September 2010

Sitting on the bed typing thank you notes to friends and relatives, his voice cut through my thoughts. “I don’t understand why you won’t come with me.” Mack was packing his suitcase. “You have the time off, and the change of scenery will do you a world of good.”

I was growing annoyed. We’d been having this conversation for the past week. “You don’t understand. I’m not ready for a trip like that. I still have so much to do here.”

“But you really don’t. Your dad said he’s got everything under control. He thinks this would be good for you too.”

I looked up from my laptop. “You talked to my dad? You talked to him about me?”

He shrugged my question off like it wasn’t a big deal. “I did. I’m worried about you Lena.”

I closed my laptop and walked towards the bedroom door. “If you’re worried about me, you should talk to me. Don’t go running to my father because you’re not getting your way and you want some sort of external support. It doesn’t work that way. I said I don’t want to go, and I’m not going. My mind is made up, and you need to drop it.”

I closed the bedroom door behind me and went to the kitchen. The house should smell like cookies, I thought to myself. I started to take out the ingredients for snickerdoodles, ignoring Mack’s presence sitting at the counter.

“Lena, tell me you won’t spend the next four days baking and I won’t bring it up again.” His tone was softer, more appropriate for his wife. He’d been talking to me like I was a petulant child for a while and I’d had enough. I turned and looked him directly in the eye.

“Eric, I’m going to do whatever feels natural to me while you’re in Milan. If I change my mind and decide to join you, I will. I love that you are concerned, I do. But don’t push this, and don’t push me.” I didn’t know what else to say to make him understand. I turned back to the task at hand, measuring out flour, sugar, and cinnamon.

I heard him move near me, and then his arms were around my waist. I smelled his cologne, citrusy and fresh. He kissed my neck softly. In that moment, I knew he got it, knew nothing he did or said would fix what I felt. No beautiful scenery could make me forget that my favorite person in the world had gone, and nothing I baked could bring her back. I tried so hard not to, but the flashback forced it’s way to the front of my mind.

I had just pulled the roasted chicken out of the oven. Candles were lit, and the table was set. Nina Simone was singing about a brown-eyed handsome man. The phone rang. I let it go to voicemail; I didn’t want to be distracted from our Sunday dinner.   But the phone rang. And rang. After the phone rang for a third time, I answered.

“Lena Smith.” I was surprised to hear my dad’s voice on the other end of the line.

“Lee…” His voice trailed off, I could barely hear him.

“Dad? Speak up, I can’t understand what you’re saying.” There was the sound of a wounded animal, shuffling and then another voice.

“Miss Smith? I’m Dr. Barden from the Brooklyn Hospital emergency room. I’m sorry to inform you that your mother was in a car accident…”

I felt like I was in a vacuum. I was trying to make out what the doctor was saying, but I couldn’t hear whole sentences. I could only make out phrases like ” drunk driver”, “blood loss”, and “crushed skull”.

This stranger was trying to tell me that my mother was dead. I heard it, but couldn’t process it. I couldn’t accept that, my mother was on her way to have dinner with me. There’s no way this person could be telling me that I would never see my mother again.

I ended the call. I couldn’t listen any more.

“Lena. Lena.” I heard Mack’s voice, but that couldn’t be right, he was still in Brazil. “Lena, please wake up.” That had to be Mack. I opened my eyes.

“Eric, I thought you weren’t coming home until Thursday.” I was glad the lights were dimmed; my head was pounding.

“Baby, today is Friday. I’ve been home since Monday. When Tim called me I got on the next flight back.” He spoke slowly and clearly, as though he’d been reading a prepared speech.

Slowly, I sat up. He continued, “When I got back, you were just sitting on the couch. You’d been sitting there since you got the call. I eventually got you to bed, but you were having night terrors. You’ve been sedated since Tuesday.”

I didn’t remember any of what he was telling me. “I’m tired.” I went to lie back down.

“You, you can’t go back to sleep Lee. Today is the funeral.” It was only then that I’d noticed he was wearing a black suit, white shirt, and black tie. “I chose a dress for you, you just have to put it on and then we can go.”

“I can’t do it Mack, I can’t go.” I felt my face flush as the tears formed.

He sat next to me and held my hand. “Lena, you have to go. I know you feel like it’s impossible now, but you’ll never forgive yourself if you don’t go today. I’ll be right there with you the whole time.”

I felt my knees weaken. Mack caught me then, as he always had. He carried me to bed, and rubbed my back while I cried.

When I woke up in the morning, he was gone. He’d left one of his credit cards and a note on the nightstand. Flour or a flight, your choice. Love you. M.

I eased into the day, slowly returning to the groove of my life. After yoga, I met Marie for coffee. As always, being around her was comforting. Something about the warmth in her voice and the sincerity of her words made me feel like I was home, regardless of where we were.

“I don’t want to push you hun, but I think you should go.” I’d brought her up to speed about Mack’s latest trip and my refusal to go. I was expecting her to side with me.

“Did he talk to you about this?” I could hear the defensiveness in my voice.

Marie put her coffee cup down and looked me in the eye. “Absolutely not. When it comes to my involvement in Eric’s personal affairs, you are off limits. You know that.”

“I’m sorry.” I felt bad. “I really didn’t like that he talked to my dad, and I was thinking about going but I don’t know, maybe I’m just being stubborn.”

“The change of scenery will give you a change of perspective. And you are absolutely allowed to start drinking Italian wine after breakfast. Indulge yourself hun, you need some self-care right now. New York City is not the place to do it.”

I nibbled and at my croissant and considered what my friend said. She was, of course, right. I considered why I didn’t want to go. If Mack was telling the truth and my dad really did want me to go, what was the point of staying home alone? If I was being honest with myself, I didn’t want to be sad anymore.

“Alright. I’m going.” I could feel a small weight lift from my shoulders.

“Is that a smile I see? Do you need me to help you pack? Should I buy your ticket?”

“You have me confused with my husband,” I laughed. “I can do things myself. Go ahead back to the office and I’ll text you when I land.” I hugged Marie goodbye, and walked back to my apartment.

I got off the plane feeling like a brand new person. I was going to hate admitting to Mack that he was right, but he was. I pulled out my phone and sent him a text. I’ll see you soon.

“Buona sera signora. How may I assist?” The portly concierge had a kind voice that made me smile.

“Buona sera. My husband is checked in here, and his assistant made arrangements that I could pick up a room key.” I handed him my passport and looked around while he verified my information. Guests were dressed and heading out for dinner, and I couldn’t remember when my last meal was. I hoped Mack hadn’t eaten yet.

“Here we are signora, you are in room 717. Will you be needing assistance with your luggage?” He handed me the room key.

“No, I should be fine. Thank you.” I headed to the elevator, smiling at some of the familiar faces I saw. Thankfully, I was going in the opposite direction. I was feeling anxious and didn’t want to talk to anyone.

I wheeled my suitcase to the door and inserted the key. I called for Mack, but got no response. The shower was running; I assumed he hadn’t heard me. Walking towards the bed, I heard a soft moan. I stopped just in time to see a dark haired woman on her knees in front of my husband.   He was standing with his head back and his eyes closed.

I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. I traveled across the world for this? I had to compose myself. Drawing myself up to my fullest height, I tapped the woman on her shoulder. She jumped and Eric’s penis flew out of her mouth. “Excuse me, could you give my husband and I a moment? We need to talk.”

“Lena! What are you…”

I quickly cut him off. “Let’s not play this game Eric.”

The woman was cowering in a corner. Eric tried to walk towards me, but I had already grabbed my bag and headed towards the door. Over and over he called my name. Finally I made it to the elevator, but it was moving slowly. Eric caught up to me. “Lee,” he started.

“Do. Not. Speak.” I spat at him. “I am humiliated. I can not believe you did this.” I was trying to gain control of my breathing, but it was so difficult. I looked at him in the eye and asked, “Was this the first time?”

Eric was having trouble keeping eye contact. “Lee.” I cut him off again.

“This is a yes or no question. I only want to hear you say yes or no.” He met my gaze and softly said, “no.”

I pushed Eric, hard. Finally, the elevator appeared.

As I walked past him, he said my name one more time. I heard pleading in his voice.

I stepped on and said clearly, “You are to blame for this. This is your fault. I never want to speak to you again.”

March 2011

Lee,

Do you remember our wedding day? It had been raining for 3 days and you’d been planning on the outdoor ceremony. Everyone was telling you to do the backup plan, but you were adamant. The morning of, there was drizzle, but when we got to the park there were just clouds. When you walked down the aisle and stood next to me, I noticed that the sun was peaking out. I remember thinking then as long as I had you fighting on my side, I’d be ok.

I knew with my work schedule there would be nights that I wouldn’t be with you. It’s been 6 months. I want to say that I’ve gotten used to the idea of you not being here, but I’d be lying. I know this is my fault; you left because I withheld information, I lied. But I wish that you’d give me the chance to show you that I would never betray your trust again. Let me see you, speak to you in person. Please.

 

April 2011

Eric-

My lawyer has advised me to inform you that each letter you send to me of a personal nature will incur a $50 administrative fee. That charge will go to you.

You should know that I don’t want to see you. I meant what I said.

Marlena