by Blake Pierce
Suddenly her shoe snagged on the carpeting and she fell. She wasn’t hurt but knew there was no way she’d be able to get up and round the corner out of sight before Teddy and the hostess saw her in the hallway. Already she saw their shadows bouncing off the wall at the far end. There was nowhere to hide.
Desperate, she glanced down at the half-full water glass she was still clutching in her right hand. Without even really thinking about it, she rolled over and flung it the length of the hallway toward them. It bounced on the carpet twice but still had enough force to shatter when it hit the far wall. The shadows froze.
“What the…” she heard the hostess say apprehensively.
Jessie popped up as quickly as she could and hurried to the bend in the hall.
“Stay back, Kelsey,” she heard Teddy say.
She still needed more time.
“Whore!” she shouted in her loudest, grizzliest voice, hoping the screamed insult might give him a second’s more pause.
“Teddy, wait,” she heard the hostess whisper loudly and imagined her grabbing him by the arm.
Jessie gave one last glance back down the long hallway as she rounded the corner. There was no one in sight.
When she stepped out into the wider hallway again, she suddenly felt as if a weight had been lifted off her chest and placed back on her bladder, which was now screaming at her. She pushed through the swinging door and moved left, where the sign for the women’s staff restroom was prominently displayed.
She opened the door and moved quickly to a stall, which she locked firmly before sitting down and taking what seemed like her first deep breath in minutes.
*
Jessie barely slept that night. Part of it was because of what she’d seen. It wasn’t even that she was shocked to discover Teddy with another woman. It was more his brazenness, doing it essentially out in the open.
But what really ate at her, what kept her tossing and turning all night, was Kyle’s reaction when she’d told him.
“She was literally pulling her dress back down when I saw them,” Jessie had said indignantly.
“I’m not making excuses for him,” Kyle had replied. “I’m just saying sticking our noses into their business seems like more trouble than it’s worth.”
“But he’s cheating on Mel. I like Mel. I can’t do nothing.”
“After what happened with the Miners, you want to open that Pandora’s box again?” he erupted.
“This isn’t the same,” she had insisted, equally agitated. “Melanie’s not just a neighbor. She’s a friend.”
“Yeah, and so is Teddy,” Kyle countered. “So why would you want to go and blow up the marriage of our friends?”
“I’m not trying to do that but she has a right to know.”
“It’s not our business, Jessie,” he insisted. “Besides, how can you even be sure what you really saw?”
“What are you suggesting?”
“You said it was dark,” he reminded her. “You had to go to the bathroom. Your hormones are all over the place because of the pregnancy. Maybe you misinterpreted things.”
“Like you think I did with the Miners?”
“You have to admit it’s possible,” he said. “Did you ever change your medication like we talked about?”
“Yes, I did. And I’m fine. I’m not some crazy chick having hallucinations, Kyle!”
“I didn’t say that,” he said defensively.
“Not in so many words. Look, I’ll talk to Mel and she can make up her own mind.”
“No. I forbid it.”
“You forbid it?” Jessie repeated incredulously. “Who do you think you are? I know things have changed since we moved here but not that much. You don’t get to forbid me from having a frickin’ turkey sandwich, tough guy, much less speak my mind. Have you forgotten who you’re dealing with?”
They’d gone to bed without saying another word to each other.
*
Jessie replayed the conversation in her head as she showered the next morning. Neither of them had spoken as they got ready. When she got out of the shower, he had left for the day. It didn’t really matter. Though she wasn’t certain whether she was doing it out of concern for her new friend or spite for her husband, she’d made her decision. She was telling Mel the truth.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Jessie showed up at the Carlisle house unannounced around mid-morning. Daughton, whom she hadn’t considered, was napping. After a few minutes of chitchat that Jessie found ulcer-inducing, she decided to just dive in, regardless of the consequences.
“I saw something disturbing last night and I feel like I have to tell you about it, even though I’m worried you’ll be upset with me,” she said, abruptly interrupting Mel’s dissertation on bottle nipple cleaning.
“Okay,” Mel replied slowly, her brow already furrowed.
“I made a wrong turn down a hall at the club and stumbled across Teddy. He was with a woman, one of the hostesses. They were coming down some stairs. And it was pretty obvious that they’d just…been intimate.”
Mel stared back for a few seconds without speaking. Jessie tried to place the expression on her face but couldn’t identify it at first. It wasn’t one she’d predicted, like shock, anger, or shame. And then it hit her. Mel’s face displayed resignation.
“I’d hoped we wouldn’t have to have this talk for a while,” Mel said, sounding almost apologetic.
“This is not the reaction I was expecting,” Jessie said.
“Yesterday, when you asked what went on in those Oath Minders meetings and I said I didn’t know, I wasn’t being completely honest.”
“What do you mean?” Jessie asked.
“I mean, I didn’t really want to know. But I could guess.”
“You’re going to have to help me out here, Mel,” Jessie said, trying to rein in her frustration. “I’m a little lost.”
“Club Deseo isn’t just your standard issue country club,” Mel explained. “Teddy told you the word ‘deseo’ means ‘wish.’ And that’s true as far as the general public is concerned. But the word can also be translated as ‘desire.’ And behind closed doors, that’s how members define it. Club Deseo is a safe space for couples who are into open marriages. Or more accurately, for husbands who are into them.”
“Still lost,” Jessie said.
Mel seemed to be having some internal struggle about how to proceed. But after a few seconds, her eyes took on a steely seriousness and the words spilled out.
“There are lots of members who are into open relationships. Or who just want to have affairs. But they’re wealthy, powerful guys who don’t want to risk their reputations by pursuing that stuff in public. So the club protects them. It creates a secure environment where members can have access to women without fearing exposure in the larger community.”
She stopped talking and watched Jessie, seemingly waiting for the inevitable reply.
“This is a known thing?” Jessie asked, shaking her head, as if trying to wake herself up from a bad dream.
“In certain circles, yes,” Mel replied. “It’s all very organized. The club selects the ‘hostesses.’ It pays them so members are never at risk of being accused of solicitation. The girls are the most well-paid restaurant hostesses in the western world and that doesn’t include their ‘tips.’ The club even has them tested weekly for drugs and STDs.”
“And you’re cool with this?” Jessie asked, disbelieving.
“Of course not,” Mel snapped. “I mean, I wasn’t. You have to understand—I didn’t learn about all of this until we’d been members for a year. I still don’t officially know. It’s not like anyone ever sat me down for ‘the talk’ like I’m doing with you.”
“The talk?” Jessie repeated.
“Yeah. I had to piece it together on my own over months. Teddy still hasn’t come clean with me about what he does. It’s just this unspoken thing that we both know is going on.”
“But how can you put up with this? I woul
d have thought you’d have kicked his ass and walked out the door the second you found out.”
“There was a time when I would have,” Mel said wistfully. “But by the time I found out, we were…entrenched. You have to understand, we lived a very middle-class life for a while. And then Teddy’s favorite uncle died and left him a fortune in the will. Suddenly we were flush. Our lifestyle changed. I liked it. I never questioned the little club my husband wanted to join, or why. And then I had Daughton.”
“So you felt trapped?” Jessie asked, trying to wrap her head around it.
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Mel countered. “But when I figured out what was going on, I was used to this new life. I was used to the money and the lifestyle, all of which was made possible by Teddy’s money, not mine. And somehow, the club normalized everything, made it seem like it wasn’t that big a deal. None of the other wives seemed all that perturbed. So why was I going to make such a big fuss? It felt like it would be almost…rude.”
“They brainwashed you.”
“No,” Mel said. “I wish I could place the blame totally on them. But I’m responsible too. I made a choice. I gave up some of my freedom and a lot of my self-respect. But I got other things in return. As long as I don’t rock the boat too much, I get this amazing life. I don’t have to work. I can spend time with Daughton. I have financial security. And as long as Teddy doesn’t rub my nose in what he’s doing, I can pretend everything’s copacetic. It was a trade-off I was surprised that I was willing to make.”
“I don’t think I could make that trade-off,” Jessie said.
“You might surprise yourself. You’ve already started down that road and you didn’t even realize it.”
“Are you saying that Kyle is cheating on me?” Jessie demanded.
“No. But if he moved here based on Teddy’s recommendation, then it’s not a coincidence. And you’re settling nicely into your big house, taking occasional classes at the local university, and having mid-morning coffee chats with other wives. You’ve already gotten used to it.”
“But I would never get used to Kyle sleeping around.”
“You never know what you’re capable of until the moment comes,” Mel said, her voice suddenly icy. “Please don’t judge me for my choices.”
“I didn’t mean it that way—”
“Let’s just move on. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Mel said. But it clearly wasn’t.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Jessie felt like she was going to explode.
It had been more than twenty-four hours since Mel had revealed the truth about Club Deseo. And in the time since, Jessie hadn’t discussed it with anyone. Not that there were many choices. She couldn’t just bring it up with Kyle, not until she’d fully processed it herself. She didn’t feel ready to deal with it formally with Dr. Lemmon. That left one person.
She called Lacey Cartwright that morning, fully expecting to get her voicemail again. But this time, she actually picked up and she had a couple of free hours around lunchtime. That’s all Jessie needed. She was in the car and headed for downtown LA within minutes of making plans.
“You need to be straight with Kyle,” Lacey said at lunch after listening to the whole story. “Tell him where you stand before it’s too late. If he doesn’t get it, just move back here. I’ll put you up for a while. Hell, I’ll even help foot the bill for your divorce lawyer. I know a good one.”
She fished a business card out of her purse and tossed it on the table. Jessie was about to reply when the waiter brought over another basket of chicharrones. Lacey had chosen B.S. Taqueria for lunch and Jessie approved, even though she couldn’t have their signature drink. It was called a B.S. handshake—a Tecate beer in a can with hot sauce, lime, and salt piled around the mouth. Lacey was on her second and Jessie jealously salivated just looking at it.
While she waited for the server to leave, Jessie debated how to approach the topic with her longtime friend. With her tall, model-thin body, creamy auburn-colored skin, and traffic-stopping good looks, Lacey Cartwright wasn’t well-acquainted with the concept of having to compromise. If she wanted something, it usually happened.
She’d known Lacey since college, even longer than Kyle, since they were freshman roommates. But they’d taken very different paths since leaving school. While Jessie had gotten married and had her academic fits and starts on the way to pursuing her master’s, Lacey dived right into her passion a week after graduating from USC, working as a buyer in the fashion district for two years before locking in a position with a boutique fashion designer. She was well on her way to starting her own dress design firm before thirty, which had always been essential to her goal of becoming the most influential lesbian African-American fashion designer in America.
But because she was so singularly focused on her career goals (she hadn’t been on a date in over a year), Lacey wasn’t especially sympathetic to the concessions of a married, well-off white girl, especially one whose husband she had often described as “self-focused.” Trying to explain why she didn’t just come clean was going to be a challenge.
“It’s more complicated than that, Lace,” Jessie began. “We’re entrenched down there now. We have a home. Kyle loves his job. And I’m having a baby.”
“But if he’s cheating…” Lacey started to say.
“I don’t have any reason to suspect that. I don’t even know for sure that he knows about how this club works. I don’t want to make any assumptions. We moved there because of his work and conveniently, one of his friends lives nearby. It could be as simple as him wanting to hang out with his buddy and use the club for the connections. I know he’s already signed up at least seven members as clients. He doesn’t seem restless. If anything, I’ve never seen him happier, especially with the baby news. It’s just that he’s…changing.”
“How so?” Lacey asked, surprising Jessie by not leaping in with another opinion.
“I don’t know,” Jessie said hesitantly. “He just seems a little emotionally absent sometimes. I don’t know if it’s all the work pressure or the new environment or what. He’d say I’m imagining it. He thinks I imagine a lot these days. And maybe he’s right. Maybe I’m seeing things that aren’t there. But I am seeing them.”
“So what do you want to do?”
“He’s the father of my unborn child,” Jessie said. “He’s the love of my life. What I want is to make this work. At one point I wanted us to move back here. But not now. Now I need to see if I can find the man I married in there somewhere. Otherwise it doesn’t matter where we move. I need to see if he can be the old Kyle, even with all this new stuff in our lives. I believe that guy’s still in there somewhere.”
“And if you can’t find him again?” Lacey asked.
“Then I guess I have to think about leaving.”
The server returned with their entrees and Jessie was glad to stop talking because she was having trouble believing the words that had just come out of her mouth.
*
Jessie still didn’t understand how she was here.
She’d pretty much given up hope of getting to return to DSH-Metro. So it was a surprise when Professor Hosta called her on her way back from lunch with Lacey to tell her she’d received authorization to meet with Bolton Crutchfield again the next day. Unexpectedly, he made no reference to their argument after her last visit.
Now, as she passed through the last exterior door and into the lobby of the NRD unit where Officer Gentry stood waiting for her, a belated thought occurred to her. She’d been so excited about the chance to return that she’d never asked Hosta why she had been granted permission.
She was certain that someone in a position of power was pulling the strings to let her make these visits. But for what purpose, she didn’t know. Part of her desperately wanted to solve that mystery. But another, more ambitious part of her worried that asking questions might backfire and shut down the visits
entirely. So for now, she resolved to keep her mouth shut.
Officer Gentry reminded her of the rules as they made the walk down the long hallway that led to the NRD unit. She repeated them with the same seriousness of purpose as before, as if it was for the first time.
Cortez was once again manning the security station, though some of the officers were different than the last time. He seemed focused on a task and merely nodded at her, skipping the flirtatious small talk. Maybe he’d been given a talking-to.
Just before they entered Crutchfield’s cell, Gentry paused and turned to face Jessie. She was clearly debating whether to say what was on her mind. Finally, very quietly, she spoke.
“He’s missed you. Use that to your advantage.”
Then she pressed the emergency key fob remote into Jessie’s hand and opened the door. They stepped inside. This time Crutchfield was visible right away. He was sitting crosswise on his bed, his back propped against the wall, reading a book.
It was too dark to see what it was and Jessie didn’t want to seem overly interested anyway so she sat in the chair from her last visit and kept her head down until Gentry turned up the lights enough for her to actually see clearly. But Crutchfield didn’t wait for that to engage her.
“I thought you’d done forgotten about me, Miss Jessie,” he said with something bordering on amusement. Apparently he’d decided they were now familiar enough that “ma’am” was no longer necessary.
“I have other patients to visit, Mr. Crutchfield,” she said, which was technically true.
She fought the urge to banter with him, even though she suspected it was what he wanted and that it might win her points. She doubted she could keep up. And she sensed, without being told, that keeping things professional, at least initially, would serve as potentially needed psychological armor against whatever he might throw at her.
“You here to answer some more of my questions?” he asked.
“I’m here to ask you some,” Jessie said. “If you’re forthright, maybe we can come to some accommodation.”