Who's Crying Now

"No, I'm not," I snapped.

"Karla, what's going on?" he asked. I explained to him that Kevin had left me without going into the details of why. He was very compassionate. He put me in for a paid leave of absence. He also told me that if I needed anything to just ask.

At first I thought that the call had been a waste of my time. I could get another job anywhere. What I couldn't replace was Kevin. But then I had a thought. I quickly called Kevin's job and asked if they could please have him call me as soon as he got in. The reply I got rocked me to my core. Kevin had quit his job, and picked up his last check. He'd used "Family Emergency," as his reason for leaving. I slammed the phone down angrily and started crying all over again.

Surprisingly the phone rang again almost immediately. I picked it up, hoping it was Kevin. It was a police officer and things were about to get worse for me.

He put Jerry on the phone then. Jerry needed for me to come down to the station and bail him out. I was out of ideas and I needed to get out so I told him I'd come down to talk to him.

I wasn't sure that doing anything that involved Jerry would be a good move on my part. The one thing I didn't want to have happen was for Kevin to decide to talk to me and find out that I had even seen Jerry. I started to refuse, but decided that I might need Jerry to talk to Kevin for me. Maybe Jerry could calm Kevin down.

When I got to the station, I told them who I was there to see. A female Desk Sergeant, showed me to a room. A few minutes later, Jerry was brought in. He was handcuffed but it seemed to be a formality more than any consideration that he was a danger.

"Mr. Mathers, you have to keep your temper under control," the woman said as she left the room. Jerry sat down and put his hands over his ears. He started crying. The Sergeant must've heard him because she rushed back into the room and started trying to comfort him. It took her a few moments to calm him down and then she left again.

"You don't look much better yourself," she said to me.

"Jerry," I said. He looked up at me.

"Sorry, but I had no one else to call," he said.

"Just tell me what happened," I said. "I need to be home in case Kevin calls there or decides to come home."

"There's no chance of that, Karla," he said sadly. "He's gone. He's moving to another state to start over. He told Mary that he had no idea where he wanted to live. He just needed to be as far away from you as he could get. He could be headed anywhere."

I just stood there in shock as his words rolled over me. He had to be wrong. There was no way. This couldn't be happening to me. I suddenly leaped at Jerry and started hitting him as hard as I could. I split his lip and scratched his face up before a couple of officers came in and pulled me off of him.

They were going to kick me out of the room but Jerry screamed at them to let me stay. "I just had to give her some really bad news," he said. They pulled my chair farther away from the desk and told me not to get out of it.

"Jerry what else did he say to you?" I asked, desperately.

"He didn't say anything to me," he mumbled through his busted lip. "He spoke to Mary. He went to tell her goodbye and now sorry he was that he couldn't be there to help her or support her anymore."

"Kevin told Mary about us?" I asked in shock.

"He should have," said Jerry sadly. "But your husband has too much class for that. All he did was to tell her that he was leaving. He didn't mention us at all. But he and Mary are pretty close. She could tell something was wrong and asked him about you. He told her that you guys were done. That was all he said. He kissed her goodbye and left."

Jerry started crying then and had to stop talking.

"Karla, when I got there, Mary was thinking and she kept asking me questions. She told me that he didn't look angry as much as he looked hurt. She kept running it through her mind. She started asking me questions. She came up with the fact that you were cheating on him all on her own. I think it was just a theory at first. And then she started asking me if there was anyone from when we used to work together that you were especially close to. She was looking at my face the whole time. I tried to keep my face blank, but I'm not very good at lying or hiding the truth. One second she was asking me if I knew anything about you screwing around. I tried to tell her it wasn't like that. And she asked me how I knew. I didn't know how to answer that and she just read it in my face.

She turned red in the face and just threw it at me. I wasn't prepared for it. "How many times did you fuck her?" she screamed at me.

Before I could even say anything she was trying to get up and she pushed the call button to get a nurse in the room. "Get out of my room motherfucker!" she screamed at me. All of a sudden there were nurses everywhere. She pointed at me and told them to keep me out of her room. I wouldn't leave. I had to tell her that I love her and that it didn't mean anything, but they were just pushing me out. Then the security guys grabbed me and I fought back. We knocked over a lot of the equipment in the room and they called the police.

"You have to get me out of here, so I can talk to her," he said.

I did bail him out. But I only saw Jerry two more times. The next time was three weeks later at Mary's funeral. After that day, she never spoke to Jerry again until the end. No matter how hard he tried, she wouldn't see him. Her condition worsened as if she had just given up the will to live. Finally, when it was obvious that she had only a short time left, the nurses relented and called Jerry.

He looked like hell after the funeral as he told me about their last moments together. "She looked up at me and said, "Oh, it's you. In a way I'm glad you're here. I have a question that I've been struggling with. Why did you marry me?"

"I married you because I loved you," I told her.

"So did you stop loving me when you started fucking that home wrecking whore, or did you just start up with her because you knew that I was going to die?" she asked me.

He looked at me with tears in his eyes. "I knew that I needed to come up with something good," he said. "I also knew that Mary could pick my words apart, so I had to be careful what I said..."

"What did you say?" I asked him as he burst out crying again. He wiped his eyes and shook his head. "I didn't get a chance to say anything," he said. "She died before I could open my mouth. My wife died thinking I didn't love her. This is all, our fault Karla. You and I killed her. We fucked to celebrate her getting better and it ruined two marriages and four people's lives. Her family barely let me come to the funeral. They look at me like I did this. The woman I loved for most of my life, died hating me."

"She didn't hate you," I told him. "She was angry and hurt, that's all. But she did hate me. I tried to see her to apologize and all she did was to scream at me and curse at me before kicking me out of her room. I just wanted to tell her that I was sorry."

"I tried the same thing with Kevin," he said.

My head snapped up at the sound of my husband's name. "Kevin?" I blurted out.

"He flew in this morning. Mary's family allowed him to see her body before the funeral. He brought a huge beautiful bouquet. I found out later that he spoke to her on the phone, pretty often during those last few weeks. It was pure luck that I saw him leaving the funeral home just as I was getting there. I tried to talk to him but he just walked right past me and ignored me. He didn't come to the funeral because he didn't want to see you or me."

I couldn't believe that Kevin had come home and hadn't seen me or even tried to call me. The next time I saw Jerry was less than two weeks later at his own funeral.

Mary's funeral had been crowded and full of people who loved her. Jerry's was small and somber with only a few people in attendance. His sister, whom I'd only met a few times glared at me and walked away from me when I tried to give her my condolences. I got the idea that she knew about what had happened between Jerry and me. I think that in her grief she was looking for someone to blame for her brother's death and the end of his marriage and in her mind, I fit the bill. It hadn't been anything I did. Jerry simply couldn't go on. He truly believed that our actions had caused the death of the woman he loved. I didn't believe that.

But apparently Jerry did. He had all kinds of pain killers and other potent medicines left over from Mary's cancer treatment. He combined them all into one powerful dose, mixed it all together, swallowed all of the pills one after another and washed it down by drinking liquor until he blacked out. He never regained consciousness. The note he left claimed that he'd followed Mary into the next world to beg her for forgiveness and so they could be together again. His note also claimed that people who are that much on love should never be apart. I understood his feelings on the subject. Being away from Kevin was killing me. I wondered if Kevin cared enough about me to follow me into death, but I doubted it. If he wanted to talk to me or be with me all he had to do was call. But I'd killed the love he had for me, the same way that Jerry believed that we'd killed Mary.

The rational part of my mind told me that cancer had killed Mary. Perhaps what we did had sapped her of the will to fight it, but we hadn't killed her. The only thing we had killed was my marriage and Jerry's. And we'd probably killed my career. I had started drinking too often and too much. My performances on camera had suffered.

My producer told me to take more time off because the thing that made me special, my on camera enthusiasm and curiosity about things was gone. I came off now, like I just didn't give a fuck. My ability to care was gone as well. He showed me a tape of me covering a story about a fire at a nursing home and I had to admit, that it seemed like I had no sympathy at all for all of those poor, sick, old people who'd become homeless. He was right.

I was using all of my money, hiring detectives to find my husband. He owed me the chance to explain. I just needed to talk to him. Surely we could do that. He had to listen to me. The pain in my heart just wouldn't go away. I understood Jerry. The only thing that kept me from joining him was the fact that I hadn't had my chance to explain or to talk to Kevin. Jerry had at least had that.

It's been six years now. Six years of drinking and quitting and therapists and hope and heartache and crying. But deep in my heart, I know that we're not done. Deep within me I know that someday we will at least talk. That's what I live for."

The bartender looked at me with pity written all over her face.

"That's some story," she said. "I think you have to just give up on the guy and move on. You don't want to spend your whole life on some guy that doesn't want you anymore. You made a mistake. Be a woman and get past it. Besides you don't even know anything about him anymore. He may be remarried with six kids."

"I fought the divorce with everything I had. He finally got it under protest, three years ago for abandonment. He can't move on either. He's had three or four short relationships. And none of them lasted more than a month or so. Every one of them tore my heart out. But it's always been him who broke them off. I think it's because he can't get over me either."

"If you don't know where he is, how...?" she asked. I smiled at her.

"I know where he is now," I said. "Everyone does. He's kind of famous now. I always knew that Kevin would be successful. It just took him longer. It's tougher to make it as a writer than as a reporter."

"A writer?" asked the bartender in shock. "Karla Canard...I should have put two and two together. Your husband isn't Kevin Canard is he?" I just smiled and nodded.

"But...but he's famous," she stuttered. "I mean...he writes books and movies and...He's dreamy. You were soooo stupid!" She just looked at me and kept shaking her head as she walked away. She went to deal with another customer and then pulled out a cell phone and started talking into it animatedly.

"I never knew any of that. It all makes sense now," said a voice behind me. I turned and saw two women behind me. The smaller more petite one was my producer Meg. The taller, more mannish looking woman was my new camera-person Deena.

"That's why you only work smaller markets now," she said. "And it's why you won't work with a male cameraman."

"I feel so bad," she said. "I thought we were friends. Why haven't you ever told me any of this?"

"Sometimes it's easier to talk to a stranger," I said. "Even if they do judge you, you're never going to see them again. So what does it matter?"

"Well, it might've helped to clear up the reasons behind your odd mood swings every once in a while," said Meg. I got the feeling that we were about to hit one of those touchy-freely moments. It almost felt like she was going to give me a hug.

The bartender was making her way back over to us. She seemed to have a big smile on her face. At the same time or very close to it a small nerdy guy walked into the bar. He was wearing the white shirt and black pants that most of the waiters wore and clutching a book in his arms as if it was a treasure.

"Karla, I need a favor," said the bartender. "This is like fate."

"What is?" I asked suspiciously.

"This is my boyfriend, Greg," she said pointing at the nerd. He's like the biggest Kevin Canard fan ever and..."

"I'm the biggest Kevin Canard fan...EVER!" I corrected.

"Okay, I'll concede your point, ma'am," said Greg. "But could you get me his autograph on my copy of his latest book?" As he said it he was making the puppy dog face.

"Even if I wanted to...how the hell would I get to him to ask him?" I asked bitterly.

"Uh, that's the easy part, Ma'am," said Greg. "He's doing a book signing across the street at the hotel I work at. The line is around the block, but I'm sure that snooty manager of his would have to let you in. He's here for the weekend for the big book fair. He's also here because his favorite band as a kid is performing down the street."

As he spoke, my heart rate increased. A slight sweat broke out on my forehead. I was both nervous as hell and so happy I could burst at the same time.

"Let's go," I growled, snatching the book from Greg.

"Are you sure?" asked Meg. "I mean maybe you should come up with a plan. You could pretend to be interviewing him for a story and see if any sparks fly. It might be a way to...you know preserve your dignity...just in case?"

The look on her face told me that she was every bit the friend she claimed to be. So much of our ability to communicate with other beings is nonverbal and involuntary. Concern oozed out of her. She really didn't want to see me hurt. It went beyond just worrying about her on-air talent. I smiled back at her. I was so excited to see Kevin that I was giddy.

Meg insisted on coming with me and so did Greg. We left one hotel and crossed the street to the next. Since Greg worked there, he led us right to the hall where the signing was going on. Even before we got there, I saw signs and posters about Kevin's appearance at the book fair and the signing. Seeing your husband's face on a poster that was at least five times bigger than real life, does a lot to make you nervous. Having women stop and stare at the posters doesn't help much.

The closer we got to the hall, the more nervous I became. I needn't have worried though. We took the elevator to the floor the hall was on and lost Greg. His manager had been looking for him and sent him off to do something. When we turned the corner we saw a line of people standing in the middle of the hallway. As we got closer to the line it dawned on me that Meg had probably been right. Most of the people in the line were holding copies of Kevin's newest book.

There were several people who probably worked for Kevin's publisher keeping things orderly. Meg and I got into the line and looked at each other.

I guess that both of us thought that we'd be able to just walk up and talk to him.

The woman in front of us in line was staring at me as Meg and I spoke. She tapped me on the shoulder.

"Uhm...aren't you...I mean I'm a really big fan and well, you used to be some kind of reporter right? And weren't you married to him once?" she gushed.

"She still is a reporter," said Meg.

One of the people from the publishing company had heard us and came over. He stared at me intently as we spoke.

"You shouldn't be in this line ma'am," he said. "Let me see if I can get Heather. Come with me."

We followed him through the line stepping in front of most of the people outside of the hall. The rumors of who we were travelled faster than we did. I heard all kinds of whispering going on and everyone stared at us. We politely made our way through the doors and into the hall where our new escort spoke to another guy from the company. This one had on a headset. He listened to our escort and looked me up and down and started talking into his headset. Greg rejoined us then.

"That's Heather Murphy," he whispered. "She's his business manager. You know I never noticed it before, but seeing the two of you in the same room, it makes sense."

"What makes sense?" I asked.

"She's you," he said. "Look at her. She's a younger, taller, prettier, better-built version of you."

"But with glasses," interjected Meg.

I looked across the room. There was a tall, thin, busty, blond woman hovering over Kevin. She massaged his shoulders and spoke to each person as Kevin signed their book and made small talk for a few seconds. As we watched the headset wearing guy beside her tapped her on the shoulder and pointed at us. Even from across the room, I could see the change in her expression and body language. She looked me up and down and whispered something in my husband's ear. She obviously didn't mention me to him because he kept signing books.

I noticed something about her then that angered me. She was always touching him. Even as she stepped away from him, her fingers trailed down his arms and along his hand until she could no longer reach him.

It took her a few moments to walk across the floor, that's how big the room was. As she came closer to us the room got smaller. It seemed like that room wasn't big enough for the two of us.

"Oh my God, She's awesome," blurted out Greg beside us.

"Hey cowboy, don't you have a girlfriend across the street?" asked Meg.

"Yeah, but she's not like that. That woman is like the sexiest librarian on the fucking planet."

"I'll bet those glasses aren't even real," spat Meg.

"I'll bet her boobs ARE," spurted Greg.

I'm not small busted by any stretch of the imagination, but seeing Heather approaching made me button another button on my blouse. Meg actually grabbed her own tiny boobs and lowered her shoulders to make them even less noticeable.

Heather was delayed by another headset guy. But even as she spoke to him, her attention was clearly on us. She removed her glasses and stuck one of the arm pieces in her mouth. Her clothes, floored me. She, I had to admit, had a very good sense of style. Her suit looked like the female version of a Brooks Brother's suit. The cut was amazing. The skirt stopped about six inches above her knee though. The bottom of the jacket was at the precise length as the bottom of the skirt. If you looked at her from the back, it would appear that she was only wearing a jacket. Her legs appeared to be too long to be human. Her shoes were six inch heeled black pumps that I'm not sure I could have walked in.