped into bed, the smell of cigarettes clinging to him, but with no hint of liquor. Thank goodness. I stirred when he kissed my forehead. “I’m home,” he whispered. “Good night, beautiful.”

  His words melted me, and I was glad he was home, but the tobacco smell was overpowering, so I made no effort to snuggle with him. He must have taken the hint because he scooted away and allowed me to fall back to sleep.

  The next morning David didn’t crawl out of the bedroom until past eleven.

  “Well look who’s joined the land of the living?” I set down my book on the couch. “You hungry? I can make you some breakfast.”

  “Yes, please.” He slumped into a dining chair and gave me a hesitant smile, just before yawning.

  “Did you have fun last night?” I ruffled his scraggly hair as I passed him on the way to the kitchen.

  “Yes. It was a little crazy,” he mumbled, wiping his palm down his face.

  “What did you do?”

  “Oh, just went to a little club.” He didn’t face me when he answered, which naturally set off alarms. And what exactly happened? I wanted to shout, but zipped my lips. I’d encouraged him to go out, and he came home to me, so maybe I didn’t need to know the details.

  “Going to the studio today?” My voice quavered, though I tried to sound cool.

  “Yes, this afternoon. May not be home until after dinner, so don’t expect me. We need to get some tracks down before next week’s tour.”

  “How does it feel getting back to recording?” I started the burner and cracked a few eggs into the pan.

  “Good, but I’ll admit I’m anxious to get back out on the road. I miss it. And I get to be around my wife more.” His smile was genuine, easing my nerves. “Much more down time on tour.”

  “True.” I stirred the eggs around. “Except there’s no privacy.” I giggled.

  “We’ll just have to enjoy it over the next week, then.” He flashed a grin.

  Not long after David left, Brooke appeared at my door, toting Emma in one arm and a handbag in the other. Her showing up was no surprise, but her hard eyes and flared nostrils gave me pause for concern.

  “Did he tell you?” she hissed.

  “Did who tell me what?” A chill ran down my spine.

  She barreled inside, steam rolling off her. “Where they went last night!”

  “David said they went to a club. Was he lying?”

  “Oh, they went to a club…a strip club! Oh, and they even got a picture with the little tarts!” She flung her arm up. “I could kill them!”

  She set the baby down with a cloth book, stalked into the kitchen, and turned on the tea pot. “I need some chamomile.”

  “A strip club? No, really?” The blood rushed from my face. Surely David wouldn’t have gone to a place like that?

  Brooke didn’t answer; she merely walked back to her bag and pulled out a wadded up newspaper. She flattened it out on the kitchen table and pointed to a photo in the entertainment section. I gasped. There they were—the five members of Vinyl Fog surrounded by floozy women who were displaying their ample cleavage and—my stomach fell—two of them were kissing my husband’s cheeks! I couldn’t tell from the angle of the photo where the ladies’ hands were, but I didn’t want to know.

  “AH!” I hollered, slamming my hand on the table.

  Emma startled and looked up at me with wide eyes. I reached down to smooth her hair. “Sorry, princess.”

  “Isn’t that just great?” Brooke shook her head. “What are we going to do with them?”

  The tea pot whistled and she went back to fix our cups while I sat with Emma. I wanted to make sure she didn’t wander off.

  “Did you confront Don, or did you see that after he left?”

  “Beth, he came home sauced, which isn’t like him. And he kept saying, ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry’. I didn’t know what he was talking about, so I let it go last
night. But the paper this morning told me what he was sorry about. I gave him an earful before he left. Stupid, stupid blokes. I’m sure it was all Trevor’s prodding. That man.” She paced back and forth, shaking her head.

  “He didn’t say anything about David drinking, did he?” I braced myself.

  “No.” She sat at the table and took a sip of tea. “How did he seem when he got home?”

  “I was half-asleep, but he seemed sober. And I didn’t smell any liquor on his breath.” I shivered. “I think I need to wash the sheets. I don’t need another woman’s scent on our bed linens. Who knows where those women have been.”

  “Seriously.” Brooke made a gagging sound. “You know what I think? We should go out tonight and give them a taste of their own medicine.”

  “I’m up for that. A part of me wants to disappear until after we get back. I’m not sure I’ll be able to control my temper when I see David.” My cheeks heated. “He is so busted.”

  My pulse raced, and it was a good thing Emma was there, or I would have spewed a few colorful words. I pushed myself off the floor and headed into the kitchen to grab my cup of chamomile.

  Oh, David. What were you thinking? Why would he go to sleazy strip club and allow half-naked women to sit on his lap and slobber all over him? And why, for heaven’s sake, hadn’t he been honest with me? I felt betrayed. How dare he.

  He was not going to get away with this.

  Brooke and I raged some more about our husbands, and then Emma started whining, so the two of them went back upstairs, leaving me to boil in my anger. I needed something to do, so I went into our bedroom and found David’s clothes from the night before strewn about. Swearing loudly, I grabbed his shirt and foolishly put it to my nose.

  “Ack!” I cried, throwing down the shirt. A mix of cigarettes and cheap perfume. Gross. Huffing, I gathered the pile of clothes—holding my breath—and dumped them into the washer before I went back for the sheets.

  The chamomile tea flowed all afternoon as I tried to calm down. Escaping into a novel helped, and then I sat down with my Bible, even though I resisted at first. I wasn’t in the right frame of mind, but I should have known it would give me peace.

  That peace ended the moment David walked through the door at close to 9:00. Everything I’d read in the Bible about anger was forgotten. I wanted to throw the Good Book at him, along with my full cup of hot tea.

  His jaw twitched when he saw my scowling face. “Hello, doll,” he said, his voice shaky.

  I was in the kitchen washing dishes. “Hi.” The pot I was washing got the brunt of my anger as I scrubbed it to death.

  “What’s wrong, Beth? I told you I’d be late, didn’t I?” I felt his warm hand on the small of my back.

  I jerked away from him. “Don’t touch me.”

  “Why? I don’t understand.”

  I whirled around and gave him an icy glare. “When were you going to tell me about last night? About the strip club and those chesty women who joined your party?” I sniffed. “Can’t believe you…”

  He remained quiet for a moment, and then he grabbed the dish towel and started drying dishes. “I didn’t tell you because I figured you’d blow it out of proportion,” he finally admitted. “It wasn’t my doing. It was all Trevor and Pete. They didn’t tell us it was going to be a strip club. And they invited the girls to join us.”

  “How nice,” I said with clenched teeth. I turned to face him. “And I’m sure you were just miserable, ogling bare-chested women and then getting groped all night, forgetting about your wife at home.”

  “Beth, I did nothing inappropriate. Yes, a few women kissed me, but I promise you I didn’t cross any lines. I would never do that to you. Good grief, you encouraged me to go out! I’m sorry it got out of hand. Have I mentioned I didn’t have one drop of alcohol?”

  A small part of me was relieved, but I was still fuming as I pointed to the paper still on the table. “I don’t care! You were behaving like a single man. That picture makes our marriage look like a joke.” His face fell and he inched toward me, but I put up my hands. “No! I don’t want to be around you right now. I’m sorry.”

  I brushed past him, grabbed my purse, and headed toward the front door, but David surprised me by running ahead of me and blocking the door. “What are you doing? Get out of my way!” I shouted.

  “You can be angry with me—and I’m truly sorry I hurt you—but you don’t walk out on me. We are married.” He pressed his lips together and stood statue-still.

  My very mature reaction was to groan loudly, spin around, and charge into the bathroom, where I promptly locked the door. I turned on the water in the bathtub. Maybe a bath will calm me down.

  His knock on the door startled me. “Let me in, Beth.” He jiggled the handle. “Please, can’t we at least talk about this?”

  “I need some time.”

  “Beth, come on. What was I supposed to do? We were celebrating with Pete.”

  “By being with other women?” I sneered. My limbs were shaking with anger.

  He swore loudly. “Beth, I did not cheat on you.”

  “Depends on your definition. Looking at another woman without clothes is cheating in my eyes.”

  “Fine! I was a jerk. Is that what you want me to say?”

  “No. I’m not interested in hearing that garbage. Just leave me alone.”

  He finally left me in peace, and when I heard his footsteps fade, I sunk down into the bubbles and cried. God, please keep David faithful to our marriage and soften my anger toward him. Help me to forgive.

  Unfortunately, the bitterness still hung in the air after my bath, so—without meeting his eye—I changed into my nightgown, grabbed my pillow from our bed, and headed to the sofa.

  “Beth, come on. This is ridiculous.”

  “I need space.”

  “I love you.”

  I didn’t answer. Switching on the television, I escaped into a mini-series, watching until my eyelids grew heavy. When I could no longer stay awake, I turned off the TV, curled up on the cushion, and fell asleep.

  I couldn’t sleep. It killed me that Beth was so angry she crashed on the sofa. At least she hadn’t left the flat, or had she? When the possibility crept over me, I bolted out of bed and went out to check on her. Whew, still fast asleep, though I wish she was in bed with me, in my arms. I tiptoed back to grab my pillow and a few blankets. Noticing she had no covering, I draped a blanket over her and kissed her cheek. I settled on the floor beside the sofa, knowing I’d sleep better if I was near her. I’d also know if she decided to sneak out.

  Beth’s favorite thing to do when angry was run. The worst time was when she’d caught me and Pete doing drugs in our hotel room last winter. After a shouting match, in which I’d said some things I regretted, she’d thrown her wedding ring at me and promptly disappeared…for hours. It was the longest afternoon of my life. I would have scoured the entire city to find her if I hadn’t been so out of it. Thank goodness she’d returned, unharmed. That incident literally scared me straight, at least for a few months.

  This time, though I’d stayed sober, I had to admit I screwed up again. She had every right to be cross with me. Why did those blokes have to go to a strip club, of all places? And then invite those ladies into our party? Where were their brains? The sad thing was I got pulled in right along with them. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy the scenery and the attention, but I felt horribly guilty about it.

  Beth was right—I’d betrayed her. Yes, I needed a night out with my mates, but I was wrong to look at and flirt with those women. Somehow I had to make it up to her. I never wanted her to feel like she wasn’t enough because she was the most wonderful woman in the world.

  As I lay staring at the ceiling, I heard Beth shift her position, and the next thing I knew she’d flopped on top of me. “Woah, Beth.” I held her steady, thinking she’d rolled off the couch in her sleep.

  “What the—?” she muttered, her eyes fluttering open. “David, what’re
you doing here?”

  “I couldn’t sleep.”

  “Afraid I’d sneak out?” She sat up, straddling me.

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if you did. I’d deserve it. I really screwed up, Beth.”

  She patted my chest. “David, it’s the middle of the night and I have to pee. Let’s talk about this tomorrow.”

  “Sure, but can you at least forgive me?”

  She pecked me on the lips. “Already have.”

  After she left, I clasped my hands behind my head and lay back, letting out a breath. She forgave me. Closing my eyes, I pulled up the blanket and tried to sleep. I couldn’t afford a sleepless night these days.

  Before I slipped under, Beth returned, snatched her pillow, and whispered, “Come on, you don’t need to sleep on the floor. Let’s go back to bed.”

  Her words were music to my ears.

  The next morning, I woke up to the incredible aroma of bangers and beans. I crawled out of bed and stumbled out into the kitchen, where Beth stood at the stove, holding the telephone to her ear.

  “So she’s going to watch the baby? Wonderful.” She paused. “I still need to tell David. He’s asleep—”

  “What do you need to tell me?” She whipped around at the sound of my voice, dropping the spatula on the floor. I promptly picked it up and threw it in the sink. “Sorry if I startled you,” I whispered, kissing her forehead. I grabbed a replacement out of the drawer and handed it to her.

  “Thanks,” she said, and then went back to her phone call. “Oh, sorry, Brooke. David’s awake now. I should go so I can clear everything with him.” She paused. “Sounds like a plan. See you later.”

  “What do you need to clear?” My stomach rumbled and she smirked at me.

  “Why don’t I get your breakfast and I’ll tell you,” she replied, proceeding to dish up eggs, bangers, and beans, with a side of toast.

  “Should I be worried?”

  She put our plates out and sat across from me at the table. “No. It’s not a big deal. Brooke was pretty ticked about the other night. I mean, Don came home smashed, so I’m pretty sure she’s not speaking to him at the moment.” She took a sip of tea. “Anyway, I think she needs girl time. So…we’re going clubbing tonight. Jenny’s coming, too.”