February Sucks: Same Old Me (3of4)

"God, that's awful."

"The thing is, I felt like I deserved it. I still feel that way sometimes. I mean, I didn't have a perfect marriage. Barry and I had our differences, just like everyone does. Every marriage has its challenges and tough times, doesn't it? We fought, but we always made up. We weren't rich, but we weren't hard up for anything, either. We loved each other well enough. We were ordinary and comfortable. It was... real. It was genuine, and sincere, you know, lived in. Scars and all. Things were good a lot more often than they weren't."

She stopped and took another garlic knot. She didn't eat it, she just kind of contemplated it.

"I admit, our marriage suffered a bit after we became parents. That's pretty normal isn't it? But god, it was so, so worth it. Jenny was my life. She's a miracle. It was hard to see sometimes, when the work just never ends and you're tired and frustrated and always, always, always running around cleaning up a mess... but being her mom is the best thing I ever did. I couldn't imagine my life without her.

"But I turned my back on all of that. I betrayed everything I had, everything I was, just to chase a dream. My family couldn't rely on me. I deserted them. And that's on me. I was tricked, yes. But it was my choice, and I'll be paying for it for the rest of my life. Marc LaValliere cost me everything. My husband. My daughter. My home. My family. My friends. My self-respect."

"Wow. Uh. I hardly know what to say. Um. What have you done with yourself since then? How have you been able to cope?"

"I haven't done much. I haven't done well. The best thing I can say is that I'm... rebuilding. Or trying to. Jenny was eight at the time. She turned nine during the divorce. She's eleven now. I don't have full custody, but I have every other weekend, half the holidays, and a month during the summer. The time I spend with her is awkward. She still hasn't forgiven me all the way, but she knows how miserable I've been, how broken, and she sees me trying to make it up to her. At least there's that; I'm trying. Barry is now civil towards me, which is more than I expected. We've managed to co-parent. We have a kind of a truce. Jenny is 'neutral ground' between us. He's never tried to turn her against me. But, god. The way he looks at me now. He tries to hide it for Jenny's sake, but there's nothing in his eyes for me but contempt. He's just... dismissive. He doesn't look at me with any love in his heart. I'm just pathetic, to him." She swallowed a small sob. "He knows how badly I got burned. He doesn't need to do anything else to me to have his revenge. He doesn't lord it over me or say 'I told you so.' He doesn't have to.

"Barry hasn't remarried, and I don't think he will anytime soon. I don't think he's even really dated anyone, not seriously, anyway. He's got a lot of perfectly understandable trust issues. I murdered the nice, gentle, decent man he was. He's probably going to be as miserable as I am, for the rest of both our lives. I know I don't have any hope of getting him back, ever. I haven't dated anyone else either, and I don't really want to. I mean, being with Marc was like a drug. It was a high. It's like I overdosed on sex and it made me sick and nearly killed me, so now I've lost my taste for it. Plus, I've got my own set of trust issues now."

"So. Nobody new? For either one of you?"

"My libido dried up and fell off two years ago. I'm glad to be rid of it. It's caused me nothing but trouble." She regarded me with sudden alarm and then pointed at me with a pizza crust. "This," she said, waving the crust back and forth between us, "This is NOT a date. You understand that, right?"

"Oh. Oh god no. Is that what you think? I mean, it's not like you're unattractive, but..." Shit. I was digging a hole and getting flustered. "I mean, shit. I'm in no shape for that kind of thing. I can't even think about it. I'm sorry. I didn't mean... were you getting that from me? Like, I didn't mean to... I'll just shut up. No. Not a date. Not now, not anytime. Relax. Sorry."

"No. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be a bitch. I just have my guard up. But... okay, so why did you want to meet with me? Just to trade stories?"

"Kind of. I mean, the thing that really bothers me is that I don't understand WHY. Not really. Linda can't tell me. I don't think she even knows. I mean, there's some things I've learned, and other things I've come to understand that were right in front of me that I never understood before, but I can't talk to her about it. She's a whole different person now... but also, she's ALWAYS been a whole different person, and I just couldn't see it. It's like I NEVER knew who she really was or how any of this could happen. So I guess I was just looking for some other perspective."

"I can see that." She mopped a pizza crust in the garlic. "Well, I don't know your wife, and I don't know you, either. I don't have a clue about what your marriage was like. But I can tell you that Marc LaValliere targeted your wife because he saw the vulnerability that makes his little game possible. His target is happily married, or she thinks so, but she's also bored, maybe tired, and probably feeling older and not so beautiful. Not because of anything you did or didn't do. That's just marriage. No matter how romantic YOU try to be, if it's coming from her husband, it doesn't mean as much. It's your job to demonstrate affection. It's nothing special anymore. That simply can't compete with the rush you get from the unexpected attention of a handsome stranger. It creates a euphoria that's nothing like anything you could give her. Except, of course, right at first when you WERE the handsome stranger."

"I've heard something along those lines before. Boring old Jim can't compete with something shiny and new... and, uh, better in every way. But it's such a cheap trick!"

"It IS. It is a cheap trick. And it works. Do you know how many thousands of women get flirted with by random guys and it supercharges them for their husbands? It becomes fantasy material for masturbation, too. Just... getting the message that you're attractive, even from some passing jerk you don't care about or wouldn't date, well, it makes us feel beautiful." She shook her head. "And Marc uses it like a weapon. Like... like a bazooka or something."

A thought occurred to me. It was crazy, but...

"Do you think you could talk to her?"

"Who? Your wife? Why?"

"Because she doesn't get it. She doesn't understand what she did. It's been more than a month. I haven't laid a finger on her since... The Event, and I'm not going to. I got divorce paperwork prepared. I have a plan for the kids. And still, she thinks I just need to 'get past it,' and everything will be like it was before. Part of her thinks so, anyway. She clings to that, even though our marriage counselor has tried to tell her that she's in uncharted territory. It doesn't sink in."

"And maybe my sad tale will scare her straight? Is that it?"

"Or at least get her to understand that this kind of shit really does end marriages."

She looked at the tablecloth for a few moments.

"What the hell," she said. "It's not like I've got anything better to do. Barry's got Jenny this weekend anyway. Keep your wife at home, and I'll swing by Saturday morning. A stranger in her house might serve as a wake-up call."

***

I arranged to have Emma and Tommy and Sven spend Saturday with the Nessman's kids and their dog Charlie. After I dropped them off, I met up with Alison at the coffee shop where I bought three drinks and a bag of breakfast sandwiches, and she followed me in her own car back to the house where Linda was waiting.

Linda had put on a beguiling low-cut sweater top, in that same fucking color of blue to bring out her eyes, and was beaming another one of her second-best smiles at me until she noticed Alison in tow.

"Jim... who's your friend?" She glared at Ally, who was placidly standing behind me holding the drink carrier.

"You must be Linda. I'm Alison. Do you know who I am? Have you heard my name before, or seen my picture anywhere?"

"I have no idea who you are, or what you're doing in my house with my husband." She reared up, openly hostile. As if she had any right to be.

"You're... you're jealous? Oh. Oh my. That is priceless." Alison broke into a truly prizewinning smile and stepped across the threshold behind me.

"Jim. Who is this woman and why is she here? I thought we were going to use this time to... talk." She meant that she was going to use this time to try to seduce me again.

"I'm Marc LaValliere's ex-girlfriend. One of them, anyway."

Linda stepped back a bit.

"He never mentioned me? I never came up in your pillow talk?"

"No."

"I'm not surprised. He's probably forgotten all about me by now. It's been about two years. There have no doubt been many more women since me."

"I'm... not Marc's girlfriend."

Ally snorted. "Okay, so you don't understand how this works yet. Look, you don't know me, but I know you. I WAS you. When I first met Marc, I was out at a club with my husband, Barry, celebrating our ten-year wedding anniversary. Marc took me away from Barry for a dance, which turned into a lot of dancing, which somehow turned into having my legs in the air in his room at the Madison. Does that sound familiar?"

All of the color had drained from Linda's face. She'd crept into the living room while Ally was talking and finally slumped down on the loveseat. Ally joined her with the coffees and wordlessly handed her one.

"Let's get something out of the way first. I have no designs on your husband. I haven't slept with him, and I'm not going to. I'm sure he's a lovely man, but if there's one thing I hate more than anything else in this world, it's Cheating. Marc LaValliere turned me into a cheater, and it broke up my marriage and ruined my life. I'm not going to have anything to do with that, ever, EVER again. Jim is still married, for the time being, anyway, so he's off limits. Even if he wasn't, my own love life is a burned out ruin, and I doubt I'll ever love again. So, I'm no threat to you. Got it?"

Linda nodded, still in shock.

"I'm here to tell you three things, then I'll be on my way, and you and Jim can have your talk. Hopefully, you won't have to hear from me again. The first thing is that You Are Not Special. Marc has been love-bombing you and making you feel like a magical fucking fairy princess and you can't even believe it's real. That's because it's not. You Are Being Played. This is what he does. He gets off on poaching married women. It's a power trip. If you weren't so obviously in love with Jim, Marc LaValliere would never have looked your way. You are just a plaything to him, and you're the latest of many. Once your life has been destroyed beyond repair, he'll grab another married woman and kick you to the curb as soon as you've got no husband and no home to go back to... just like he did with me."

"Listen... you've got it all wrong. It's not like that, it's..."

"Yeah, yeah. I said the same thing. You're in denial. That's phase one. I know there's no talking to you right now, but I'm saying it anyway. It might sink in eventually. Number Two."

"Hang on..."

"Nah. I've got things to do today and I want to make this quick. Number Two is that You Fucked Up. You did the worst possible thing you could to your marriage, you did it on purpose, and there is no going back. I don't know of any marriages that have survived Marc LaValliere. If there are any, I guarantee they didn't come out unscathed. Right now Jim doesn't owe you anything. You're completely in the wrong, and if you think you're going to stay married to him, you're gonna have to reset your expectations."

"Look, you've got a lot of nerve..."

"Lady, I AM you, remember? I know your story. I lived through it myself, okay? He did to me what he did to you. Now I'm divorced, I lost my daughter, I lost my home, I lost everything, and it's happening to you, right now, but you don't seem to understand any of that yet. I'm your wake-up call, here."

"It's not like that!"

"Hmmpf. I wonder if you're fooling yourself with that kind of talk, because you're not fooling anyone else."

"You can't talk to me like that in my own home!"

Ally turned to me. "Does she still live here?"

"For the moment. But that's kind of up in the air right now."

"JIM!"

"Just saying."

"Look. I am not seeing Marc! It was a one-time thing, that's all! It was just... a little adventure. Nothing has changed! Not really!"

Allie looked at me. "Thought you said it was a two-time thing."

"It was. She didn't think I'd find out about the second time, so she believes it doesn't count."

"That was the menage-a-troi with her friend?"

"Yeah, the friend who ran interference for her the first time. She's a serial cheater, too, and her husband is divorcing her even as we speak."

"Lovely people your wife associates with."

"You don't know the half of it." I looked at Linda, but kept speaking to Allison. "So it's at least two occasions that I know of, but there may have been more."

"Jim. I never meant to hurt you. You know that."

"You couldn't have hurt me worse if you HAD meant to."

"Number Three." Ally stood up and collected her purse. "Sorry, I don't have all day. Linda, you have chlamydia. Or, rather, Marc does, and he doesn't use condoms. He knows he's got it, but he's asymptomatic and he likes giving it to his married conquests. He must think it's funny or something. You need to see a doctor right away." Linda curled into a ball and started breathing rapidly through her mouth. "Jim, you can do what you want with this Cheater, but if I were you, I'd stay clear of her until she shows you two clean STD screenings, spaced six weeks apart. That's starting AFTER Marc dumps her for his next victim, of course."

She opened the door and turned to us one last time.

"Sorry, it's been lovely, but I've got to be on my way. Thank you for breakfast. This was good. Maybe we should do it again sometime."

"I'll call you. Thanks for coming by."

"No problem." Ally turned to leave, then looked back. "Remember, Linda. You're not a fairy princess, you're a pawn in a game. Jim does not owe it to you to stay married to a cheater. And, please, see a doctor." She softened a little. "If you eventually need to meet up with me and compare notes when all this is over, I won't be a bitch about it. Maybe we need to start some kind of support group or something. God knows there are enough of us around for it. Jim knows how to reach me." She turned back to me. "Jim, good luck." I nodded.

With that she left.

Linda was still curled up on the love seat, crying. I was at the kitchen table eating one of the breakfast sandwiches. My estranged wife eventually collected herself and joined me.

"Was that for real? Or are you just messing with me? Did you just find some random woman, some actress, to come in here and humiliate me? Is this your idea of a practical joke?"

"As far as I know, she's for real. Remember how I had somebody watching Brennegan's? I found Alison from the same sources. I've been searching for more of Asshole's conquests for a while now. She's the first one I found."

Linda was still sulking.

"I think the idea of a support group has some merit, actually." I took another bite of sausage egg muffin. "For the women, for sure. Maybe they could band together and follow him around. Maybe stage an intervention when he goes for another wife. And for the husbands? I should definitely buy Barry a beer sometime."

"This isn't funny."

"I agree."

"Do you really think I might have chlamydia?"

"Maybe. This is the first I've heard about it from anybody else, but you knew I was worried."

"I thought you were just being cruel."

"Maybe I was, but I was also serious. It's a genuine risk."

She wouldn't look at me.

"I think... maybe I should go to the doctor. Or a clinic. Whatever it is. I'll get tested. Just to be sure."

"I think that's a good idea."

"I'm sure I'm fine. I feel fine."

"I hope you are."

"I feel fine," she said again. "I mean, I know, I know, that doesn't mean anything, but I feel fine."

"I really hope you are. But... like you said. Asshole has had a lot of women. A LOT of women. And they all have husbands. Or HAD husbands. And all of them have history. We're talking about cheaters. You can't guarantee they're all clean. And then there's Dee. You... you went down on her, didn't you? To make HIM happy. Now think about all those one-night-stands she told you about. All those strangers. All those men, they're the kind of men who screw random sluts, because that's what they were doing with her. How much of their semen had gotten into Dee? How many... gallons of it? From where? Where all else had they been? It's not safe, honey. You opened the door to a lot of scuzzy people with awful habits."

Linda was crying again.

"I... I was hoping that today we could...with the kids out of the house..." she looked down at her own cleavage and waved her hands, "but, but, but that's not going to happen, now, is it?"

"No. It's not."

"I'll... I'll go today. I'll do it right now."

"Good." I stood up to leave.

"NO. Jim. Come with me. Come with me, please. I can't do this alone. It's... embarrassing. I'm ashamed. I'm so... please. Please. Please. Don't make me do this alone."

I looked down at the weeping mess of my estranged wife.

Damnit.

"Get changed. I don't like that color blue on you."

"But you... I don't... all right."

We went. Ten days later, the tests came back. She did not have chlamydia, or anything else.

I still wouldn't touch her.

***

One night not long after that, I came home to the smell of a delicious dinner, and the sight of Linda wearing her blue party dress- the SAME GODDAMN DRESS she'd worn on Leap Night, and flashing a smile that was trying to be her best but was betrayed by her lack of confidence. I couldn't help it, all I could see was my wife in Asshole's arms, giving him her Best smile, eager for what they would soon be doing together. I shuddered and turned away from her, not even having crossed the threshold into the house. Linda's face had crumpled; tears puddled in her blue eyes. I'd seen Emma and Tommy behind her, putting the silverware on the table, but watching us intently.

I heard and felt Linda come up behind me in the doorway while I fought to control my anger, my sickness, and my tears.

"I didn't mean... I meant..."

"I know what you meant, you stupid..." I said, hopefully quiet enough that Emma and Tommy wouldn't hear. "You bought that dress to wear for me... so you say. You wanted to put on a show just for me this time. Like some kind of reclaiming, right? It never occurred to you that I might see it as you rubbing my nose in it. God. How am I supposed to look at you in that thing and not think about that night?"

"I'm sorry. I'll.. I'll go change."

"Don't bother. I won't be here tonight. Enjoy your evening with the kids. I just can't be anywhere near you right now. I'll be back tomorrow. I Do Not Ever Want To See That Fucking Dress Again. Do you fucking understand?"

I didn't wait for her reply. I ate at the Willing Mind and let Lynn play therapist that night. It wasn't until a few days later that I realized I'd forgotten it was Linda's birthday. She must have been trying to make an occasion of it.

***

The DNA tests came back.

The children weren't mine. Neither one of them.

Emma shared twenty-five point two percent of her DNA with me. Seventeen hundred twenty cM across fifteen segments. Tommy was twenty-four point eight. Sixteen hundred seventy-seven cM across fifteen segments. They had the same mother, and the same father, but the father wasn't me. According to the test, I was their uncle or a "double cousin," whatever that meant.