Sex Happens

by Carol Soloway

  “I’ll explain later,” Leventhal said.

  Gabe and his attorney got up and left the courtroom.

  Unable to move, Alex looked up at Leventhal. “How did this happen?”

  “It usually takes months to obtain an appointment with a forensic psychologist,” Leventhal said. “But I’m glad it’s Weisbarth. His reports are solid, and his recommendations often favor the mother.”

  “Why didn’t you make an appointment with him for me?” Alex asked.

  “I didn’t know it would come to this,” Leventhal said.

  CHAPTER 22

  On Saturday afternoon, the boys went to Alex’s house to pack up their things. Although the judge mandated her visits were to be limited to Wednesday and Saturday afternoons, Gabe conceded and agreed to let the boys stay with her until 9:00 p.m. in order to pack everything they’d need—that is, as long as Seth was there to supervise.

  In his new role as court-appointed monitor, Seth was supportive without being intrusive. After dinner, he insisted on doing the dishes and told Alex to go up to the boys. As she walked upstairs to help the boys pack up the last few remnants of their lives in her home, her heart pounded.

  On her way down the hall to Jon’s room, she heard Eric and Jon shouting at each other.

  “Gimme it,” Jon demanded. “Ahh.”

  “They’re mine,” Eric said.

  “Give!” Jon shrieked.

  Alex entered the older boys’ bedroom. Glancing down at the floor, she saw, between shredded wads of packing paper, the miniature figurines on the beige carpet. She picked up the two-inch porcelain cow that stood upright, holding flowers in its hooves. Then she looked at the one-inch telephone with a dial that moved.

  “Mom, can’t I have them?” Jon asked, a glass unicorn disappearing within his tiny hand.

  “No one takes these.” Alex cupped her hands over Jon’s clenched fist. “They belonged to my father’s sister, and they’re very special to me. That’s why I put them in the hall closet. Why did you take them out?”

  “Why can’t I have ’em?” Eric asked.

  “Because something like this could happen, and they might break. My dad waited until I was old enough before he gave them to me.”

  “Mom, I’m old enough.” Eric scowled at Jon. “I’ll be careful to keep them away from him.”

  “I’m keeping these figurines until you boys are old enough and won’t fight over them,” she said, recalling the day her father had given them to her. That was the day she’d discovered the truth about her father. When he’d taken her downstairs to the basement to show her the figurines, that was when she’d found the box of books. And that was when she’d turned over the photograph that was tucked inside a book, the inscription revealing all the secrets of his life. From that photograph, she’d learned how he’d had to choose between a “normal life” and love. And it was love that had lost.

  “Why can’t I play with them?” Jon whined.

  Quickly, before the memory ghosts once again held her within their grasp, she scooped up the figurines.

  “Don’t worry, Mom.” Daniel leaned over and hugged her. “It’s not forever.”

  “What are you talking about?” Eric scowled at Daniel. “You wanted to go to Dad’s too.”

  “Shut up,” Daniel said.

  “Like you didn’t want to move too.” Eric gave him the finger. “You know what Dad told you.”

  “Be quiet,” Daniel said.

  Wanting to ask what Gabe had said but fearing that the telling would give his story more credence, she said, “I love you guys.”

  “Love you, Mom,” Daniel called out.

  As she went to Jon’s room to finish putting his stuff in cartons, she paused. Paralyzed, she stared into the one picture of Gabe with the boys that still remained on the hallway wall. Although she knew Gabe had said he’d never let any stepdad raise his boys, she wondered why his vengeance had pushed him to this point. She’d trusted him with her secrets, trusted him with her fears, and this was how he guarded them! He’d probably continue to convince the boys they shouldn’t trust her. She also knew the boys had to be confused, and they were too young and powerless to stand up to a father like Gabe.

  Seth came upstairs and put his arm around her. “How are you holding up?”

  “I’m fine,” she said.

  “You were lost in thought,” he said. “Want to talk?”

  “I can’t,” she said, tears welling. She went to Jon’s room and continued to pack. As she picked up Jon’s last toy, she thought maybe he’d start crying and refuse to go with Gabe. He needed to be with his mother, but then she had to face the reality—the court order had to be obeyed.

  The chiming of the doorbell jarred her.

  She ran downstairs and opened the front door. Stunned by the presence of a U-Haul truck, she scowled at Gabe. “How much stuff do you think the boys will need until the hearing, and don’t you remember what the judge said about the boys taking just enough for school and sports?”

  Overly cheerful, Gabe said, “Never can tell. I thought the boys might need the truck.” He walked past her and followed the boys to their rooms. They carried cartons and suitcases downstairs and hoisted them into the truck.

  Alex’s chest tightened. She loathed Gabe for creating this carnage, but she bit back her rage. She would vent, but not in front of her children.

  As they were taking the last few boxes, she turned to Gabe. “I have one question for you.”

  He looked at her as he’d look at a fly that landed on his shoulder right before he flicked it off. “What is it?”

  “Why?”

  “Townsend,” he said and started to walk out.

  “I’m not Townsend’s wife. I’d never turn the boys against you,” Alex said.

  “I couldn’t take that chance.”

  She reached out to touch his arm. “I’d never …”

  He turned and walked away.

  Alex forced herself to breathe.

  Daniel ran back to hug her. Jon followed. She embraced them.

  Gabe shouted, “Let’s go home!”

  She turned to Seth. “I really need to be alone.”

  “Alex, you don’t have to be strong with me.” He hugged her.

  “I certainly wasn’t strong,” she said. “I just let Gabe walk all over me.”

  “No one demeans you,” he corrected.

  “That’s at work. That’s different. There, I’m in control.”

  “Alex, you believe people are going to do the right thing, and when they don’t, you’re shocked.”

  “I can’t do a lecture right now. I’m hurting and need to cry—alone.”

  He kissed her forehead and left.

  After shutting the door, she climbed the stairs to Jon’s room in a state of shock and collapsed onto his bed. Pressing her nose to Jon’s pillow, she inhaled his baby-powder scent. Then she rolled over and stared down at the carpet. She saw the white plaster-of-Paris cast of Jon’s little hand that he’d brought home from nursery school just the other day. She reached down, grabbed the cast, and flung it across the room. Then she cried as the silence in the house enveloped her with its ghostly screams.

  CHAPTER 23

  As Alex wandered from empty room to empty room, the home she’d loved suddenly seemed cold and uninviting. Jarred by the phone, she ran to pick it up. “Seth, I’m doing fine,” she said.

  “It’s Luke, and just how much does Seth call you?”

  “I thought it was Seth because he saw how upset I was when the boys left.”

  “You need me there with you,” he said. “I’ll be right over.”

  “No,” she said. Usually willing to do whatever anyone asked of her, she was firm. The only one she needed to talk to right now was Liz. She hung up the phone and dialed her best friend.

  Thirty
minutes later, Alex opened the door and folded into Liz’s arms. “My world just collapsed.”

  “You’re going to be okay,” Liz said.

  “There was nothing I wanted more than this family, this life. Gabe was my world. I believed in him. All I wanted to do was please him.”

  “Why?” Liz asked.

  “Does it matter?” Alex sobbed. “Look what happened, and he was the only person to ever tell me he loved me.”

  “I don’t get it. I need a glass of wine for this one.” Liz pulled out a bottle of Merlot from her purse and handed it to Alex. “What about your parents? They must have told you they loved you.”

  “My father was wonderful, but if he ever showed affection, my mother would …” Alex looked at Liz. “My mother abused me.” There, she said it.

  “How?” Liz asked.

  Alex held out her wrist.

  Liz gasped. “You never said anything about that. I just assumed it was some childhood accident. Are there more?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where?”

  “My butt. I think she burned me there so no one could see. She knew if she burned me there, I’d never show my father.”

  “Alex, I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I’ve never told anyone—except Gabe. I was so ashamed.”

  “Ashamed of what?”

  “At first, I thought maybe I deserved it. I thought I needed to try harder to please my mother.” Alex looked at Liz. “I kept trying, but she’d just get more and more angry. I felt there had to be something wrong with me if I couldn’t get my mother to love me.”

  “Amazing how a parent can scar a child—not just physically.” Liz hugged her.

  “I believed I was broken, screwed up. I believed my mother would never have hurt me unless I’d done something terrible. I’d even cover up for her. The first time a teacher asked me what had happened, I told her the iron fell on me. Then it became easier. When I couldn’t sit down because my mother burned me, I told my teacher I had a bad fall from my bicycle.”

  “Why’d you protect your mother?”

  “She threatened me. She said if I ever told anyone, especially my father, then she’d hurt me more. I was terrified.”

  “Did Gabe ever abuse you?”

  “Of course not. He promised me our family would be different. He told me he understood why I was so insecure, and …”

  “What?”

  “When we were just freshmen in college, I thought he was so understanding, and I had sex with him.” Alex cried. “I felt loved for the first time. I wanted to do whatever it took to please him.”

  “Oh my God.” Liz hugged her.

  “What?”

  “Stockholm syndrome,” Liz said.

  “No,” Alex said. Her heart pounded, her hands started to shake, and tears flowed.

  “Alex, you were abused, and then Gabe rescued you. You even said you’d do anything to please him.”

  “This has nothing to do with Stockholm syndrome,” Alex said, tears filling her eyes.

  “Alex, don’t you remember Manson would have sex with the women, and that was how he controlled them?”

  “Right,” Alex said, uncomfortable with the possibility Liz’s insight was accurate. “The women all fell in love with him and would do anything. I …”

  “Gabe was your rescuer,” Liz said.

  Alex looked at her best friend and admitted: “In a sense, he did control me. And whenever he’d get distant or angry, I’d always think it was something I had done—my fault.”

  “Why did you put up with it?” Liz asked.

  “He was just like my mother. He’d be so nice for a while, loving and …”

  “Alex, it’s classic.”

  “That isn’t the kind of classic I was striving for.”

  “You chose someone just like your mother.” Liz shook her head.

  “I didn’t choose him. He choose me. I …”

  “Alex, what do you want? Really want?”

  “My children.”

  “You’ll get them. I promise. You have the First Friday Book Club behind you.”

  “I’m so sorry I didn’t stay with that first attorney, Mr. Dorset.”

  “I remember asking you why, and all you did was defend Gabe.”

  “I didn’t think I could go through litigation. I didn’t have the money for a protracted divorce. One doctor paid a hundred thousand for his divorce.”

  “But Alex, your practice is going well. I don’t get it.”

  “While we were married, Gabe took care of all the finances. I’ll never be this naïve again. I believed Gabe when he told me that the partners would fire him if there were an investigation of the practice. Then, he said, he wouldn’t be able to pay me anything.”

  “Bluffing!”

  “I finally see him for who he really is. Why did I allow him to walk all over me?”

  “You don’t have to be a victim anymore,” Liz said.

  “Victim?” Alex looked at her friend and knew she was right. She’d really been a victim as a child, but as an adult, she no longer had to be.

  “You have too much to offer, and your children need a strong mother.”

  “Liz, I want the boys to love me, but I also want them to respect me. Gabe has been trying to destroy me in their eyes. I’m not going to let him do it.”

  “You allowed him to walk all over you when you were young and vulnerable, but you’re not the person he married.”

  “And he definitely isn’t the man I married. Now, I’m going to take care of my boys. They might not live with me—for the time being—but whenever I see them, I’m going to do whatever is needed. I am still their mother.”

  “I can feel your resolve, and I love it.” Liz hugged her and left.

  Alex went upstairs to her room, wondering how love had brought her to this. Tossing and turning, she thought about the night in the Bellagio when she went to bed waiting for her husband—her lover and best friend—only to wake and find that he was none of those. Yes, she’d thought she was secure in Gabe’s world until it was too late—until his heart found another home. Armed with a new determination, she decided she was going to build a home for herself and, eventually, the boys.

  CHAPTER 24

  Monday morning. Alex knew work would save her. She had a reason to abandon her bed, brush her teeth, and comb her hair. Her patients needed her.

  She pulled into Starbucks and waited in the long line, absently humming Jon’s favorite song, “The Wheels on the Bus.” She purchased lattes for Seth and herself and got into the car.

  Lattes secured in the holders in the Land Cruiser, she drove out of the shopping center. Almost missing a red light, she slammed on the brakes. Reflexively, she reached across the passenger seat, her right hand outstretched to protect whichever one of the boys was sitting in the front seat. But the boys were gone. She thought it amazing how such an ordinary act could remind her she’d lost her place in the novel that had been her life.

  As she pulled into her parking space at the office, she noticed Seth hadn’t arrived yet. She threw her purse over her shoulder, grabbed the three patient charts she’d taken home to work on, and climbed out of her car. Balancing the lattes and charts, she took the elevator to her office. When she opened the office door, Rebecca took the charts from her.

  Seth arrived a few minutes later, pristine in a starched powder-blue shirt and perfectly pressed tan slacks. “Hello, ladies.” He reached for his latte. “Thanks, Alex,” he said, even more softly than usual.

  “You’re welcome,” she said, comforted by their ritual. It reassured her that some things were going to remain the same even if her world had completely changed this weekend.

  “Nice outfit,” he said, looking at her light-blue blouse and tan slacks that mirrored his own. They often arr
ived at the office in similar attire. Whenever patients saw them dressed alike, they’d ask if they were a couple. She’d laugh, but Seth would get quiet and turn away.

  Alex and Seth moved to the end of the hallway to the spot where Rebecca posted their daily patient schedule. While reviewing the list of patients, they sipped coffee together—their ritual. Standing close to him, Alex inhaled his scent: clean, fresh, like the color yellow.

  Seth cleared his throat. “On Sunday, I checked out your tennis club.” A compact man with the body of a runner, he was a seasoned tennis player.

  “Did you like it?” She hoped he didn’t. Luke became possessive whenever other men approached her. Luke probably—no, definitely—wouldn’t accept the fact that she and Seth had a purely platonic relationship.

  “Alex, I’m not sure if you’re ready to lose to me at tennis,” Seth teased.

  “Dream on,” she said and followed him to his office. “Seth, could you cover for me on Friday morning?”

  “Sure. What’s going on?” he asked.

  “I’m going to a concert Thursday night, and it’ll run late.” Except for the First Friday Book Club meetings and the boys’ events, she’d never asked Seth to cover for her.

  She didn’t want to explain that Luke might stay over on Thursday night, and she was looking forward to it. Ever since the boys had moved out, he would usually come over after tennis and stay for just a few hours. After he’d leave, she’d walk from empty room to empty room, determined the boys would soon return.

  Although he’d never stay the night, he did mention that the concert would be a special night. She imagined spending the night with Luke, curled up next to him in bed, his muscular thighs against the backs of her legs and his long, sensitive fingers trailing over her body. Then, during the night, he’d brush against her, and they’d take each other with an urgency that defied the spent passion of just a few hours earlier.

  “I’m jealous,” Seth said, interrupting her fantasy.

  “Why?” she asked, wondering why he’d be jealous about her going out with Luke.

  “St. Clair’s conducting Beethoven’s Ninth, and I really wanted to go, but it’s sold out.”