Tied Up in Knotts Ch. 09

"You'll know when the moment comes. This will bring you luck and prosperity."

"I could really use those two things in my life."

"Oh, sweet Nash. You are the luckiest, most prosperous person I know."

I stayed for several hours before he finally kicked me out, telling me that I had better things to do than hang out with an old man. He was wrong of course. So very wrong.

****

On the way home, I stopped at market for food. I didn't want the food to go bad so I only bought what I knew I'd use between now and Thailand. I was walking to the truck with a full bag in one arm when I saw Shayla. We made eye contact and then she looked away, not sure what to do next. I nodded toward the small coffee shop that sat in the strip next to the market. She bit her lip but locked her car and walked toward the coffee shop anyway.

"You have time for a cup?" I asked as she neared.

She let out a breath so deep I swear she'd been holding it for weeks and nodded. The café was small and nearly empty. With chains like Starbucks and Dutch Brothers, they didn't get the business they one did. We both ordered and made our way to the table. It was definitely awkward. Did we start talking now and then get interrupted when they brought us the coffee or did we wait until we had the coffee so we could talk in peace?

"How are you doing?" I asked. She didn't look like she was doing well.

"I'm doing about as well as one could expect when they find out their husband has been cheating on them with another person. Not a woman like you'd expect, but a man." Shayla almost looked like she found the whole thing hilarious. "Sorry, I shouldn't be smiling. I'm actually fucking pissed but I don't know what else to do. You can't make this shit up. I guess, you of all people, understand me."

"But I don't," I laughed. "Yes, I understand the cheating thing but not the preference thing. Lee cheated with a man. If he'd been sleeping with you instead, well that would be a different story."

Shayla sat up straight just as the barista brought our drinks. When she was gone, Shayla looked at me.

"I've got to ask. Did you suspect?"

"That Lee was cheating? No, not at all."

"Not even a little? Nothing?" She asked, confused that I might have actually been blindsided.

"Trust me, I've thought about it a lot. I scoured our history for every little sign. Sure, I see things now that could've been signs but only because I now know what to see. Even if I could go back, I don't think I would've pieced it together. What about you?"

"Oh, I knew he was cheating. Our marriage has been rocky for a while and I suspected there was someone else for most of that time. I asked him a few times if there was another woman, he'd get angry and yell at me for questioning him. That's when I knew for sure, he reacted like a guilty person."

"And that it was with a man?"

Shayla rubbed her face. "I don't know. I was shocked but also, I wasn't. I'd always had this feeling in the pit of my stomach that I ignored. I didn't even know what I was ignoring until the truth came out. To be honest, I was more shocked about it being Lee. I mean, I knew my marriage was in the toilet but yours?"

"Turns out mine was too."

"Yeah, well, when I got home, I was furious. I sent the kids to the parent's house and waited for Paul. When he got home, I laid into him. It wasn't so much about him and me, I'd been waiting years for our blow up, but how could he do this to someone else?"

I looked at her and smiled. Not because it was funny but because our reactions were so different. "You seem to be handling everything okay, given Paul is likely gay and all."

"Paul's a lot of things, adding gay to it doesn't change one of them. Like I said, I've been expecting this, to some degree or another, for years. I'm glad it came to light because now I can move on. And now I have an excuse to take his ass to the cleaners. I'm fighting for anything I can get. No regrets," she smiled. "And you?"

"I can't say I'm quite as put together as you. I still feel a bit blindsided. I just signed all the paperwork to move forward with the divorce, though no one knows, so shhhh," I pressed my finger to my lips. "But I'm not handling any of it well. I don't want to be with Lee anymore but I'm still having a hard time letting go. He refuses to acknowledge anything about him and Paul. We were going nowhere in counseling when he slipped up and mentioned that they had talked. For all I know, they're still...whatever they are or—" I couldn't even find the words. "I don't think I'm doing anything right, or that's how everyone makes it seem. I'm not treating Lee like the asshole he is, I'm not trying to clean him out, I'm not dragging him through the mud. I just want this to be over. I don't know," I sighed. "Maybe I'll be a new person when I come back home. Maybe I'll have new perspective and I'll do it the way everyone says I should."

Shayla reached across the table and took my hand. "I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to come across crass or to somehow make you feel like you're not handling things well. We're living very different realities. No matter what anyone says, you're the one who has to live with your decisions. I respect that you're taking the road less traveled. No matter how Lee treats you, the fact you refuse stoop to his level speaks volumes of who you are. At the end of the day, you're the one wiping the floors with us."

I smiled, though it was hard. "Feels more like I'm being wiped."

"Well, you are," she grinned. "But not for long. Maybe that vacation will be everything you hope."

"I don't even know what I want from it."

"I guess we'll find out soon enough."

We talked for another ten minutes but then it was time for us to part. As we walked out of the café, toward the parking lot, I found the courage to ask her what I wasn't even sure I wanted to know.

"Do you think Lee and Paul are still—"

"Together?" she asked, then she thought about it. "I don't think so. I heard them fighting on the phone the night I made him pack up and move out. I didn't catch all of it but it wasn't good. I have a feeling they were better off a secret. I don't know if Lee thought they'd work out in the light of day but I know Paul well enough to know that won't be his path for a while, if ever. I did check our phone statements the other day, out of curiosity. Calls and texts between their numbers has dwindled a lot. Communication looks almost non-existent now. Does it really make a difference to you?"

"Of course it does. It might not change the outcome but it still matters to me, personally."

Shayla nodded, "Yeah, I get that. I wish it was different for you. I really do."

Two weeks before I left for Asia, I met with Lee. It was the last time we'd see each other until I got back from vacation. Then, I'd serve him papers. We decided to forgo counseling in lieu of a long lunch—per Lee's request. He didn't have to ask me twice. I hated going to counseling with him anyway. We actually had a decent time together. He offered to drive me to the airport and was genuinely upset when I declined. I already had plans to go to Portland the night before. I was staying with my friend, Joe, who worked for Yevo in the Portland area. We were going to catch up and then he was driving me to PDX the following morning.

We touched on money a little bit. It was something we talked about every week just to make sure we were on the same page. If sharing money during this weird time was going to work, communication was critical.

It got weird for me when I stopped working. I hated being dependent on Lee. But guilt, and the illusion we were trying to make things work, made him generous. Money didn't seem to be an issue. He never made comments about my purchases and let me do as I pleased. I knew his generosity would stop when he got served divorce papers but until then, I'd take what I could get. After he was served, he'd be a fool to do something drastic like try and cut me off. He knew how bad that looked in a judge's eye.

Lee had also respected my physical boundaries and hadn't tried to touch me, not after the therapist explained how highly disrespectful it was of him and how he needed to earn that privilege. The fact it had to be explained to him spoke volume. That alone was worth all the money we paid her.

Which is why, when we were leaving lunch, it came as a shock when he ran his fingers through my hair. I think it was supposed to be an affectionate gesture but after everything that he'd done to me, it made my skin crawl and my stomach churn.

Lee looked at me, then the fingers in my hair, the way he had for so many years. "If I had known how sexy you look with long hair—"

Would he not have cheated on me?

I wanted to make a snarky comment but there was no point. I didn't want to hear what he had to say anyway. I gently pulled away from his touch, which made me feel gross. Even on the drive home, I couldn't stop feeling disgusted about it. There was no a particular reason why I hadn't cut my hair. I just hadn't. But I hated knowing he liked it.

****

Like every Wednesday, Penn was sitting on the sofa, waiting for me to return from my time with Lee. He was ready to comfort and support me depending on my mood. He had piled his jacket and a few blankets on the chair so we'd both have to sit on the sofa. I think it was his way of trying to close the gap I was putting between us. It didn't work. I moved the pile and sat in the chair anyway.

"How'd it go?" He asked as I slumped back in the chair.

"Fine. I mean, it was good, I guess."

Penn sat forward with his elbows on his knees, waiting for me to share my day but my mind was stuck on the way Lee had touched me, defiled me. It was so different from the way Penn touched me and how Penn made me feel. I thought of the way Lee looked at me with hunger and wished it had been Penn. The fact I was comparing the two made it all so much worse.

"I have to go." I stood up quickly and walked outside.

Penn followed me to the truck. "You just got home. Where are you going?"

I paused at the truck door and looked at him. "I just, I just gotta go."

He looked at me like I'd kicked him and tried to throw him in the river but he didn't make me stay.

****

"Hey, Nash—"

"Cut it off. All of it."

Kelsea was caught off guard but quickly recovered. As a hairstylist, she had gotten far crazier requests than a man asking to buzz it off. She knew why I was there and looked at me with sympathy. She was half right, I needed to cleanse myself of Lee. But I also needed to cleanse myself of the feelings I felt for Penn.

Kelsea held the cape out and waited for me to sit in the chair so she could work her magic. Soon, there wouldn't be enough hair for anyone to touch. Not Lee. Not Penn.