by Marilyn Grey
Sometimes I could handle the hard truth, the realities that made the average person want to crawl into a hole and die. For the last year I handled Andy’s disappearances and odd secrets, wondering whether he was crazy or really being chased and followed by some gang related to a bank scandal. It made sense. He really testified in court. He really had people bothering him. They even put graffiti on our house one day. For so long he allowed himself to fall victim to anxiety over the court case and it messed with his mind and made him believe people were out to get him. And sometimes I believed him. Brief moments here and there, I believed him. Really thought some insane people were after us. I saw black cars in front of my house all the time. Weird stuff. Men following me. Maybe it was all in my head, because apparently a lot of it was all in Andy’s head.
But all this time, all these days without him, he was dying. His body degenerating by the second, without him knowing. The poor thing suffered and didn’t even know what was going on. He believed whatever truths the hallucinations played in his mind. All the while, I was falling in love with another man.
I hated myself for it. One-hundred percent hated myself for it.
Ch. 26 | Patrick
You ever notice how single life is so different from “taken” life? When you’re heart is set on someone else you go to the grocery store and ignore all the other girls. You see a container of orange juice and think of breakfast with your girl. You see apples and think of the time you sat under the apple tree. Everything reminds you of that person. And if it doesn’t, you find a way to make it remind you of her. Then, you’re single. And everything you see makes you feel like crap, so much that you desperately want to start new memories with a new person, just to erase the others. Before other girls were invisible, but now I walked through the grocery store and saw every curve of every woman. From the petite blonde near the potatoes to the tall brunette by the cereal. Suddenly every woman became a potential eraser of past memories.
I couldn’t bring myself to meet my secret admirer girl. Maybe because of the pressure. She said from day one that we would be great together, soul-mates with unfathomable passion. That’s asking for failure. It sets up too much tension and takes away everything natural about falling in love. So, when I saw the cute little redhead standing by the bottled water, I asked her to go on a date with me.
She crinkled her nose, looked me up and down, and put her sparkly engagement ring an inch from my eyeball. Embarrassed, and half annoyed at myself, I walked away and emailed Secret Admirer from the checkout line, then erased it again.
Maybe what I missed most was my friend. Heidi and I were never more than friends. Not even sure how I knew I loved her. All I knew is living without her was worse than dying.
Enough of Heidi.
Enough of it all.
For once, I wanted to kiss something other than my pillow on Valentine’s Day. Is that so much to ask?
Nora called and asked me if she could come visitagain. She’d be in the area for an audition in New York and wanted to take a road trip so she could stop by Philly. When she arrived I hugged her and tried not to inhale too much of her sweet smell. A woman’s smell has the power to intoxicate a man, and I wasn’t in the mood for intoxication.
“Did you want to meet up with Miranda?” she said. “She just texted me and I’d like to see her before I leave tomorrow. I know it’s been a long drive and I’ll probably hang out with you guys more on the way back, but I need to do something right now. Car rides make me think too much. I need to not think.”
I shrugged. She pointed to my car, so we got in and drove to Miranda’s, picked her up, and drove to a local diner. Everyone ordered. The girls talked while I sat there, the man in the middle, the man disguised as a girl. One of the ladies. The best friend guy. They guy no one ever falls in love with because he’s too nice. Made me want to do something bad. To flip out and slam someone across the table, demanding some horrible meaningless sex. Just to say, “Hey, I’m still a dude. I do, in fact, have a penis.”
Nora stopped talking and looked at me. “What are you laughing at?”
Did I laugh out loud? I laughed again. “Nothing.”
“Are you having conversations inside of your head?” Miranda asked. “You know they have meds for that.”
She did that thing women do when they flirt. You know, when they blink their eyes slowly as they grin. Head tilted just so, one finger touching the rim of her drink.
“Are you flirting with me?” I said, mocking her as I smiled and rubbed my glass. “Sure seems like it.”
She flipped her bright hair behind her shoulder and laughed. Nora laughed too. And they both waited for me to say something else. I tapped the table and pointed to Nora. “What about your love life? Anything going on there?”
“I’ve got someone,” she said, looking down. “Not sure how it will work out. He’s into someone else. I don’t know. Taking it slow. Waiting for him to lead.”
“What’s he like?” Miranda said.
She looked at me. “Kind of like you.”
Miranda looked at me.
“What’s everyone looking at me for? I’m just the teddy bear girls like to hold when they’re lonely, but shove aside when the big sexy man comes along to save the day.”
“No,” Miranda said. “You don’t give yourself enough credit. You’re a great guy. You deserve someone special. So, what do you want in a girl?”
“I don’t have a list.”
“Not even a few qualities?” Nora said.
“No qualities. No hair color preferred. No height. No ideal bra or butt size. No specific hobbies or interests.”
“Then what do you want? How do you know when you find someone worth dating?”
“Chemistry.”
“As in biology, chemistry, physics?” Miranda said. “My favorite subjects ever.”
“As in … laughter, tears, smiles. Everything feels right with her. I can’t explain it. The world just stops. Everything freezes. It’s me. It’s her. It’s just us. Everything else, every molecule, including the oxygen we breathe, is only secondary to the chemistry we create. When we watch a movie it’s more than images strung together in the form of mindless entertainment. It’s an experience. An experience we share together from making the popcorn to watching the film to talking about it for days after. Chemistry. What more can I say? You either have it or you don’t.”
They stared at me, eyes wide, jaws almost to the table. I guess the teddy bear could pull some romance out after all. Hidden underneath heaps of mud-slathered unrequited love. The teddy bear is a real man! I laughed again.
Miranda shook her head. “And people say I’m weird.”
Ch. 27 | Heidi
The doctor officially diagnosed Andy with Fatal Familial Insomnia. That didn’t stop Andy from his paranoia though. He believed a gang still wanted to kill him. Maybe this is a little crazy, but I went along with it to make him feel better.
After sleeping in the apartment for the fifth night I asked the doctor if there was any way we could move Andy to Pennsylvania. “I’m sorry,” he said. “The drive would be too much for him and sometimes they can be dangerous at this stage. You remember the incident at the hospital. That is not unlike these patients. Many of them are restrained in their last days. I’d say he is doing better than most I’ve treated. Moving him at this point would be really difficult though, especially that far away.”
I walked into his room and stopped. Stared at him. Strapped to a hospital bed in a white-washed room with terrible lighting. The final moments of his life spent in a bland room with beeping machines and no family or friends. I begged him to let me tell his parents, but he said not to. I called them anyway, against his wishes, but his mother didn’t believe me, said I was nuts, and threatened to take custody of Riley if I didn’t get my act together, so I apologized and hung up, wishing I never tried to call.
I touched his hand. His eyes flickered.
“Andy?” I said. “I’ve got Riley here.”
“You shouldn’t be here. They will kill you.”
“I snuck past them in a disguise. They won’t kill me.”
“It’s hard for me to talk. I’m losing my voice.”
“I can tell.”
“I think they are poisoning me.”
“I will try to get you out of here. Until then, I will keep sneaking in.” I kissed his fingers. “I want to thank you for rescuing me and trying to save me.” A tear fell. “And for keeping me safe from the bad guys. You’re a good husband. You’ve done a good job. I’m proud of you.”
“I’m dying, bug.” His eyes were swollen shut. “They are putting poison in my food and forcing me to eat it.”
“I know. It’s okay though. You are a strong man. They may be able to kill your body, but they can’t kill your spirit.”
“Bug.”
“Yeah?”
“We took our rings off because I wanted to put them back on when it was new.” He gasped for air and tilted his head back.
I stood. “Are you okay?”
I almost called for help, but he settled back down and looked into my eyes, then closed them again. “Find a good man, Heidi. Not just for you. Riley needs a father. You are young. I want you to find someone. It doesn’t upset me. You need to move on and live your life. Please do it for Riley. Promise me.”
“Andy.”
“Promise me.”
“If it happens, it happens. If it doesn’t, it doesn’t.”
“I can’t sleep. It’s terrible. They keep coming in here with guns. They point them in my face and scream at me. It’s not easy. I almost wish they’d kill me already.”
“I will try to save you. Maybe we can run away from here and go to the Bahamas. I will go buy the plane tickets now.”
He nodded. Life slowly drained from his body. I could almost see it happening as his pale face lost the pink tint it once had.
“Rest here while I get the plane tickets. When I come back I will wheel you out of here.”
I let Riley kiss him goodbye, very much aware that it could be the last time, but it wasn’t. Later that day I came back and sat beside him.
“Andy,” I said. “We’re in the Bahamas. Isn’t it beautiful?”
A slight smile.
“I’m going to take Riley down to the water. You stay here and relax in the sand.”
He tried to nod.
A few seconds later I said, “She loves it here. I was thinking we could come back once a year.” I held his hand. “The water is crystal clear. Sky is so beautiful too. You can barely tell where the sky ends and the water starts. I love the fish. Tons of them. All around. Mmm . . . can you smell that? There’s nothing like that salty beach smell. Maybe we could go snorkeling later. For now, how about we relax here and enjoy the silence?”
I found a recording on YouTube with sounds of waves crashing against the shore. A few weeks passed. I did the same thing every time I visited him. Then, on a snowy February morning, two days before Valentine’s Day, I played the beach sounds for 42 minutes until Andy slipped into a peaceful coma. Or at least I hoped it was peaceful.
The doctor assured me that Andy could still hear me. Probably even understand me. But he couldn’t open his eyes or speak to me.
I sat there. Staring at his face. Void of life. Waiting for the end. Every time I left him I thought it was goodbye, but a few days passed and he was still there. Lifeless, but breathing.
I couldn’t cry. Andy died to me the first time he left, when he made me believe he was involved with a scandal and needed to fake his death. Seeing his body there, relaxed and lifeless, the reality I lived for months became real. I didn’t have to lie anymore. Soon, he would be gone. Permanently. Never to arise from the shadows again.
I kissed his forehead and smiled, then took Riley outside for a little and came back in. About an hour later he stopped breathing. With Riley asleep on my shoulder, I rubbed his hand as his face twitched and relaxed along with every muscle in his body. Riley woke and I leaned her toward his face. “Kiss daddy goodbye, love.” She pressed her lips into his cheek and I helped her wave. “Goodbye, sweet Andy. No more suffering. It’s all over now.”
I drove back to Pennsylvania after Andy’s death and arranged to have him cremated, like he wanted when he faked his death before. I debated whether I should tell his parents the truth after my call with them, and decided not to. Figured it would be too heartbreaking for them to know the suffering he endured. Not to mention grieving the loss of your child twice seemed unbearable. Doubt they would believe me anyway. Since the day I “stole” Andy from his mother she barely spoke to me. Not an ounce of love for me in their hearts. For some reason it never bothered me much. I was used to it. Never had many friends growing up and was never good enough for my parents either.
I set up a time to meet with my realtor, paid some bills, and settled back into life without Andy. Only this time I knew he’d never come back. I searched the house for any small remnants of him that Riley would want when she grew up. After putting everything in a box I sat on my bed with the photograph Andy gave me for Christmas. The night I sang him the song I wrote for my future husband.
Strange how memories can fade so much into the past that it almost seems like another life. I loved Andy. I really did. But the person I was back then wasn’t me anymore. She died when he left the first time, and now she was really buried. For good.
I didn’t know who I was anymore.
Riley cried from her room. Nap time over. I picked her up, “My little lady bug. How are you?”
I set her on the ground with some toys and watched her play, hoping I wouldn’t watch her die the same way Andy did. Didn’t think I could bear something like that twice.
All that time in Maryland by Andy’s side and Riley’s birthday snuck by me. We had a mini celebration at the hotel, but nothing much. Already a one-year-old. Time flies. Most one-year-old babies I saw were walking or starting to walk. Not Riley. Only one foot reached the ground. A few more months until her surgery. The first of many. I dreaded it with every part of me.
I texted Miranda. Want to celebrate Riley’s first birthday tomorrow?
Miranda: Whoa. You’re back? New phone number? I thought you were gone forever.
Me: I’m back. Please don’t tell Patrick. I’m not ready to see him yet.
Miranda: He has a secret admirer.
Me: He does? Well, good, then he doesn’t need me anymore. Don’t tell him I’m back though. I need time.
Miranda: Where’d you go?
Me: A break. Meet me at the park by my house tomorrow. We can sing happy birthday to her there.
Miranda: You don’t care that he has a secret admirer?
Miranda: Nope. Thanks for telling me though.
Me: You sure you don’t care?
Miranda: Never been so sure in my life.
My eyes glazed over when I saw the shredded paper on my kitchen table. Patrick read my letter. Read it and ripped it up. My words must have meant nothing to him. Not when my actions were so strange. How could I expect him to take it well? I broke his heart. I needed to tell him the truth soon, but not yet. Not until my life felt somewhat normal again. I needed to sell the house, start over, and develop a new life that didn’t feel like a bad dream. And I needed to do it asap.
Ch. 28 | Patrick
Call it boredom, call it attraction, call it crazy, I don’t know what caused me to email her again, but I did. A simple, “Hey, how’s it going?” And within a half hour she responded. I kicked my feet up on my couch and read her words.
From: Secret Admirer
To: Patrick Wheldon
Subject: RE: Still there?
Hey Patrick,
I’m so glad you emailed again. I’ve been thinking about you. Listen, I want you to know that I found someone else. I think about you and wonder if what we could have had would’ve been wonderful, but you didn’t seem ready. Your heart isn’t here. It’s with Heidi. Trust me, I respect that. I really do. I
’ve found a good guy and I want you to know that it won’t hurt my feelings if we stay friends. That’s all we can be now.
My heart did a three-sixty right inside my chest. Would’ve flipped right out and landed across the room if I didn’t sit down. Women entered and left my life at lightening speeds. I couldn’t keep up. Not sure I wanted to anymore, but as I reread her email a second time one thing stood out to me. She found someone else, but maybe, just maybe, judging by her tone, she’d give me one more chance.
From: Patrick Wheldon
To: Secret Admirer
Subject: RE: Still there
Nameless wonder, I’m sorry I dropped off the face of the planet. I’m sorry for a lot of things I can’t help. I’m not a perfect person, and okay, so I’m not looking for a perfect person either. I know you found some great guy who probably deserves you more than I do, but when I read your email the first word that came to my mind was “shit!” I didn’t know I’d regret losing whatever strange relationship we had until you said that. This could be the unimaginable loneliness talking. It could be the brink of spring in the air and my friends all happily in relationships. I don’t know what it is, but right now I’m feeling an immense loss and sense of regret when I think of you finding someone else. Can he wait? Is it serious? Can we meet one time before you devote yourself to him for the rest of your life?
I hit send and waited. An entire hour and fourteen minutes. I cleaned my kitchen, vacuumed the floor, took a shower, counted sheep, and finally she responded.
From: Secret Admirer
To: Patrick Wheldon
Subject: RE: Still there?
I’m really sorry. I don’t know. I’m afraid you’re just saying that because you don’t want to lose another friend. We can still be friends, but if I meet you I want to marry you. Period. You have to choose before we meet.