by Cosette Hale
“Let’s go in,” I said, resigned to what my life was becoming. Soon I’d confront my husband about the sleazy pictures the private investigator would inevitably take, and Greg would beg for forgiveness. I’d yell at him things about vows and trust and betrayal, storm out of the house, and fly to my mother’s until I could get back on my feet. What would I do? Get another crappy office job? Be the divorcee? It was overwhelming, and yet I saw it laid out so clearly, it must be so.
A short, slender man named Gus introduced himself as the private investigator, and the three of us sat down at a bar table. He told us his estimated cost based on the information given to him and asked for more details on each Natalie and Greg. He said he’d be on board the same plane as them tomorrow morning. Harvey looked at me, and I wondered if he felt as tense as I was. He must have been, with that stare he gave me. He was waiting for me to give the final OK and give the guy the money. So I did.
“Here, Gus,” I said reaching into my purse and pulling out the envelope stuffed with eight 100 dollar bills. Harvey took out his credit card. When Gus left the table, I sighed and said, “Oh my god.”
“I know,” he agreed. “I need a drink,” he announced, motioning to the waiter.
“Let me have a Jack and coke, and a...” He looked to me for my drink of choice, and while I normally don’t drink (lest the migraine attacks), having something to calm my nerves sounded inviting.
“Margarita, please,” I said, picking the first thing that came to mind.
“So, have you come across anything else? Or other unusual sexual requests?”
“No, I avoided sex completely. And I didn’t have a chance to look through anything else because he was around all night. I’m confident I’ve gone through most of his things, though. It’s weird that I can’t find one trace of proof in our house. Greg is not this meticulous.”
“But he has Natalie, and she is,” he reminded me.
“Why do you suppose they did it if they did do it?” It was the mother of all questions— why? Would there be a satisfactory answer?
“Well, they’re both good-looking people,” he said.
“Yes, they are,” I agreed.
I must have sounded very dejected because he immediately responded,
“Not that we’re not, too. You’re a beautiful woman, Audrey, and I don’t understand why anyone would ever jeopardize their marriage with you.” It was sweet, and I appreciated the sentiment, but while I was not awful to look at, there was certainly no comparison to Natalie.
Natalie was a blonde, blue-eyed goddess, commanding admiration every time she walked into a room. And my husband was very handsome. Different from Harvey, however. Greg’s looks stemmed from his perfectly chiseled face, perfect jet-black hair that sometimes fell on his face, and eyes that could knock any girl on her behind. Harvey had an undeniable masculine strength to him to add to his good looks. In a different time and place, I could picture him as a lumberjack. The idea of him swinging an axe almost made me laugh.
Instead, I said, “Well, you’re not too bad yourself, mister, so I’m not sure. The experience of having someone new? Not the same person you go to bed with and wake up next to day after day.”
“Yeah, except your husband is not that exciting,” he said, taking a sip of the whiskey in front of him.
“He is, in his own way.” Why was I defending him?
“I was kidding. I’m sure his stories about his trip to Asia are all the more fascinating after you’ve heard them twenty times,” he said, a twinkle in his eye. I laughed, knowing that Harvey must have been holding animosity towards Greg, even if he hadn’t shown it up to that point. And, yes, Greg brought up Asia a lot.
“Are you going to punch my husband?” I asked. When he didn’t answer I then asked, wide-eyed, “You’re not going to kill him, are you? Or anyone?” I never heard Natalie talk about Harvey as being the jealous type, but what if...
“No. No killing, no punching. Possibly a wall or two, but then again I’ve already done that.” He showed me his fist, and I saw that his knuckles were red and raw.
I told him my own feelings, glad I could discuss this with someone. “I’m not really angry— more like hurt, but I believe I’m putting it off somehow. It’s as if I’m waiting for the proof from this PI until I can experience the extent of my emotions about all of this.” I sipped from the delicious margarita, and the effect of the alcohol was instant. It must have been because I hardly ever drink. “What will you do?” I asked, knowing my own fate— return to my hometown.
“Not sure. I think about whether I can forgive her if that’s what she wants, but then I want to punch another wall. I’ll just have to wait until Thursday when Gus comes back to report on what happened.”
After a while we said goodbye, and I told Harvey to go on ahead and leave while I went to the bathroom. I stared at myself in the mirror, not having seen a tipsy Audrey in a long time and rather enjoying it. Then the room appeared to be tilting. Is this what one margarita does to me? I’m drunk, I told myself. Now how will I get home? I can just sit at the bar and drink water until I’m fine to drive, I reasoned. After thinking on it for several minutes, I decided to take a stroll in the park across the street and clear my head.
“You OK?” said a voice behind me as I stepped out of the bathroom. Startled, I yelled and saw it was Harvey, who then put his hands over his ears. I laughed, giggling really, and found that I couldn’t stop. He ushered me outside while people stopped eating to watch us leave.
“I’m sorry,” I said, wiping tears from my eyes, and then I started laughing again when I saw the amused look on his face.
“You’re a cheap drunk,” he said matter-of-factly, and I nodded my head.
“Why are you still here?” I asked.
“Well when you said you were going to the bathroom, I saw you turn around and practically fall over, so I decided to wait and check on you. I hope you weren’t planning on driving.”
“Nope, I want to go on the swings,” I pointed across the street at the park.
“I don’t think there are swings in that park.” he said, leading me towards it.
“Impossible,” I stated. “A park must have a swing.”
When we reached the sidewalk that leads into the park, I told him, “You can go home, Harvey. I’ll find the swing myself... I’d like to be alone, anyway... I’m not really drunk.” Then I walked off into the wooded trail, leaving Harvey with no choice but to follow me.
“You know, I’d noticed you never order drinks when we all go out to eat. Are you normally against alcohol or something?”
“No, I’m all for it. I feel great right now. As if my husband wasn’t sleeping with my best friend. Soon I won’t have a husband or a best friend, but right now what I care about is that swing. I hardly drink because it triggers my migraines, and I know in a few hours I will suffer, but right now I will enjoy it. Let’s turn left. I think that’s where the swing is.”
“Jesus, that sucks. So you never drink?”
“Not unless I’m willing to hide in my bedroom and turn off all the lights later on.”
I heard him following me as I tripped over roots and fallen branches. An urge to to run from him and yell “Hide and seek” came to me, but I was afraid he already thought I was nuts. Where was that swing?
“But you don’t have to babysit me. I won’t throw myself in front of an oncoming car or streak through these woods or anything.”
“I hope not,” he said with a chuckle, “But I’d be more comfortable staying with you until you’re sober.”
“That could take years!” Shouting to the trees released some of my pent up energy. “I might become an alcoholic now. I have to become something else now that I won’t be a wife.”
“You’d have a constant migraine,” he yelled back.
“But it would keep my mind off my failed marriage.”
Then he reached for me and put his hands on both of my shoulders. “Listen to me, Audrey. This is not our fault.
Whatever happens, they made that decision, so the marriage failing is not on us.”
“But everyone will think there’s something wrong with me. Everyone will somehow know why we are getting divorced. Or worse— I’ll stay with him, and everyone will know he cheated on me.” I was looking at him at first, but then shoved my head into his chest, knowing full well I would not stop the tears this time. And out they came.
He rested his hands on my back, trying to comfort me. “That’s not how this will go down. No one but them and us needs to know anything. And Gus, of course.” I looked up at him and smiled, once again glad I wasn’t in this alone.
“So, where is this swing again?” he asked, obviously humoring me.
“Follow me,” I said, wiping my tear-stained face on my sleeve. After a few more turns in the wood, we came upon a clearing under a large oak tree, with a wooden swing attached by rope to a low branch.
“Is this thing safe?” he asked, pulling down on the rope. After a couple of test swings himself, he jumped off and motioned for me to get on.
I felt him push against my back, and I was airborne. Back and forth, the wind whipped at my face and tangled my hair. The trees weren’t there… Harvey wasn’t there… it was almost as if even I wasn’t there. I closed my eyes and imagined what it would be like to not exist. To be nothing but the light I saw through my closed eyelids. After a while I noticed he had stopped pushing me and was sitting opposite me on the grass, watching as I slowed to a stop.
“I think I’m good to drive now.”
“I hope so. I sprained my arm pushing you for so long,” he said.
“Shut up,” I laughed, jumping off. “Let’s get out of here.”
He followed me back through the trail, walking me to my car. “Are you sure you’re fine? I’ll follow you home if you need me to.”
“No, no. I’m fine. You’re not headed home?”
“I have business nearby. I’m late, but that’s fine. It’s with a buddy of mine.”
“Oh, no! I’m so sorry I ruined your afternoon,” I said, truly feeling guilty my drunken antics had sidetracked his plans.
“It’s OK. We’re in this together,” he said, giving me a quick hug goodbye and echoing my thoughts.
Chapter Four
I worked the later shift that day, sharing only the part about my miscarriage with Tammy— that alone was depressing enough. When I got out late at night, I finally called my mother, though I continued avoiding the subject of the pregnancy. Nor did I share with her my suspicions about Greg. The last thing I wanted was to worry my mom needlessly when she was so concerned about my father’s high blood pressure.
“And then,” she said as she ranted about my dad, “All he talks about is what we will do when he retires this year. I’ve told him I want to keep working at the school still, but he insists on coming up with one ridiculous idea after another.” My mother has been teaching Spanish in the town high school for longer than I’ve been alive. I would think she’d want a change of pace from bratty teenagers, but she loves them, and they always seem to love her.
“What does he want to do now? Is it still moving to Costa Rica?” He’d suggested that, Panama, and some Caribbean island or other in the past few months.
“That’s always on the table, but now he wants to buy an RV and drive around the country. It sounds lovely, but I want to be able to come back to my house after a vacation, not stay in a big car!”
“Dad is so funny. Why don’t you get him involved in the local country club? What if he takes up golf?” I suggested. I foresaw that’s what Greg would do in his retirement.
“You know he doesn’t think golf is a real sport. Maybe you need to come down here, and he and Greg can go together. Then Greg can show him how fun it can be,” said my mother. She always found a way to insert a suggestion for me to go to my hometown, Harper Fields, no matter what the conversation.
“I’d love to mom, but our vacation time is being used for the Virgin Islands,” I said, wondering if this vacation would actually take place. “Remember I leave on Friday.”
“That will be such a beautiful trip. Tia Ana used to say it was her dream to go back there one day to those crystal clear beaches,” my mother said, referring to her late aunt who had traveled the world extensively on her cheating, rich husband’s dime. They stayed together until his death— him flaunting his women to the world, her flaunting his money in everyone else’s face. It was such a farce, yet I suppose she must have accepted it. She got to experience many exciting and faraway places. I wondered if I could do that— know with certainty that Greg was sleeping with other women (including my best friend) and stay married to him because it was more convenient than being alone and poor.
“Tia Ana could have gone back if she wanted to,” I said.
“True. Audrey, I want you to tell me if you think you’ll be able to come home at all this year. I wanted to throw a retirement party for your father in September if you think you can make it.”
“Sure, mom, that should be fine. Let me know what weekend works best for you, and I’ll tell Greg,” I lied. Greg wouldn’t be coming.
We hung up, and when I got home, Greg was already in bed asleep. He left me a note on the kitchen counter like he sometimes did. It said, “Going to sleep early. I had a rough day and have to be in early tomorrow. Leftovers in the fridge. I love you.” I wanted to throw up on it. In fact, I wanted to wake him up and yell insults at him. I didn’t need any proof from Gus. All the small things we’d found between Harvey and me were enough. This façade had to end, or I would go out of my mind. I tore the note up and threw it in the trash. Then I looked up to see the pictures on the wall I had painstakingly chosen the loveliest frames for. Each picture showcased us, whether it was with our families or us alone— at a bed-and-breakfast a few hours away, on our honeymoon skiing in Vermont, on our wedding day.
I stared at that picture of our wedding, and the whole day played before my eyes like a movie. It was such a glorious day, everything perfect to a fault. The weather cooperated after there had been threats of a tropical storm, but it veered to the west just in time. The bridesmaids, including Natalie, all looked beautiful in their dresses and were such a joy to me. I smiled the entire night because I couldn’t help it. I was so wonderfully happy to be marrying my best friend surrounded by my family and friends. It was incredible how many people took the time to come to our celebration and danced the night away with us. Greg and I took center stage most of the evening as our friends danced around us. I don’t think I’d ever felt more loved. When we said our vows Greg choked up, and I’ll never forget how that made me cry all throughout my own vows. I’d never seen the video of our wedding again. I’d have to search for that someday. Someday… if we didn’t get divorced.
The harsh reality blindsided me, as it always did if I didn’t think about it for a while. It was like a bucket of cold water hitting my face every time I remembered. I needed to decide what I would do so I could be prepared for what I might hear from the PI. But for now, I wanted to forget again, about Greg, even about myself. I found my favorite sitcom on Netflix, settling in for a binge session since I had the afternoon shift again the next day.
The next two days were spent without Greg. I better get used to this, I thought. My mind shifted from divorce to forgiveness every five minutes. I was unsure of what to do with the information once it was laid out in front of me. I wanted to think that I could give Greg a sassy speech, and he would feel ashamed for the rest of his life, but I was afraid that I would be overly emotional and hurt. It was exhausting not knowing which way to act once I learned the truth. When I sat down to eat dinner alone on Wednesday night in front of the TV, I came to a conclusion. I would not teeter on the edge of indecision anymore. I knew what I would do.
The next morning I woke up still in agreement with what I had decided upon the night before. I could move forward now that I had a plan. Living in uncertainty was way more draining than anything else, like living in limbo. O
nce I was presented with the proof, I would adhere to my course of action because it would ultimately make me happy.
The PI was on the same flight back as Natalie and Greg. He was to meet Harvey and me again at the same restaurant Thursday in the early afternoon. The plane landed at 10 AM, but I told Greg I couldn’t meet him at the airport because of work. It was important I didn’t see him again until I saw the PI. I had arranged it so I could start my vacation from work one day earlier.
I was at the restaurant first, taking off my sunglasses and picking the first booth by the door when Gus and Harvey walked in. We said hello to be polite, but we all knew what we were there for, and there was no reason to delay. Harvey was staring at the manila envelope in Gus’s hand, and I was too. We sat down, and I waited for Gus to drop the bomb.
“I’ve been on two plane rides with them both. I’ve seen them at the hotel, at dinner, at the business meeting, at the airport. All hours of the day I kept watch, I took pictures…” he said as he pulled out several photographs of Greg and Natalie at dinner, at their meeting, at the hotel lobby. The pictures showed my husband and my best friend as they always looked. “… And I saw nothing to suggest either of them was having an affair, not with each other, not with anyone else either,” he concluded. It was quick, and it was over. And I did not understand.
“Wait, nothing at all? No sneaking into each other’s rooms?” Harvey asked, sounding more mad than relieved. I was in shock.
“I planted a camera in the hallway which had a view of both doors to their rooms. Not once did they go into each other’s rooms. I saw no evidence of anything physical, not even so much as a hug as they left the airport to go home, her in her car and him in a cab.”
“We live on the same block. Why wouldn’t they go home together?” I asked, trying to make sense of everything.
Harvey scratched his chin and said, “Natalie was going to the office from the airport.”
“If you need anything else from me you have my number,” Gus said, leaving us with the photographs.