by Kara Liane
Liezel
It’s Tuesday afternoon, and I’ve been at Alexi’s lake house for a few days now. It’s almost—and I reiterate almost—difficult to be miserable when you’re at a place like this, but my misery is warranted.
This two-story, multiple bedroom and bathroom, three-car garage house is like a mansion. I don’t even know how many rooms there are in total because I’ve never taken the time to count during the occasions I’ve been here; it’s probably rude of me to do so anyway. Let’s just say it’s huge and gorgeous. It’s a modern, meets chic, meets MTV Cribs-type deal—God, I used to love that show!
I was so embarrassed when Alexi asked me to take a leave of absence, but he was right. I needed a break from everyone and everything—not that I wanted a break from my kids, but they need me at my best, and right now I’m not at my best. Then when he offered me the place to escape and clear my head, I had to take him up on it. I figured sitting on the deck and watching the water would give me solitude and help me sort my crap out.
It gutted me that Caleb and I are over, but some things don’t last. I’ve learned that lesson one too many times.
It was difficult going to work on my birthday after the unbearable weekend I’d experienced. The kids did their best to cheer me up, but I was so broken. When Caleb’s delivery arrived, I never expected to get another gift from him. I still remember what the card said.
Dear Liz,
You are the rightful owner of this next gift. I was going to give it to you last night at dinner when we were accompanied by your three beautiful children.
I still want you to have it, and I only hope you’ll accept it. Its place is with you because it represents you.
Please know I’ll always be here for you and the kids no matter what. Take care of yourself.
Your faithful friend,
Caleb
P.S. – if you flip this card over, I have explained what each item signifies.
Inside the box, underneath the note, was a velvet case. I wondered if another piece of jewelry was inside. I opened the lid cautiously, and sure enough, nestled in there was a silver charm bracelet. I examined each one of the dangly items, and immediately my eyes were full of moisture. I didn’t think it was possible to cry so much given that I’m normally not a crier.
I ran my fingers across the dainty charms; they consisted of a piano, an owl, a stethoscope, a heart, and a unicorn. At first, I maybe understood all but the piano and unicorn. So, I remembered his card said he wrote the meaning on the back. I flipped it over and read it.
The piano is because I know you love Billy Joel, and hands down “Piano Man” is his best song.
The owl is for obvious reasons with your passion for them.
The stethoscope of course is for being a nurse.
The heart represents you as a mother and working in the field you do.
The unicorn is because there’s something magical about you, and I couldn’t believe a woman like you exists.
~ C.
I accepted the gift but not the man. I know he means well and tries to say and do the right things, but he doesn’t get the bigger picture. I don’t think I’m ready to let him back into my life even as a friend.
Recalling that day…eh, I’m already tired. I drag my sorry ass over to the bed in the enormous master bedroom and flop down on it. I thought I’d at least go in the hot tub, but I have no desire. Sleep. I need sleep…I need to forget.
***
I wake up a few hours later. I end up running to the drugstore and grab a salad from a nearby restaurant. Yup, I’m even too lazy to cook for myself, so you can imagine baking has been out of the question. It’s amazing how things I used to adore no longer hold the same joy.
I’ve been eating like a bird lately but forcing myself to at least get some nourishment. I finally convinced myself there must be something really wrong with me health-wise since I’ve been feeling sick. I’m not the type of person, or nurse, who will self-diagnose, though.
My suspicions are finally confirmed!
I’m staring at the two pink lines on the pregnancy test cradled in my hand, indicating a positive result. I’ve taken five of these damn things because I decided to grab multiple boxes and multiple brands, just to be sure. Obviously, I got pregnant from that first time we slept together. I’m sure it’s from when I attempted to put the condom on. I knew I sucked at it; it probably tore or something. I haven’t been on birth control since my early thirties because there was no need as the years went by.
I sit on the closed lid of the toilet seat and continue to hold the stick in my hand. For the last few weeks I’ve been thinking how I’m too old for Caleb. Well, clearly I’m not too old to have his baby. I sigh obnoxiously.
“Well, now you’ve really done it, Liz, and done it well,” I say aloud.
Surprisingly, I’m not upset. And I’m certainly not miserable about the result. If I really analyze this, I’m happy, believe it or not—only the circumstances aren’t ideal. Regardless, I love children. Of course, I never expected to give birth at forty-five, but I’m also not ancient. It’s perfectly doable nowadays. And it’s funny that I’ve felt so old for the last several weeks, and now all the sudden I’m justifying how young I am—life is ironic that way. I look upward and say to the heavens in my mind, I guess the joke’s on me, isn’t it?
I blow out a long breath as I realize the respectable thing to do is to tell Caleb. I owe it to him. I already know he’ll want to be involved in our child’s life. I can accept that. We can manage co-parenting. I’m not ready to tell him today. It will not be by phone; it will have to be in person. I might not even be ready to tell him tomorrow. But I will tell him, and I promise it won’t be when I’m in the labor and delivery ward!
I’m more afraid to tell my kids than anyone. I don’t know how they’ll feel. I will hope they’ll be accepting and awesome siblings. I will make sure they understand this child will not be their responsibility. If they help out, that’s great, but they’re not going to be expected to be the babysitters, and I certainly don’t want them changing their future plans for me.
I have a great job, great friends, and a wonderful support system. I will make this work. I did it once all those years ago with three little ones, so I can do it again, and this time I’ll only have one little one to chase around.
I smile and rub at my non-existent belly. A baby does change everything. I’m okay with that. He or she will be loved and cared for by both parents. One day at a time, I tell myself.
***
Caleb
May 4, 2018
It’s been three days since I went to see Alexi. I’m trying desperately to heed his advice to respect Liz’s need for time. I have so many things running through my head. All the things I want to say to her—all the different ways I want to say them. I will do my best to get her to understand that not just any woman will do for my wife.
I. Only. Want. Her.
If she’ll let me explain, and let me try again, I will do things differently this time. For one thing, I’ll make sure she knows how much I love her before I attempt to propose again. And next time, the proposal will go down perfectly. I can’t fathom that there won’t be a next time because I can’t imagine my life without her. She’s mine, and I’m hers. And that’s all there is to it!
Melanie knocks on my door. I finally gave her a five percent raise. It’s not much, and far less than she deserves, but the partners of this firm wouldn’t go any higher. When I’m promoted, there will be changes. My paralegal has been an angel in helping me get through my workload lately, and I make it a point to thank her often.
“Excuse me, Mr. Daniels,” she begins by addressing me formally, which means there must be someone within earshot.
“Yes, Melanie,” I acknowledge her.
“Mrs. Price is here to see you if you have time to meet with her,” she clarifies and gives me a sympathetic look because she knows I’m tired of this woman’s crap.
I mumble some c
urse words under my breath and give a wave, gesturing for Melanie to let the despicable woman in.
Mrs. Price breezes through the door, strutting her shit like she owns the place. She has those oversized Jackie O sunglasses on with an elaborate updo hairstyle. She removes the shades, and I don’t even want to look into her piercing eyes. I couldn’t even tell you the color because I don’t like looking at her that long.
The ivory trench coat she’s wearing—which is questionable given the current weather—is expensive-looking, and the blue handbag on her arm probably costs more than what most people make in a year. Her designer heels echo in my office, clacking on the floor as she makes her way over to me at my desk.
Normally I’d meet with her in a conference room, but I just want to get this over with as quickly as possible. I’m sure she has yet another issue with the agreement that will ultimately hinder the proceedings. If this is the situation, then I’m probably going to lose my chance of making partner because I’m going to have to drop her as a client.
I’m not willing to sully my reputation because of her. The judge is going to think this is another type of stall tactic, and I don’t want to find myself in contempt when we finally go before him because I’ll be bitching out my client in open court for all the stunts she’s pulled. This has gone too far and gone on too long. We’re set to have this all wrapped up in a month’s time, and I’ll be damned if she fucks this up on me again at the eleventh hour.
“Well, hello there, Caleb,” she says as she tries to make her red-stained lips pouty when she’s done greeting me.
I tip my head and reply a curt, “Morning, what can I do for you now?”
She smiles, and I feel like she should have flying monkeys and a broom somewhere in sight because surely she played in The Wizard of Oz. In my peripheral vision, I see Melanie still lingering in the doorway.
“Melanie, would you be a doll and give us a few minutes alone? I have something pressing to discuss with my attorney that I believe is privileged information,” she commands with a voice that sounds like nails on a chalkboard.
It’s asinine to have Melanie leave, but I won’t argue—my paralegal, by all rights, knows all the ins and outs of all my cases. My interest is piqued by what Mrs. Price said, though, because I’m wondering if she has something on Darron that might be useful when the final judgment is ruled upon. In my mind, I’m rubbing my hands together with a wicked grin, thinking this thing might finally come to an end. Melanie makes her exit.
“Before we begin, do you mind doing something for me? Can you please bring me a sparkling water? I would’ve asked Melanie, but I need privacy for this delicate matter. I’m sure you understand. By the way, I’ve been singing your praises to Clyde for weeks on end,” she conveys with a devilish grin.
Throwing my boss’s name into the mix certainly adds the element of giving her the upper hand. I have to admit, this woman knows what she’s doing. That’s why it’s served her well in her marriage and now impending divorce. She’s ruthless, always prepared for battle, and always one step ahead of me.
“Of course, Mrs. Price. Please feel free to sit down. I’ll be back momentarily,” I respond.
She laughs conceitedly as she sets her purse on the edge of my desk and explains, “Oh Caleb, you must call me Yvette. Surely we’re well-acquainted by now.”
I don’t like the sound of that. Internally, I’m grumbling like a son of a bitch because I’m not an errand boy either, but again I’ll kiss her ass…for now. I’m confident she’s not delaying anything by being here today, and for that I’m grateful—so grateful I’ll do just about anything to keep her happy. Maybe I can still pull off this promotion somehow.
I exit my own office, shutting the door behind me. I certainly don’t want any partners to see her and keep her here longer than necessary. They’ll expect me to take her out to wine and dine her, all part and parcel of the job. However, I can’t fake pleasantries all night with that woman.
I notice out of the corner of my eye that she closes the blinds so you can’t see in. How bizarre, I think. But I walk off in the direction of our kitchen anyway, which is fully stocked to accommodate our numerous clients—I don’t have sparkling water in my office. Thank God I won’t have to deal with her much longer!
***
Liezel
I returned from the lake house late last night. I will see my kids later today when they get home from school. I decided when I woke up this morning that I’d be brave and go talk to Caleb now that I got some rest and clarity.
It’s crazy to think that tomorrow I’ll be seven weeks pregnant. I’m in a good place for the most part. I’ve had a few days to adjust to the idea of the baby, and each day I find myself more and more elated about it. I’m nervous to see him again. I didn’t want to have to see him so soon, and I wouldn’t if it weren’t for the fact that I have to give him the good news.
I probably should have told him I was coming, but I may have chickened out if I heard his voice come across the phone line. I’ve only met his paralegal once, so I didn’t feel comfortable calling her directly either. I dropped off lunch to Caleb one time several weeks ago when I had a school function for Leah. So, on that occasion, I got to see his firm and meet Melanie.
His office building in Center City is beautiful and located in a lovely area. Traffic is a nightmare, but nothing I can’t handle. I park my car and finally make it to his floor. The receptionist, whose name I can’t for the life of me remember, waves me in. She must have a damn good memory because I’ve only been here that one time. I feel like a VIP or something as I stroll right into the place.
I walk down the hall to his office and notice Melanie isn’t at her desk. Hopefully I’ll be able to say hi to her on the way out—she’s a wonderful woman. I see Caleb’s office door and blinds are closed, which I’m hoping means he doesn’t want to be disturbed. I take this as a good sign, though, because he must be doing paperwork. He’s told me before that if he’s in a meeting, or with a client, he goes to a conference room to conduct business—the research and prep is done in his office.
I rap on the door a few times and hear a female voice say, “It’s about time; you’ve kept me waiting long enough.”
It doesn’t sound like Melanie, but it must be because who else could be in there? So, I enter anyway. As I swing the door open, I halt in my tracks.
Perched on Caleb’s desk is an elegant woman who looks like she’s in her forties, but her facelift is aiming for thirties. She’s wearing nothing but heels and a matching red lace bra and panty set. She even has garters and stockings on. This is a woman who’s here for sex and seduction.
My mouth hangs open in horror. I don’t see Caleb anywhere, so I momentarily feel a little better. I close my mouth, swallowing as I try to find my voice. Am I in the right place?
I stammer out, “I’m ssssorryyy, I must have the wrong office.”
She looks at me like I’m the dirt under her expensive shoes. I lick my suddenly dry lips and feel about two feet tall.
“If you’re looking for Caleb Daniels, he’ll be right back. He was just running to get me something to quench my thirst. That man is one talented attorney, and I intend to put his other skills to use. So run along now because we have business to tend to,” she relays with her tongue practically wagging at all the innuendos she’s delivering.
I’m sick to my stomach. Her dark red lipstick is making me dizzy. It’s an awful shade, and, despite her clear affluence, it makes her look whorish and cheap. I don’t know what to think right now. I’m so confused by everything.
I thought Caleb would go for a younger woman because of Courtney, and now he’s with someone my age—I’m puzzled by this scene. I guess Caylan was right about the older woman thing. And to top it off, he’s already moved on. I know I said I would accept that we’re not together, but deep down I never expected him to move on from me so quickly. This is so painful. I guess I was right when I told him any woman would do for a wife—here’s any w
oman.
I can’t say anything more to this stranger. I don’t even want to know who she is. I know what she wants, and that’s obviously Caleb for pleasure. And the fact he’s her lawyer disgusts me even more. There are certain lines you don’t cross, and this is one of them. I turn on my heel and run out, effectively slamming the door behind me.
I hear a woman in the distance calling my name, but I’m not stopping. It might have been Melanie calling out to me, but I can’t say for sure. No one else knows me here, so I suspect it was her. I’m proud I haven’t vomited. I make it into the elevator to start my descent to the parking garage, chanting to myself to breathe deeply.
I’m alone in the elevator, and I’ve never been more grateful because I have tears streaming down my face. I look down at my arm, and more tears flow as I examine my wrist. I claw at my hand, trying to get the damn bracelet off that Caleb gave me for my birthday. I was wearing it today as sort of a peace offering. Now I can’t even look at it, let alone wear it. I get it off and toss it in my purse as I’m brought to my floor to exit.
I get in my car and drive out of there faster than it took for that brunette in his office to take her clothes off. I leave the vicinity, heading to the on ramp for the bridge. God, I want to go home. I’m lucky I manage to drive through all the tears, but I’m trying for the sake of myself and my little one.
I rub my belly and send my apologies to the baby nestled in my womb. This is not how I expected the day to go. I feel like this is a nightmare I can’t wake up from. I never thought I’d feel this much love and hate at the same time. I pray I hold it together until I get home, and then I can thoroughly fall apart.
Chapter 22: Game On
Caleb
I shuffle back to my office. I’m equally torn because I want to know what Mrs. Price has to say, but I also don’t feel like entertaining her all day. I’ll have to try to get rid of her quickly once she imparts the information.