by DC Renee
And then my damn stupid awkward feelings came back …
It was Nolan’s fault.
I’d come home from work one day to hear Nolan’s voice not exactly screaming, but most definitely a few octaves higher than his usual tone. I wasn’t early or anything, so my only guess was that Nolan hadn’t realized what time it was because I had a feeling I wasn’t meant to hear his conversation.
Worry and curiosity got the better of me, and I found myself moving automatically toward his office. I was two steps away from walking in and asking him if he was all right when the voice, or more like the words on the other end, on speakerphone to be exact, stopped me.
“I know I fucked up,” someone said, and I didn’t immediately recognize the voice even though it sounded familiar. One of his cousins, I thought to myself.
I should have backed away and given Nolan and his cousin some privacy, but then I heard the telltale sign of Nolan pacing back and forth. Whatever had happened was serious, and my feet disobeyed my head’s command to move. They stayed planted firmly in place.
“You didn’t just fuck up; you put us in danger,” Nolan said, his tone seething, as I heard him throw something against a wall. I flinched but didn’t make a sound or move otherwise. Yep, definitely wasn’t supposed to hear this. Yet I stayed to do just that.
“How the hell was I supposed to know the fucker was part of—”
Nolan cut him off. “You know because you are part of this family, and it’s this family’s job to know every single one of our enemies.” I was utterly and completely confused. I’d never heard Nolan so mad before. I mean, I’d seen him get angry, and I’d seen him upset. I’d even heard him yelling. I was bound to after a few years together. But I could hear the suppressed rage boiling just below the surface, and I’d never heard anything like that before. That alone gave me pause. But the conversation I heard? That made me think I’d walked into the wrong house. Enemies? I must have heard wrong. What enemies could “this family” have? Unless Nolan meant competitors, and it was just a poor choice of wording.
“Nolan.” His cousin said his name as though he’d been thoroughly reprimanded and didn’t know how to respond.
“It’s called retaliation, Rick,” Nolan said. For some reason, I wasn’t surprised that the person to fuck up was Rick. “You might not give a shit about your wife, but I do.” My level of confusion spiked infinitely higher.
“They ain’t going to touch us.”
“You’re right,” Nolan said, his voice so authoritative that I believed his words even though I had absolutely no idea what the hell was going on. “Because I’m going to sort this shit out.”
Nolan had stopped pacing, and his voice was closer to me than before. I was torn between staying and listening to the rest and wanting to tiptoe away so as not to be caught eavesdropping.
Something in me said it was better to go back the way I came. Something in me said this wasn’t a conversation I could just simply ask Nolan about. I walked quietly back toward the front door, opening and closing it loudly before calling out. “Oh man, Nolan, what a day.” It hadn’t been “a day” until I’d come home, but I needed a way for him to know I’d “just” gotten home.
I honestly, to this day, didn’t know why I didn’t just confront him. Why I didn’t just barge into his office and demand to know what was going on.
He walked out of his office and swept me up into his arms just moments later, burying his head in my neck and inhaling. A part of me wanted to push him away and ask who he was because what I’d just heard sounded like something from a bad mafia movie. And another part of me felt the tension in his shoulders, the worry vibrating through his body, and I wanted to run my fingers through his hair and soothe him in whatever way I could. That part won out. My love for him won out.
“Is everything okay?” I asked and was incredibly surprised when he looked up at me and answered.
“Rick made a dumb move with one of our competitors, and it could cost us everything we care about. If they come after us, I’m worried about taking care of you. So now I have to make nice and fix this.”
I saw the genuine sincerity and concern in his eyes as he looked at me, and suddenly, all my feelings, all the nerves, and all the anxiety I’d been feeling dissipated.
“Nolan, you know if we were dead broke and lived in a cardboard box, I’d still love you.”
He smiled at me with amusement shining in his eyes. “Is that so?”
“I love you,” I told him, and I felt him relax at my words.
I’d overreacted at Nolan’s overreaction. I knew Nolan was prideful, and obviously whatever Rick did, Nolan was afraid they’d lose the business. No business meant no money, and no money meant no way to support us. No wonder he’d gone off on Rick like that.
I almost admitted I’d overheard his conversation, but I didn’t.
The weight lifted from my chest, and things were once again fine, but those unsteady feelings I’d had before? They just wouldn’t go away. No matter how much I willed them to. They were like the third wheel in our marriage, only Nolan didn’t know, and I didn’t want to know. Yet they were still there.
YOU COULD SAY my weird feelings had just cause to simmer under the surface. There always seemed to be a logical explanation for whatever odd thing I came across. But until there was an explanation, I had every right to question what the hell was going on in my life.
Exhibit A, walking into your home to see someone stitching up your husband.
I had come straight home from a visit with one of the children on my roster. It had actually been a good visit with a little boy who’d finally caught a lucky break after years of being shuffled back and forth. I’d left the visit with a smile on my face and decided to head home after that, wanting to end my day on a good note. It wasn’t the first time I’d done that, and as long as I got my work done, my boss was all right with that, but it was a rare occurrence.
Which was probably why Nolan didn’t expect me to walk in and witness their little makeshift doctor’s office.
“What the hell happened?” I immediately asked as I took in the sight before me. Nolan was sitting at our kitchen table with a giant gash in his arm and blood-soaked towels surrounding him as his dad and two of his cousins stood by. His cousin’s wife, a nurse, was currently sticking a needle into Nolan’s arm, and I watched as he flinched with each stab of the needle.
Like a classic comedy, they all turned to look at me with panic, worry, and shock registering on all their faces.
“Lise,” Nolan exclaimed but was smart enough not to move.
“What the hell happened?” I repeated my question, this time, raising my voice as I stood rooted in place, staring as though I was watching a train wreck.
“Machinery accident,” Neal responded, and although I appreciated the response, I wasn’t actually asking him.
“What machinery?” I asked slowly, skeptically. As far as I knew, they did imports and exports. What the hell kind of machinery did they need? They weren’t an engineering company, for crying out loud.
“A piece broke off from one of the cranes we use to lift boxes,” Nolan answered seamlessly. It made sense, but I still wasn’t convinced.
“And why the hell are you here and not in a hospital?”
“Do you know the wait times at the ER?” Nolan asked, plastering a smile on his lips.
“This is no time for joking,” I yelled at him, not giving a damn about our audience. “Machinery accident or not, you are seriously hurt,” I said as I finally found my feet and made my way closer to his arm. The gash was much larger and deeper than it looked like from a few feet away. “You need to be in the hospital, in a sanitary environment, and not our damn kitchen!” I screamed this last part at full volume.
“Lise, it’s not that bad,” Nolan tried to pacify me as the others stood by.
“Not that bad?” I asked incredulously. “Are you looking at the same cut I’m looking at?”
“Honestly, Lise. I
t looks worse than it feels. And truly, it would have taken hours to sit in the ER right now and wait for them to stitch me up. That wasn’t a joke. Why wait hours for an ER nurse to do what Erika can do here?”
“Is this safe even?” I asked, my anger starting to dissipate as I took in Nolan’s words. All logical reasons, of course, yet I was not satisfied with the situation.
“Absolutely,” Erika said as she looked up at me. “May I?” she asked and pointed at his arm, clearly asking if it was all right with me for her to continue.
“Why didn’t you call me?” I asked quietly, realizing my husband hadn’t called me to tell me he was hurt. I would have rushed to his side.
“I didn’t want to worry you. Accidents happen, and honestly, this really isn’t as bad as it looks.”
I nodded because I had no other response.
“Well, uh, looks like you have it from here,” one of the cousin’s said, and then gave me a hug hello and goodbye at the same time before walking out.
“He didn’t mean to upset you,” Neal said before leaving too. “He’s tough, but I’m sure that sucker hurts, so go easy on him, yeah?” he added.
“I will,” I told him, and he left as well.
Erika finished after just a few more minutes, and then she and her husband headed out too.
“I’m so sorry, Lise,” Nolan said as soon as they were gone. “I know this probably looked horrible, but sadly, we’ve had some accidents before. We try to keep up to date with everything, but even still, things happen. Thankfully, Erika is our resident fixer-upper. This time, I was the unlucky person involved in the accident. But I promise to be more careful, and I promise to let you know if something happens again.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t,” I told him.
“Am I forgiven?” he asked.
“Depends,” I answered. “You an invalid now? Or you think you can show me how sorry you are?”
“You think this little paper cut could stop me? Oh, Lise, then you don’t know me very well at all.” Just to prove his cut was just a small little hiccup, he managed to pull me up so I was forced to wrap my legs around his waist as he captured my lips. Then he walked us to the bedroom and proceeded to show me how sorry he was, with me on top of course … you know, pity for his arm and all. It had nothing to do with the fact I was still feeling a bit angry and needed to take that anger out on his body … nothing at all …
“YOU HAVE TO lay off those Law and Order shows,” Stephanie told me over the phone. For the longest time, I didn’t tell her about these little incidents that all seemed normal after I’d gotten an explanation but were weird as hell until then. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust her because I one hundred percent did. It was that I thought I was being melodramatic. I thought something was wrong with me for the way I was feeling about it. That was also why I never voiced my concerns to Nolan.
I mean, what was I going to say to him? “Hey, so you know how some weird things happen, but then you explain them away logically? Well, I still don’t like them.” Those thoughts seemed a lot saner in my head. So there they stayed.
But after a while, I could no longer just keep them bottled up, and I told Stephanie. I didn’t tell her often because I knew she thought I was nutso, but at least she didn’t judge me. I’d just finished telling her about the machinery incident, and how awkward it was.
“What do you think happened, Anna? He got knifed at work?” she asked, and I could hear the teasing smile in her voice. “I can see it now. Cousin gets canned, comes back for revenge. Knife fight ensues.”
“He could have gotten mugged,” I retorted lamely.
“And lied about it?”
“Maybe he was too proud to admit he got attacked?” I responded with the weak question.
“And nothing was magically stolen?”
“Maybe it was, and I don’t know about it. Or maybe he got them good before they pulled a switchblade on him, but that’s why they didn’t get anything.”
“A switchblade?” she asked. “Really, no more late-night dramas for you,” she added with a laugh.
“I know I’m not making sense, okay?” I said. “I just can’t help the way I feel. I mean, I didn’t even realize they have machinery at his job.”
“That’s not surprising, Anna. You don’t even really comprehend what he does.”
“Neither do you,” I shot back.
“He’s not my husband,” she shot right back.
I sighed. “You’re right.”
“So do something about it. Go visit him. Have him give you a tour. Maybe if you’re there, in the thick of it, you’ll gain a better understanding of what’s happening in his work world.”
“That might not be a bad idea,” I said.
“Of course, it’s not a bad idea. It’s a great idea,” she emphasized. “Because it’s my idea. So duh, it’s great.”
I laughed in response. “You’re a dork.”
“That I am, and proud of it. But oh! Even better idea. Go surprise him with lunch one day. I bet he’ll love that.”
“What would I do without you?”
“Watch too many Law and Orders apparently,” she teased.
Surprising Nolan at work with lunch was a great idea, but it wasn’t something I could just easily do during my lunchbreak. For one, by the time I got to his office, my own lunchbreak would be half over. Factor in the time it would take to get the food and then I’d have to turn right around the minute I got there. That would defeat the purpose of the visit in the first place.
Due to my current workload and the in-home visits I already had on my calendar, I wasn’t able to find a day that worked with my schedule for another couple of weeks. But, finally, a day came when I was able to take the afternoon off. I made a stop by the Indian restaurant Nolan loved and grabbed all his favorite dishes before heading to his office.
Should have been great, right? Well…you know what happened to wives trying to surprise their husbands? They were the ones who got a surprise.
“What the fuck?” I cursed out loud as I stared at the empty space.
I looked down at my phone’s GPS again. I even shook my phone a bit, as if there was something loose in it and shaking it would magically put it back in place. Then I stared up again at the empty lot before looking back down at my phone. I did this a few times, completely baffled. I mean, I knew where Nolan worked. He’d told me before. And if that weren’t enough, I’d googled the address online just in case. All signs pointed to the empty lot I was looking at.
I went back to my trusty friend Google and searched for other properties for several minutes but came up with nothing. “I don’t get it,” I said to no one.
Finally, coming to my senses, I picked up the phone and called Nolan.
He didn’t pick up, so I tried again. And then again. I wasn’t stopping until he picked up, and I got answers. Finally, on the fifth try, he picked up.
“Lise, what’s wrong? Everything okay? Sorry, I was in a meeting, and I’d left my phone charging at my desk.”
“And where exactly is your desk?” I questioned, my tone a bit harsh.
“Um, in my office.”
“And where is this office?”
“Lise? What’s going on? Is everything okay?”
“Not really, Nolan,” I admitted with a biting tone.
“Where are you? Are you hurt? I’m coming.”
“No, see, that’s the interesting thing. I was coming to you. I wanted to surprise you with lunch. Yet here I am, and you’re nowhere in sight. In fact, there’s nothing in sight.”
“You’re here? Where?” he asked, and I couldn’t tell if I heard panic or excitement. I had a feeling it was the former.
“I’m right outside your empty office space.”
“I don’t see you,” he said calmly. “Oh!” he added as if something had dawned on him. “Oh, Lise, you’re at the lot, aren’t you?”
“You mean the place you told me you worked at?”
“Lise, you must h
ave misheard me.”
“And what about Google? Did he mishear you too?” I replied snidely.
“We don’t list our address because we don’t want competitors coming in and seeing what’s going on. It’s a bit paranoid, I’ll admit, but it’s something my grandfather started, and we stuck with it. And as for you, I’m sure you heard me mention it and just misunderstood.”
“I know what I heard, Nolan. You told me you worked here!” I yelled.
“Then I must have misspoke,” he said quickly. “I’m just so used to listing that address that I probably said it to you too. Why don’t I come to you? There’s a nice little park near the lot. We’ll sit, eat, talk. I’ll take the rest of the day off, and we’ll just spend it together.”
I stood quietly processing what he had said. It made sense. He always made sense. And then I felt like an overreacting fool, but it didn’t stop the doubts and insecurities that crept in. I didn’t really want to see Nolan at that moment, and I sure as hell no longer cared about visiting his work. All of a sudden, I just felt drained. But I didn’t have the energy to argue with him, and I didn’t want to sound crazy. So instead of telling him how I felt once again, I found myself saying, “Yeah, sure, sounds good.”
I found the park Nolan mentioned, then sat on a bench and waited for him to arrive. It took about ten minutes before he made it, but I had time to think and process everything until he did. I felt like an idiot; I really did. I felt like I was looking for issues where there were none. Yet I couldn’t stop it. By the time Nolan made it, I vowed to push my thoughts aside and just enjoy my time off with my husband.
I did just that, salvaging the rest of the afternoon.
It didn’t hurt that Nolan told me how sorry he was that he confused me. He said he would have loved to see me in his office and promised to give me a tour the next time I had some time off.
As we sat enjoying each other’s company, I vowed, yet again, to stop giving in to my irrational thoughts. Only problem? Easier said than done.
THERE CAME A breaking point, a point when you realized maybe you weren’t so crazy after all.