Whispering Waves

by Jamie Berris

  “Because most people don’t go around looking to see if their siblings look like other dads, that’s why.”

  “Keep reading. I want to hear every word, cover to cover.”

  July 14, 2009

  Okay, I’m not playing this off as a victim because I truly don’t remember a goddamn thing, but between my meds and the wine, I was clearly out of it! How could I even, you know, be an active partner? Did Marcus take full advantage of me? Or was I so out of it that I came on to him and then blacked out after the fact and have no memory?

  I’ve been considering calling Marcus, but that might just make this all worse. I guess that explains the tone in his voice when he left the voicemail two days afterward, asking if I was okay. I thought he sounded odd. I just figured he was mocking me a bit for being so drunk.

  He also had made a comment about wanting to be the one to bring me home instead of calling Kurt to pick me up because he didn’t want Kurt to visit the crime scene. Again, I thought he was just making a wise crack at my drunkenness.

  After telling Marissa that Marcus was going to be filing for divorce and seeing her so distraught, I had no intention of speaking to him again, so I ignored both his phone calls. I should have called him back. Maybe I could have found out sooner and . . . Ugh, I can’t even write it. What the hell. This is my place to vent it all. I could have ended the pregnancy immediately! Now I will probably lose my husband, my best friend, and who knows, maybe even my girls.

  I want to tell Kurt it’s not my fault, but I don’t even know if that’s the truth. I want to beg him for forgiveness, but I don’t even know if he will come home after work.

  What will it be like if he does walk through that door? Do we fake that everything is fine for the girls’ sake? Do we sit down and eat dinner as a family and try to make conversation? Ha, that’s assuming Kurt doesn’t come home, pack a bag, turn right around, and walk back out. Could he do that? Would I if I were in his shoes? Probably.

  Sadie covered her mouth with her hand and mumbled, “Holy . . .”

  “Shit,” Jayna finished.

  July 14, 2009

  The kids are busy swimming, and I’m sitting here in a lounge chair, crying behind my sunglasses. I think they sense something is up because they haven’t even asked me to get into the pool and play with them—that never happens!

  Marissa called and asked if she and Paige could hang out this afternoon. I told her I was doubled over with period cramps and was super cranky, so I wouldn’t be good company. Of course, she offered to come hang by the pool and watch the girls while I took a nap or went for a massage or something. I turned her down.

  Maybe it’s my paranoia, but I felt like she could sense something. Probably because I never turn her down. We see each other at our worst all the time and help each other out. She even argued with me a bit and teased, “Where is Lydia, and what have you done with her?” If she only knew . . . and when will she?

  Is Marcus going to tell her? Kurt would never go that route. Will I have to be the one? How long can I avoid it? We are supposed to play tennis in the morning. Do I cancel? Do I play and act like nothing has happened? She and Paige always come over to swim after tennis . . .

  I know this is crazy, or maybe not, but maybe Kurt would agree to uprooting his family and moving us thousands of miles away. Maybe we ought to just leave the country and start over. Here I go again, assuming I still have a husband and a family.

  Sadie kept the book in her hand and jumped up to lock the door. She suddenly realized her dad could walk in at any minute, even if it was almost two in the morning. There was no way she was going to give this diary up until she read the entire thing. Her dad would have to break the door down if he wanted it.

  She already made the decision that she wasn’t going to keep quiet about any of this. First thing in the morning she was going to confront her dad.

  July 14, 2009

  Well, there was no need to worry about awkwardness between Kurt and me in front of the kids because he sent me an email that said he was working late and wouldn’t be home for dinner. I needed a distraction, so I took the girls to get Italian takeout, and we had a picnic in town by the dam and got ice cream. Not that all this garbage left my mind for the entire evening, but from time to time, I think I may have gone a good two minutes without condemning myself.

  So here I am again, sitting outside by the pool, this time looking up at the stars and writing by the glow of the lantern. What a beautiful, blessed, peaceful life I had until I screwed it all up. My marriage wasn’t perfect, no one’s is, but it was darn good, with a lot of love, respect, and trust. Will I ever even get a chance to earn Kurt’s trust back?

  When I tucked Sadie and Jayna in bed, I couldn’t help but wonder if I have ruined their future too. Have I single-handedly destroyed everything we’ve worked so hard to create? Our goal has been simple: to bring them up in a loving, secure home where they will develop good morals and values. It would be nice if their mother could model that! What do I say to them? “I swear it was a mistake! I never would have done what I did in a right, conscious state of mind. I was foolish. I’m not used to drinking large quantities, and I didn’t realize the effect that mixing alcohol and Xanax would have on me.”

  Marissa texted me a couple of times this afternoon to check in and see if I was feeling better. Every text I get from her makes this whole mess worse. I wonder how long it will be until the texts from Marissa stop, well, at least the friendly ones. She begged me to not back out of our doubles match in the morning. How am I going to be able to look her in the eye?

  July 15, 2009

  It’s only 11:38 a.m., and all I can think about is getting this day over with and going to bed. Kurt came home just before midnight last night and never even came into the bedroom. I heard him out in the kitchen, and I couldn’t force myself to go out there. I couldn’t face him! And I figured he didn’t want to face his pregnant wife, either.

  The more I think about it, the more I want to know about Marcus and Kurt’s meeting. Did Kurt scream at him? Did he take a few swings? Or did they talk openly and honestly? Was Marcus apologetic? Or was he arrogant about it? I can’t and won’t call Marcus. It only makes me look and feel guilty. I pray this baby looks nothing like the bastard. I never want to hear his voice or see his face again.

  I felt like I had the word “guilty” written all over my face at tennis. I was trying too hard to act normal, and I came across acting a phony, fake happy. I felt like I was going to get sick the entire time, and I played like crap. I’m usually the one that hates to lose and Marissa blows it off, but I was acting all giddy, saying stupid things like we needed a loss because we were getting too threatening and our heads were getting too big. She finally looked at me and asked if I was okay because I was super chatty, almost nervous chatty.

  As we were walking to our cars, Marissa made a comment about being sick of waiting for Marcus to file for divorce. It’s not a new comment. She has been saying it for weeks. She knows it’s coming. They have talked about it, and he told her that he wanted out, but she refuses to be the one to file. So basically, every day she waits in agony.

  I completely ignored her, acted like I didn’t hear her, and I could see her glance awkwardly at me out of the corner of my eye. She probably figures I’m sick of hearing about it because she didn’t say another word. I have a feeling the papers will be arriving sooner than she thinks.

  July 15, 2009

  I need to vent again today. I’m as close to hyperventilating as I ever have been. What an afternoon! First Marissa and Paige stopped by after their shopping spree at the Rockford sidewalk sales. Again, I felt like I was trying too hard to act normal, and I felt like Marissa was eyeing me suspiciously. I overdid the oohs and aahs when she showed me her new handbag and shoes.

  When Paige and the girls started swimming in the pool, I insisted on going in and blending us a margarita even though she said “No” twice since she had to leave to pick her mother up from the airpo
rt in thirty minutes. So I hurried inside anyway and blended a quick virgin for myself and added the tequila to hers. Why did I have to be so adamant and try to act not pregnant when she has no idea I am? It’s draining! So I sucked mine down super-fast and made some stupid comment about needing that to relax after getting creamed this morning in tennis. Again, overdoing it . . .

  Now, I’m nervously sitting here waiting for Kurt to get home. He called me a couple of hours ago and asked me to go drop the girls off at his sister’s house. He called her earlier and asked her if the girls could have a sleepover so we could have a night out. Stacy was thrilled when I dropped Sadie and Jayna off. Her boys are both in high school, and she’s always saying she wished she’d tried one more time for a daughter.

  She questioned me about where we were going for dinner, and I told her Kurt was surprising me. Stacy then commented on how sweet and romantic her brother was and teased me that I was lucky to have him. Under normal circumstances, I would have laughed it off, and of course agreed, but instead I felt like I had just gotten stabbed: knife inserted, twisted, and slowly pulled out!

  So, here I sit and wait for Kurt to pull into the driveway and wonder if this is the day he tells me he wants a divorce. Maybe I’ll get my papers before Marissa gets hers. The longer I sit, the more my mind races. Would he seek custody of the girls? Will I be living alone with this baby? Will my own daughters disown me?

  Sadie paused and wiped a tear from her cheek before turning the page. “This is too much. How could all of this have happened and we were so blind?”

  Jayna sniffed. “Maybe some secrets are better kept a secret!” but they both knew there was no turning back now.

  July 16, 2009

  I am so drained. My head is pounding from lack of sleep and all the crying I did last night. Kurt went into work late this morning. He made sure I ate breakfast, attempting to make me a toasted egg sandwich. It was a flop, but I ate it anyway, with more love, admiration, and respect than I have ever had for him.

  Luckily, Stacy asked if she could bring the girls home after dinner tonight, saying she had a special day planned for them. Of course, I took her up on it, dreaming of taking a nap followed by floating on a raft all afternoon.

  Last night was horrible and wonderful all rolled into one. Kurt walked in the door with a bag of Chinese takeout, which sat on the kitchen counter, untouched for hours. He went and changed, got himself a beer, and suggested we go out to the porch. After a deep sigh, he gave me a hug, and at that moment, I knew I hadn’t lost him, at least not physically.

  When I began to speak, basically pleaded through tears, he put a hand over my mouth and said he gets to be the one to talk first. He told me about showing up on Marcus’s boat after sitting at the bar, ready to tear his head off. He was glad he didn’t because he never would have gotten the truth or the apology. Not that it will ever change the outcome or his hatred for Marcus, but it probably saved our marriage.

  Kurt admitted he blew up. He went on a rampage and overturned a small table Marcus had set up on the boat deck holding a makeshift bar with wine and liquor bottles. Marcus stood calmly as the bottles exploded around him. When Kurt went after Marcus with his fist, he stopped short and took a long look in Marcus’s eyes. He said he felt something come over him; he knew it wasn’t worth it. He had to hear it for himself. Why? Why, after all these years of being friends . . .? Even though it was a friendship created through their wives, how could he do this? They had hung out for decades, gotten to know each other well through barbeques, golf outings, dinners, births, and vacations.

  Sitting at the bar, Kurt had thought hard about two things in particular. One, Marcus was a cheater. He had known Marcus was fooling around on Marissa from time to time for the last several years. It wasn’t his business, so he’d stayed out of it. He knew if he told me I would tell Marissa, which is correct, and Kurt figured it was only a matter of time before they were divorced anyway, since Marissa was always crying to me. Our “couples” dates and vacations were already getting a bit strained because of their fighting. I guess guys are just wired differently, what can I say?

  The other thing Kurt told me he had thought about at the bar, which is making me cry all over again, is that he knows me, and he knows I love him and would never cheat on him . . . voluntarily. And as I had prayed he would, he did compare the situation with my Chicago blackout and how, to this day, I still don’t remember anything about returning to the hotel, our amazing romp, and blacking out.

  So, to this he asked me to tell him what I do remember. I told him I remembered driving there, and I emphasized it was per Marissa’s request, which Kurt knew anyway. Kurt had even told me that evening that I should just stay out of it. But I went anyway, for Marissa, because she is my best friend, and that’s what we do for each other. She begged me to talk to her husband, begged me to go to the boat, so I did.

  I went on to tell him that Marcus and I basically talked about their marriage being over. Marcus was sick of the marriage counseling and basically didn’t love her anymore, and he didn’t even want to try and work it out. I had told Kurt all this the very next day, because I was dreading facing Marissa with the truth she didn’t want to hear.

  Anyway, I told Kurt I remember Marcus opening bottle after bottle of wine and me telling him that I couldn’t have anymore because I had a long drive home. He said not to worry, that we’d eat something, and one more glass wouldn’t hurt. It did. It will hurt many people for the rest of their lives!

  I told Kurt I remember Marcus bringing up crackers and dip and that he kept topping off my wine, saying I’ve always been so uptight, that I needed to relax and enjoy the moment from time to time. I remember thinking he was right. It was a beautiful night and what was the big deal? I also remember thinking if I loosened up, so would he, and the more dirt I’d get out of him to relay back to Marissa.

  At one point, Marcus even said we should call Kurt and tell him to come out. I couldn’t look at Kurt as I told him this. Of course, he was at home with the girls that night and couldn’t leave them.

  I vaguely remember Marcus and Kurt helping me inside, but I don’t remember getting into Marcus’s car, him driving me home, or how I got into bed.

  Kurt had asked Marcus how he could do something like this. His reply was quite simple. He said he had gotten caught up in the moment and he kissed me. He was so upset with Marissa that it could have been partly to get back at her. Marcus admitted to Kurt that he made a mistake, but he swore it had nothing to do with Kurt. He was regretful and knew he was in the wrong.

  When Kurt told Marcus I was pregnant, he didn’t even argue that it wasn’t his. Marcus knew that Kurt had gotten a vasectomy years ago. It was a joke between the two of them for a long time because Marcus was adamant about not “capping his bubbles,” as he called it.

  Other words were spoken, but the bottom line was Kurt threatened that, if Marcus didn’t keep his mouth shut and move far away, he would make his life a living hell. Even though they didn’t work out of the same office, Marcus was in the same line of commercial real estate for a sister company. Kurt had gotten him the job about five years ago, and he could easily help him lose it.

  He told him he had better find a way to keep Marissa’s mouth shut too, because he knew how women could be, wanting to spread gossip all over town, trying to get women to take sides (basically hate me). Kurt reminded Marcus how expensive child support is and how hard it would be to pay Marissa if he lost his job, so if she were to go blabbing the truth, she would suffer in more ways than one.

  I was slightly confused, wondering if this meant we were going to tell Marissa or just try and keep it from her. I suggested we lie and tell her that Kurt’s vasectomy was no good. I think I even had Kurt convinced for a few minutes that it could possibly work. He quickly pointed out that he and Marcus look nothing alike. Marcus is Italian with dark skin, hair, and eyes, unlike Kurt’s green eyes and sandy hair. If Marissa ever questioned it and did the math, this baby’s due dat
e would be dead on.

  Kurt looked me in the eye and told me telling Marissa was the right thing to do. It made me feel like a cheater all over again, like complete scum. I know I’m only trying to justify it to myself, but wouldn’t telling her only hurt her more than she is already hurting? I can’t help but wonder if he wants me to tell her as part of a punishment. I will do whatever it takes to keep him from leaving me.

  So, I’m relieved that my marriage isn’t over. Yes, it’s going to be a long rocky road, especially through this pregnancy, and I have no idea what the delivery room will entail, let alone the years to come in this child’s life. I guess time will tell and we’ll take it one day at a time.

  My agony over Marissa is mounting by the minute. I can’t keep this a secret for much longer. It won’t be long before I start to show, and I know she’ll get served with divorce papers soon. I can’t sit around and listen to all of that while I’m carrying Marcus’s child.

  I’ve heard of women being in scandals, having affairs, catching their husbands cheating, and I’ve known one or two that have strayed. Even though I don’t consider myself as having had an affair, I still carry the responsibility of creating a huge mess. To think I’m capable of hurting Kurt and Marissa to the degree I have kills me. Not that I’m solely to blame, because it takes two, and Marissa and Marcus were on the brink of divorce anyway, but I can’t help but feel like a home-wrecker, and the fact that it’s my best friend is unbearable.

  Now the big question is how am I going to tell her? Kurt told Marcus that I was going to be the one to tell her so he couldn’t lie or twist the truth. So, do I do it face to face? Ask her over? Go to her house? Meet her for lunch or at a park? Will she believe me that I blacked out because of my medication? How would she react if I told her I believe Marcus took advantage of me? Would she call me a liar and defend him?

  Ha! As I’m writing this, she is calling me on my cell. I let it go to voicemail. She asks if I want to hit the beach tomorrow with the kids.