by Portia Moore
“I haven’t been just sitting here. I have my job. I’ve been raising Caylen!”
“Yeah, that’s a hell of a life. You edit some crap manuscripts because you can do it here alone, shut off from the rest of the world. You were supposed to be an artist and travel the world—what happened!” Her words sting because there’s so much truth to them. “He walked out on you, and you’re still here being the faithful little wife, wasting away.”
“Hillary, don’t!” Angela growls at her, giving her a glare before looking at me sympathetically.
“No one else may tell you this, but I’m not going to lie or ignore what’s happening here anymore. That’s why I was so happy to see you warming up to Steven again, then I find out this!”
“Cal promised me he wasn’t leaving me for anyone else. He just said he had to leave. Cal has done a lot of things, but he never lied,” I tell her sharply.
“How do you know that? Because he said he didn’t?” Hillary laughs.
My skin is hot, and my heart is pounding. “Cal is a lot of things, but he isn’t a liar!” I approach her so we’re face to face.
Angela approaches us quickly, ready to intervene in what she’s seeing as an escalating situation.
“No, Lauren! You probably know him as well as I do, which isn’t much,” Hillary screams, and my anger melts, replaced by depression. I see the anger leave her face as well. “Lauren.” Her tone is softer than before. “I should have shown you this when I first got it. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to hurt you. I figured if you didn’t know…”
“What are you talking about? What is she talking about, Angie?” I ask her, exasperated, trying to withstand anything Hillary throws at me next about Cal.
“I-I don’t know,” Angie says, looking as surprised as I am.
“You better sit down,” Hillary tells me gently.
“What?” I ask her, looking for a brief moment at Angela, who seems genuine.
Hillary sits next to me before she begins. “You remember last month when I went to my aunt’s birthday?” she says slowly.
“What does that have to do with this?” I ask anxiously, feeling extremely frustrated as well.
“Let me finish,” she says, looking me in the eye.
I fold my arms and listen, hoping it’s not another load of criticism.
“When I went, my cousin was showing off how her daughter was homecoming queen, and you know, small town, it made the paper… and while I was looking through it, I saw this,” she says, pulling out a piece of newspaper. She hands it to me.
I read the headline and shrug. “It’s a newspaper from Madison. That’s, like, about two counties away from Saginaw… what does this have to do with anything?” My mind reels with confusion.
“Open it up, the second page. You’ll see what I’m talking about.”
I roll my eyes and open it, scanning the page. My eyes land on a picture that makes my heart stop. There’s a picture of Cal with an older man. I read the caption under it:
Former Madison High alum, Chris Scott, poses with his father, William Scott, after annual pie eating contest.
“Hillary, what the hell is this?” My voice is trembling, my eyes glued to the picture.
“Lauren, what is it?” Angela asks, her voice filled with worry.
“I asked my aunt about him. He played football against her son. He was pretty good. His mom’s name is Gwen. They met through some sport fundraisers,” Hillary reveals quietly.
“No…” I say, slowly shaking my head defiantly. “No! This isn’t him! It can’t be!” I throw the paper down.
Angela grabs it, and I watch her face drop.
“Lauren, pictures don’t lie! He’s been lying to you this entire time! Now do you understand why I’m so angry and frustrated with you? I’m trying to help you! He’s not who he says he is!” Hillary urges, but the anger from her expression has dissipated.
I feel as if I’m going to throw up.
“Tell her, Angie! Is that Cal or not?” Hillary demands, taking the picture and shoving it in front of Angela’s eyes.
I very slowly and carefully sit on the floor. It can’t be him. It wouldn’t make sense. Cal wouldn’t be in some small-town pie eating contest. That’s not why he left me. He’s in danger or in some type of trouble, not this.
“Lauren, this looks a lot like him,” Angela says quietly.
“Looks? That is him!” Hillary screeches.
Angela sits in front of me. “Lauren, you said Cal was adopted. Maybe that’s his brother, his twin brother…”
“A biological twin brother that he never mentioned with the same last name as his adopted parents? Give me a break. He’s a con. He’s living a double life,” Hillary says with a frustrated groan.
“Hillary, shut up for a minute!” Angela yells.
I start to feel dizzy and hot, my vision blurring for a few seconds and clearing. “I need… I need some water.” I get up and make my way to the kitchen.
“Lauren, are you okay?” Angela asks, grabbing my shoulder.
Her voice… their voices… are so loud, pounding in my ears, and when I turn around, her face becomes blurry. I feel off balance and fall. Angela grabs me before I completely hit the floor.
“Hillary, get her some water! Lauren, listen to me. You hear my voice?” Angie takes the newspaper and begins to fan my face.
“Oh my God, what’s wrong with her?”
“I think she’s in shock, that’s all.”
I hear their voices, but I can’t even tell them apart. I feel as if I’m drunk. I’m trying to wrap my mind around what I’ve just seen. It looked like him. The article even used his last name… but it can’t be. It just wouldn’t make sense. His name isn’t Chris!
“Lauren, say something, sweetie. You’re scaring us,” Hillary says, her voice full of regret as she puts the cup of water in my hand.
When I lift it to my lips and take a drink, they both let out a sigh of relief.
“I’m such a bitch. I shouldn’t have told you this way,” Hillary scolds herself. “I just couldn’t stand watching you care for this jerk.”
“You should have told me as soon as you found out,” I whisper, setting the glass down. They’re both looking at me as if I’m dying. I cover my face. “Let me see the paper again,” I mumble, willing myself not to cry.
Angela looks skeptical but hands it to me. I look at the picture again, his face… he’s smiling widely, holding a trophy with the older man next to him. He looks so happy and different. This person has his face and even his last name, but there’s something different. I just can’t figure it out. If this is him, everything he’s told me has been a lie. I’ve been an idiot sitting around thinking he’s in some kind of trouble, but why there? Why in some little county that can’t be bigger than my own hometown? I expected Cal to be in New York or LA or even some foreign city—not there. And he told me he and his parents were estranged. This doesn’t add up. I need answers now!
I stand and look at them both. They look so worried. I slip on my nearby flip-flops and grab my keys.
“I need one of you to stay here and let Raven know what’s going on,” I say, going to the closet and grabbing a jacket.
“Where are you going?” Angela asks worriedly.
“To see the one person who can give me some answers,” I tell them before heading out the door.
“Hi, Lauren! What are you doing here?” Helen asks, looking surprised as she welcomes me in, though I know security has informed her of my presence. “What’s wrong?”
“Where’s Dexter?” I demand.
“He’s… he’s in his office. Lauren, what’s wrong?” she asks again, concerned, as I storm down the hall toward Dex’s office.
I knock hard two times before going in. Dexter looks up from the phone conversation he’s having, a mixture of surprise and irritation on his face.
“I’ll have to call you back,” he mumbles into the phone before hanging up. “Lauren, this is a surprise.�
� He stands and moves around the desk to hug me. “How are you? Helen told me what you said, and I’m really glad that—” He stops short as he watches me struggle to pull the newspaper out of my purse.
“You want to explain this to me!” I slam the newspaper on his desk.
He looks at it curiously then picks it up. A wave of emotions cross his face; I see shock, recognition, and then—yep, there it is!—guilt. After a moment, he glances at me, and for once, it looks as though he’s speechless.
“What is this?” he begins, placing a fake grin on his face.
I can’t believe how he can lie to me like this. “Bullshit!”
He blinks, unfazed. Helen, however, looks as if she’s a deer caught in headlights.
“Now I’m going to sit here all day if I have to, but you’re going to tell me something, or I swear to God, I’ll walk out of this office and disappear off the face of the earth and you and Cal won’t be able to find me or Caylen ever again, regardless of how much money you have. So you think carefully before you open your mouth to lie to me,” I growl.
“What the hell is Cal doing in Madison?” Helen asks, confused.
Dexter doesn’t answer.
“Answer me!” Helen demands angrily.
“Helen, you have nothing to do with this,” he tells her sternly.
“I’m your wife, and not only your wife but her friend. She deserves to know whatever it is you know!” Helen growls.
“Helen, leave!” he orders sharply.
“No, Dex! This is beyond being loyal to him. You tell her something, or she won’t be the only one leaving!” Helen says in a low, vicious tone that makes my skin crawl.
Dexter stares her down as if she’s bluffing, but she stands her ground, and a moment later, he walks back to his chair and sits down.
“What do you want to know, Lauren?” Dex asks me calmly.
“Is that Cal?” I ask pleadingly.
He doesn’t say anything, but his eyes give it away. I feel my heart beat.
“What is he doing? Why is he there?” I wait for an answer, and he doesn’t give me one.
“Dex,” Helen says curtly.
“Maybe he likes the pie,” Dex mumbles.
I can’t believe him; he has the nerve to joke about this! “Why does that article say his name is Chris?” I feel my eyes water in frustration.
“Because that’s who it is,” Dex says quietly.
I look at Helen, who looks as confused as I am.
“You know it’s Cal. I know it’s him, so why won’t you just tell me the damn truth?” I scream desperately.
“It’s complicated,” he says sharply.
“Then explain!” I yell as my tears blur my vision.
“It’s not my place to tell you,” he says pointedly.
“It’s not your place to keep secrets from me. All I want to know is what you know!” I plead with him, but he doesn’t even flinch. “All of this time, all of this time you’ve known. I went through having Caylen alone, crying night after night, worried about him, sitting around like an idiot, and you knew! You’ve known the whole time, and you still won’t tell me even when I have his damn picture in front of you!”
“I can’t help you, Lauren. I’m sorry,” he says in a low tone.
“I thought he left me for some divine reason to protect me, and it was all a lie. He’s been in Madison using some false name. It says he went to high school there, for God’s sake. Cal told me he grew up in Chicago!” I start to feel dizzy again; my emotions are getting to me.
“You don’t understand. That’s my point!” Dexter states.
“No, I understand completely. I’m done asking you questions that you obviously aren’t going to answer. You aren’t who I should be talking to anyway.” I look at Helen, who looks as if she’s trying to maintain her calm even though her nerves are on edge. I’m exhausted from all this drama. “His address? That’s all I want from you. I at least deserve that.”
“I can’t give it to you because Cal isn’t in Madison,” he says adamantly.
“All I want is the address to where he is!” I manage to shout with the anger left in me.
“Dex, tell her!” Helen yells.
“I can’t! The person she’s going to look for isn’t going to be there!” Dexter roars.
“Then I’ll find him myself.” Madison is about the same size as Saginaw; I can find him in a week.
“Lauren, I’m asking you not to go. Give me more time…” he says, standing.
“How dare you? How dare you not tell me anything about where he is, and ask me not to look for him!” I say angrily.
“It’s not what you think!” he yells.
“Then tell her!” Helen roars back. For once, Helen is challenging Dex, going against everything she advised me during one of our first conversations about living with our men’s secrets. It’s about damn time!
“You don’t know what I think! And if you’ve listened to anything I’ve said, you’d know that things can’t get any worse!” I turn my attention to Helen, who looks as if she’s ready to march out the door and go search with me. “Bye.” I wave slightly at her before I leave the office, but she’s following right behind me.
“Lauren!” Dexter calls.
I stop in my tracks.
“He never meant for it to be this way. He really did try,” he says before disappearing back into his office.
“What the hell does that mean?” I let out an exhausted and frustrated groan. I’ve never felt so completely drained.
“Dex speaks in riddles a lot, but you listen to me,” Helen says, taking me by my shoulders. “I’m going to find out where he is. He’s going to tell me something before the night is over, and when I know, you’re the first one I’m calling.” She opens the front door.
“Call my cell. I won’t be at home; I’m going to Madison,” I tell her, heading to the elevators.
She follows me. “Now?” she asks, her voiced raised in disbelief.
I hit the button for the elevator. “I’ve been sitting around doing nothing for too long. Now there’s no excuse. I know where he is, and I’m not going to wait until he has the chance to go hide somewhere else.”
“W-what about Caylen? Where is she? You just can’t leave her.”
“Caylen is with Raven. She’s in the best hands. I’m going to call them on my way. I’m not just doing this for myself. My little girl is not going to grow up without her dad if she doesn’t have to. If Cal doesn’t owe me anything, he owes her everything!” I say, sharper than I intend to.
Helen looks down guiltily. “Give me a day. Even if Dex doesn’t tell me, I’ll hire a private investigator. You can’t do anything if you don’t know where he is.”
The bell dings, and the elevator doors open. I sigh in frustration and walk in. “You think I haven’t done that? If it was the other way around and you were in my situation, would you waste another second?”
“I’m not trying to stop you, Lauren, I… I just want to help,” she says, seemingly offended. Her eyes convey nothing but sincerity, but I always have to guess with her.
I take a deep breath. Helen is a mystery to me sometimes. One minute she’s this cool, confident, intimidating woman, and the next she seems warm, genuine, and sincere. When I first met her, Cal warned me about her, but right now, his words aren’t holding too much weight with me. I don’t have time to figure out what her motives are anymore, and I really don’t care if she’s on Dexter’s side or mine, or if she has her own agenda in this, for that matter, because I have my own.
“If you want to help me, Helen”—I push the button for the elevator to go down—“get me an address.”
I’m done living in the midst of questions. If I have to knock on every door, drive down every street, I’m not leaving Madison until I find him. And when I do, I’m coming home with my husband or a divorce.
Four hours. That’s how long I drove. I had to stop and ask for directions twice due to my spur-of-the-moment decision to take
this trip and my GPS going stupid. My cell phone has been ringing nonstop since I let my friends know about my decision to go to Madison alone. After driving so long, I’m starting to think they were right.
The wiser part of me wishes I would have waited a couple of days to let this sink in, to wait for word from Helen, to at least pack some clothing. I’ve been pulled over on the side of the road, staring down the “Welcome to Madison” sign for at least thirty minutes. The pissed, angry, and anxious part of me is ready to start randomly knocking on doors. To be honest, that’s pretty much the only idea I have. I have absolutely no idea where Cal is, or even if he’s still here. I don’t know what I’m going to do if I find him. What am I going to say? There are so many things I want to know, that I’ve never had answers for. The newspaper article just added more questions to the list. Until last night, when I heard him, I’ve tried to forget about him. I’ve tried so hard, but the fact that Caylen is his spitting image doesn’t help much.
When I first saw her, I cried. Both from the happiness of seeing my child’s face and because I knew I’d never be able to forget her father. Every time I look at her, he’s staring back at me, mocking me. And then there’s my promise to him… but he’s definitely broken some of his own.
I lean across the armrest, open my glove compartment, and pull out the worn, stained envelope. I didn’t even want it in my house. I open it up and take out my wedding ring. I haven’t touched it in so long. The day I found out I was pregnant with Caylen, I took it off and sealed it in an envelope. I couldn’t bring myself to throw it away, but I couldn’t wear it either.
I think about his picture in the newspaper article again. How his expression seemed foreign, but even in the low-quality picture, his eyes drew me in.
I let out a sigh and look at the clock. It’s four thirty. Four and a half hours have gone by… another sigh. I take a deep breath once more and look at myself in the rearview mirror. The bags around my eyes can carry groceries. I look as though I haven’t slept in days.