Secrets, p.16
Secrets, page 16
“Aw.” Luna’s eyes got a little misty. “I promise I will not pull the emergency brake if he makes a move. How’s that?”
“And what about you? A little physical contact couldn’t hurt.”
“Like what?”
“Touch his arm, put your hand on his back. Oh jeez, Luna, do what you always do when you’re around him. If I didn’t know better, I would think you two were having a thing.”
“It’s a thing all right.” Luna snorted. “Just what kind of thing is the question.”
Ellie rolled her eyes. “Whatever ‘thing’ you want it to be.”
“OK. Enough high-school chatter. Let me ask you something.”
“Of course.”
“Do you recall any fires during those two years?”
“In the summer, there are always fires. Irresponsible campers, or some idiot tossing a lit cigarette out a car window.”
“Maybe I’ll go to the library and check out the local newspaper editions from those summers.”
“That’s an excellent idea. If you want I’ll go with you,” Ellie offered.
“Really? That would be great.”
“If I remember correctly, this was going to be a group project.”
“You are correct.” Luna smiled. “When I get back from my adventure.”
“You have a deal, my friend.” Ellie gave Luna a hug. “I’ve got to run. Nathan and I are grabbing a bite to eat.”
Luna perked up. “Oh? You and Nathan?” she said accusingly.
“It’s not what you think,” Ellie protested.
“Ha! We shall revisit this conversation at a later date.” Luna gave her a knowing look.
Just as Ellie was about to leave, she said, “By the way, brilliant move on the Cullen and Chi-Chi front.”
Luna looked a bit confused.
“I know you had your hand in that rendezvous. Ciao!” Ellie smiled and left the café.
Chapter Twelve
After Tori’s trip to Stillwell
When Tori returned home from her first junket to the art center her husband was at work. She carefully unwrapped the beautiful hand-blown magic ball. She looked around but couldn’t decide where to hang it. It really didn’t go with any of her boring, Early American décor. She had to think about the last time they bought any new furniture. It had been years. Some of the furniture had come with the house and it still remained, probably because they could never agree on what style to purchase. He didn’t seem to care unless it was her idea. Then he would decide he didn’t like it. When she asked him what he wanted, he’d shrug. “Anything but that,” referring to her idea. She managed to get slipcovers for the sofa without any negative repercussions. Come to think of it, he never even mentioned it. She thought about buying new living-room furniture without him, then dealing with his objections, but it wasn’t worth it. He would just sulk for days, and things were tight enough. After thinking about their inability to agree on most things domestic, that’s when she decided to wrap the ball in its original tissue and place it back in the pretty shopping bag. She was going to stash it in her closet until, well, until she decided where it should go. For the moment, it was going to be her little secret.
She set the origami crane on the buffet chest in the dining room. She wondered if he would even notice it.
Tori went into the kitchen to fix herself some dinner only to find dirty dishes in the sink and the casserole dish from the stew sitting on the counter. She tossed the remains onto another plate and planned to pop it in the microwave after she began the ritual of cleaning up after him. She knew he wasn’t a bad guy. Just selfish and lazy. Must be a genetic defect with the Y chromosome. She chuckled. That seemed to be the main complaint she heard from other women as well.
She was surprised to see he had left a note, smudged of course, but it said Thanks! She couldn’t remember the last time he wrote down anything for her.
Before she pressed the start button on the food-zapping machine, she decided to change her clothes. When she went into the bedroom, she found a second note:
I’ll be staying at Jack’s tonight after my shift so we can get an early start tomorrow.
That was it. No, “love ya, love, see ya.” Typical. At least she knew she would get a good night’s sleep. If she could sleep. The half-hour drive home did not allow for any decompression from the day. And it had been quite a full day. Between the sensory overload of all the artwork and crafts, and her meeting with that Luna person, there was a lot of stuff in her head that needed sorting. One thing was for certain—she would be going back for an origami workshop, and again to see Luna. She was elated that she had made a number of decisions on her own. It was refreshing and invigorating.
Tori slipped into a pair of jogging pants and a sweatshirt and returned to the kitchen to heat up her dinner. She sat in silence, reliving the day. She stopped in the office. Drove to the center. Watched anxiously to see if she could get into the psychic’s café. Bought a magic ball and made origami. Saw the psychic for a few minutes. But those few minutes were very revealing. There was no way that woman could know anything about Tori or her situation. She was convinced it was through divine intervention that she had heard about that woman Luna, and because of her journey, she discovered more things about herself. For one, she could make a decision, even if it was a small one. Secondly, she could take control over her life, as much as anyone could take control. Then she thought about the odd shop with the metal sculptures. How odd, she thought. The honor system. But then again, the entire place had a vibe about it. Mysterious, yet obvious. Exhilarating, yet relaxing. It was hard to describe.
She fixed a cup of tea and ran a bath. Full circle, she thought. Once again, she poured Epsom salts under the running water and let the level rise until it almost overflowed. She dimmed the lights, lit a few candles, and lowered herself into the tub. She put her hand on her belly. She wasn’t showing yet, but she could feel something.
Tori lingered in the bath until the water became tepid. Time to step out and wrap up in a towel and robe. She padded her way into the bedroom and flopped on the bed. Tonight she would be sleeping alone. She figured it might be good practice. Even though her mind had been racing, she finally fell into a deep sleep.
When she woke the next morning, she realized that she and her husband hadn’t spoken to each other the entire day. She had left for the center, he to work, stayed at a friend’s, but not one phone call. That was out of the ordinary. He usually wanted to know every move she made. Maybe the artsy thing had turned him off. She could add that to her list of things her husband didn’t like about her.
Tori fixed her usual breakfast of toast and decaffeinated coffee and got ready for work. It dawned on her that she was unusually relaxed. Maybe the bath, she thought again. They should put it in pill form. Then she realized there were a lot of pills that could make you relax but she had never tried any of them. Maybe she should have before she got pregnant. Maybe it would have made her less numb to the loneliness.
Tori put herself together but with a little more effort that morning. A little more eye shadow and blush and a good blowout with her hair. She looked in the mirror and gave herself a thumbs-up.
Satisfied that the house was in good order, she made her way out the door, into her car and off to work, stopping at the coffee shop on the way. She figured Mr. Layton, George, might need a little pick-me-up donut after a frustrating day of golf. She could not remember a time when he had been happy about how he played. But from what she understood about the game, it was frustrating to a lot of people. She wouldn’t know. She had never played.
Tori pulled into the parking lot and entered the shop. She realized it was Thursday and looked around for the woman who wanted her to go to Ringo’s but didn’t spot her. She had hoped to get more information from her. She shrugged and ordered the usual, paid the check, and headed to the office.
When she reached her desk, she pulled out the pad and paper of the notes she had made about divorce in North Carolina. Did she really want to go through with it? Should she try to have a conversation with her husband and air her issues? That would seem like the reasonable, adult thing to do, but she wasn’t sure if he had ever reached adulthood in his emotional intelligence level. They had loved each other once. Or it had felt like love at the time. Then again, she had only been eighteen, with no idea what life was about and what was expected of a spouse, a job, a friend. Responsibility. To each other first. The rest of the world came second. She thought about that for a good long time until George Layton stood in his doorway and asked her to come in.
“Have a seat.”
“Am I in trouble?” Tori felt more nervous than usual.
“Not at all.” He gave her a warm smile. “I see where you were going through some of the law books about divorce.”
Tori was surprised that he knew she had been researching the subject.
“You left one of the books upside down,” he said kindly.
“Oh, dear.” Tori was embarrassed. “I hope you don’t mind that I went into your office when you weren’t here.”
“That’s not a problem, Tori. But if you have questions, you can always come to me with them.”
“Thank you. I very much appreciate that. It’s just that I didn’t want to bother you with it. You have been so kind to me.” Tears welled up in her eyes.
“Have you discussed any of your issues with your husband?” he asked.
“No. Not really. Actually, not ever.” Tori dabbed her eye with the back of her hand.
“Don’t you think that would be a better place to start?”
“I . . . I guess so, but he can be so stubborn I was worried it would blow up into a horrible fight.”
“Has he ever been violent?”
“No. Not to me.”
“So what is stopping you from trying to have a conversation with him?”
“I guess it’s because he can be intimidating. He’s forceful in his opinions.”
“So you’d rather avoid any confrontations with him, is that correct?” Layton was starting to sound like a lawyer.
“I suppose.” The tears were now streaming down her face. “I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because when I was growing up, there were always fights between my parents, and I never knew if they would blow up at me. Well, at least my dad was reasonable when he was around, but that was usually never.”
George put his hands behind his head and leaned back in his chair. “May I offer you a bit of advice?”
Tori sniffled. “Yes, of course.”
“Try having a talk with him before you pull the plug. He can’t magically know what you’re thinking. He deserves that much, at least.” He sat upright to stress his point. “Unless you tell him what’s on your mind, he will never know.” He snickered a bit. “Men don’t have the same kind of instincts women have. We’re a bit dense.”
Tori smiled. “You are right about that, Mr. Layton. No offense. I mean George.”
“I would suggest you do it in a neutral place. Not at home. It’s too easy to go into another room and slam the door behind you. But someplace public, maybe a park?”
Tori had a blank look on her face. “But isn’t it too public to have a private conversation?”
“I’m sure you could find a quiet bench somewhere. We have plenty of parks around here. Plus, if for any reason you felt you were in danger, you would be in earshot of a passerby.”
Tori looked horrified. “I cannot imagine him getting violent, but you have a point. It would kind of force us to have a reasonable conversation if he knew people were in the background. Plus, he’s a cop, and a lot of people know him. He wouldn’t want to show a bad side of himself in public.”
“See? You are getting my drift. Pack a lunch. People usually function better if they’re not hungry.”
“So I should invite him on a picnic?” She looked at him curiously.
“If that’s the excuse you have to use. The other option is to go to a counselor and have a mediator.”
“Oh, I don’t think he’d ever go for that. He wouldn’t want a stranger learning anything about him. Plus, that would be an admission that things aren’t great in paradise.”
“Well then, try to get him to spend a little time. Tell him you need to talk to him about something important.”
“He’ll just say ‘go ahead.’”
“That’s when you need to be firm. Not nasty. Not mean. Just firm. Don’t waffle. And if he doesn’t want to give you the opportunity to have a discussion, then you could threaten him with a separation.”
Tori looked horrified. “Wow. All of my thoughts are coming to life. It’s one thing if you’re thinking about doing something. It’s an entirely different matter when you actually have to do it.” Tori sighed. “I know you’re right. I’ll muster up the courage to ask him to take a walk with me. I might leave out the ‘talk’ part until we’re actually outside.”
“You don’t want to blindside him either.” He leaned in her direction. “Give it some thought. Write down what you want to say and memorize it. I always find writing something down gives you more clarity.”
“Thank you so much. This has been a big help.” Tori was no longer misty. “You’re right. I can’t expect him to know what’s on my mind if I don’t tell him.”
“You said you had ‘grown apart.’ Maybe you can replant some seeds. Oh my, no pun intended. Sorry.” Layton’s face went red.
Tori chuckled. “That’s OK. Kinda funny.” She sighed. “I’ll try to remember what it was about him that made me like him. The running-away part is kinda obvious. We were both running away from bad situations.”
“You know what you were running away from. It’s never too late to figure out where you want to run to.”
Tori got up from her chair and returned to her desk. She answered the dozen-plus e-mails that had arrived the day before. They had lunch delivered and ate in the break room. Tori looked around and imagined how she would arrange it so it was comfortable for a baby. Maybe a new paint job, move a few things around, and create a comfortable space in the corner. She thought a nice folding screen would provide privacy but also add a little style to the room. She would also put something cheerful on the walls. Right now it was an outdated yellowed map of the state. She decided the lighting could be better instead of the old, ugly, buzzing fluorescent tubes. A couple of inexpensive floor lamps would create ample illumination. They could always turn on the ugly lights if necessary. Yes, a DIY remake of the break room wouldn’t take much and it would be a nice distraction. The idea elevated her mood. Once again she was feeling more in control. Little by little, but it was progress.
After lunch, she did some research for a case of land encroachment, and before she knew it, the day was over. She cleared off her desk and said good night to everyone. She checked her phone. Nothing from her husband all day. It had been over twenty-four hours. Maybe his phone battery had conked out while he was fishing. That thought made her wonder about dinner. Would he be bringing home a freshly caught fish? She decided to call his cell. It went straight to voicemail. She sent a text.
Hope you’re having a good day.
What do you want to do about dinner?
It took several minutes for him to respond.
Didn’t catch anything. Heading to Ringo’s.
Be home later.
That’s when Tori decided to take that strange woman’s suggestion and go to Ringo’s that evening.
When she got home, she changed her clothes and fixed a salad. Maybe she would grab a burger at Ringo’s. She was feeling the need for red meat. She wasn’t sure if she should let him know she was coming. Maybe showing up would be a nice surprise for him. Show him she was interested in what he did in his time off. It would also be a good opportunity to tell him she wanted to have a conversation with him. Maybe over the weekend.
Tori decided to wear a nice outfit and do her makeup as if she were going out somewhere special. She knew he would be puffed-up proud if she showed up looking her best. After all, she was a pretty woman, especially when she did her hair and dolled up her face a bit.
She pulled out a navy-blue jumpsuit from the closet. It had an empire waist, and she thought she might still be able to fit into it. She stepped through the pant legs, then the armholes, and then zipped it. Now she remembered why she rarely wore it. It was a production when you had to go to the bathroom. Why didn’t designers make them with . . . ? With what? Velcro? Or maybe stretchy straps so you could pull it down instead of having to unzip it and practically disrobe. This would be the jumpsuit’s farewell performance. She looked in the mirror. It looked great on her. No baby bump yet. She still had maybe two more months before she started to really show.
Her hair was now down to her chin, so she tucked one side behind her ear. She donned a nice pair of costume-jewelry earrings. Nothing flashy. Just enough to draw attention to her face and her pretty eyes. She added just a touch more makeup than usual. She took another look in the mirror. Maybe there was hope for her yet.
She’d grabbed her purse, keys, and phone and started on her way to Ringo’s when a burst of panic hit her. What if he got mad that she had showed up at “his” place? Would it be embarrassing to his friends? She stopped and calmed herself. Walk in with a smile and say hello to everyone as if you belonged there. His coworkers liked her, so they would probably be glad to see her. Maybe not glad, but they wouldn’t be annoyed. Men generally liked to look at pretty women. And vice versa. Women liked to look at handsome men. It’s just that women rarely said it out loud.
Tori parked the car and walked toward the outer door. It was an enclosed porch entrance with an interior window that looked into the bar. As she swung open the screen door, she spotted her husband through the glass. She also spotted a rather sleazy-looking woman hanging on him like a Christmas ornament. Tori froze in place. She watched the woman playing with her husband’s hair, and he wasn’t doing anything to dissuade her. She moved to the side of the window where she could still watch in shock but not be seen by the people inside. She pulled out her phone and sent him a text to see what he would say.
