Taking Chances (2 page)

“Alright,” he said. “Hey, do you need a ride? Are you OK?” I stopped walking towards my car, and my knees gave out. I sat on the floor crying. Harvey must have been dumbfounded at the sight of me because it was a few seconds before he did or said anything. Eventually I felt his hand on my shoulder, patting me.

“How can I help?” he asked. I surrendered to the fact that I would not make it to the hospital like this, so I told him.

“I’m having a miscarriage,” I spit out, gasping between words. He stood me up and helped me to the passenger seat of his truck. He walked around to the driver’s side.

“Where to? The hospital?” he asked. I looked at him and nodded, so grateful to have him— anyone— here with me at that moment. We drove in silence, and I sent my boss a quick text saying I had to call out sick today. I didn’t give any details, and that would have to do.

When we arrived I filled out my name and reason for coming in. I was let into a room rather quickly and told to wait for the doctor. They took blood, and then we were left waiting.

“Does Greg know?” Harvey asked. It was the first thing he’d said since he walked me in and told the lady at the front desk I was having a miscarriage and had to be seen right away.

“No, I haven’t told him,” I said.

“Wait, about the baby or the miscarriage?” he asked.

“Neither.”

“Do you want me to call him?” He reached into his pocket for his cell phone.

I looked at him, tears once again spilling down my cheeks. The concern in his eyes was evident. I recognized it should come from me, but I didn’t know if I would even be intelligible over the phone if I kept at it like this. I nodded, and Harvey went outside. My eyes darted around the room, trying to distract myself with whatever I could. Nothing worked.

Harvey came in and said, “He’s on his way here.” I nodded, and the tears returned.
I might just cry forever
, I thought to myself. It was silly too, because I had only known about it for three days, and nobody else knew. It’s almost as if it hadn’t even existed.

But it had. It had started to grow inside me, and something happened to take it away from me. I needed some kind of distraction.

“Harvey, why were you coming over today?” I asked, willing my breathing to return to normal. “Was it to ask more questions about Natalie?”

“We don’t have to talk about that now,” he said, crossing one of his legs over the other one.

“I’d appreciate thinking about something else. So what is it?” I pestered.

“No really, we’ll talk about it another day. Just remember you promised not to tell Greg or Natalie.”

“I won’t, but Greg wouldn’t say anything if I asked him not to. You can trust him.”

Harvey gave an almost inaudible “hmph”, and I narrowed my eyes.

“What was that?” I asked

“Nothing, I’ve just been paranoid, and I don’t want Natalie finding out. I’m probably way off base here, anyway.”

“But what about that ‘hmph’ noise you made after I said you could trust Greg. Has he ever spilled any secrets I don’t know about?” I asked, wishing he’d tell me already instead of being so mysterious about it.

“No, I’ve never told him any secrets,” was all he said.

“Harvey, look at me. I’m having a miscarriage, and you’re distressing me further. Can you please stop with the mind games and tell me what you came to my house for?” I was losing my cool and considering throwing him out. My hormones and emotions were all over the place, and I wanted to give into them and scream bloody murder.

“I don’t want to tell you because it will make you upset,” he said. He must have noticed that I was at the point of unleashing my wrath because he immediately amended, “But I suppose there’s no other way out now.” He drew in a deep breath and sat forward. “I have my suspicions that Natalie and Greg are having an affair,” he said, letting it hang in the air. I froze. That I was not expecting. I thought he was just going to accuse Natalie. But Greg? With Natalie? I laughed. Loudly. Harvey simply watched me laughing like a madwoman until I tried to compose myself.

“You’re nuts,” I said, wiping tears from my eyes.

“I have my reasons.”

“Yes, I’m sure you do. Listen, it’s been a good distraction, really, but I think you’ve gone off the deep end here. What you’re saying is so ridiculous. Look, here comes the nurse. Why don’t you just go home? Greg should be here soon. Thanks for bringing me.” He must have known I would not buy into his disturbing fantasies because he walked out without another word.

It wasn’t a nurse, but it was a radiology tech named Susan. She was middle-aged, and she did my ultrasound with the kind of smile that said she knew she would be delivering some bad news. It was the doctor who came in at that moment, a Dr. Hearst, that told me. I had miscarried, and he was very sorry. He said it happens often in early pregnancy, and I shouldn’t blame myself because there was nothing I could have done to prevent it. Greg walked in at that last thing the doctor said, and that’s when I started crying again.

It was all sinking in, the finality of it, and I let Greg do all the talking to the doctor as I slipped into a dark mental abyss. He stroked my hair, and I wasn’t even sure if I was crying anymore. We left the hospital with a couple of prescriptions and assurances I should be feeling better tomorrow. I hadn’t noticed the cramping until that moment.

The drive back with Greg was painful. I wanted to talk to him and tell him everything about how I found out I was pregnant and tried to tell him, but I couldn’t get any words out. I stayed quiet, and he seemed to understand I needed to be silent right now. When we got home, he went into the bedroom, changed the sheets and put me in bed. When I woke up again, it was dark outside. I saw the pills the doctor prescribed next to my bed, took them, and considered going back to sleep. Finally, I walked out to the living room where Greg was watching a football game. When he saw me, he turned it off and patted a spot on the sofa next to him. I sat by him and grabbed his hand.

After three days, I told my husband I had been pregnant. Then explained to him about trying to tell him and the miscarriage. I left out Harvey taking me to the hospital, even though he knew. I didn’t believe what Harvey had told me, but I didn’t want to think about it right now.

“Babe, would you have been happy with a baby?” I asked.

“Of course,” he said. “I’m just sorry I’ve been so bogged down by work that you couldn’t even tell me what was going on. I’m really sorry, Audrey, and I’m going to make it up to you. Next week in St. Thomas I will be all yours, and whenever you want to start trying for a baby again, I’m all in.”

“Thanks,” I said, putting my head on his shoulder.

“But since I had to take off today, and we’ll be gone next week, I have to go into the office tomorrow. You’re feeling better right?”

“Oh. Yes, I guess I’m somewhat OK now.”

“And remember I’ll be gone Tuesday and Wednesday nights.”

“Yes, your business trip to Chicago,” I said, disappointed. I wanted to spend time with him after what I’d been through, but it seemed that I would have to wait until St. Thomas.

“I’ll be right back. Want to watch something?” he said on his way to the bathroom. He left his phone behind, and I did something I’d never done before. I reached for it, put in his four number password, and searched his messages. There were some of his friends’ texts- Jon, Marco, Gordon. Then I saw Natalie’s name. I touched it and there were a string of texts, all work-related. I let out a breath I didn’t even realize I was holding in and put the phone back as it was.

“Let’s catch up on The Walking Dead,” I called out. Nothing like a little gore to distract you from life’s problems. At least I wasn’t being chased by zombies and forced to survive in a post-apocalyptic world.

I
woke
up to a beautiful Saturday morning. I cried, remembering how happy I had been yesterday morning. Then I reminded myself— Greg wants to have a baby and not wait the full five years. This one wasn’t meant to be. Now we can plan for the next one, and everything will turn out as it should be. I didn’t know how much I wanted a baby until I lost one.

The thought sent me crying all over again, but I decided to ignore the tears. They’d come, but I wouldn’t try to stop them that day. The cramps were gone, I felt physically great, and I had the urge to exercise, something I hadn’t done since returning to work. I would start slow by power walking around the neighborhood.

I changed into my workout clothes and took a brisk walk around the lake behind the house. Several moms were out with their kids and their strollers, pushing them as they tried to do some semblance of a jog. I tried to ignore them. When I reached the back of Harvey and Natalie’s house, I paused. The lawn mower roared in the back. I hesitated, reaching the gate, going back to the path by the lake, and then turning back again to the gate. At that moment the lawnmower stopped, and I knocked. Harvey opened.

“Hi,” I said.

“Hey, how are you?” he asked, and I could tell he was genuinely worried about me.

“OK, now. Well, getting there, I guess. Is Natalie home?”

“No, at work. Greg?”

“At work,” I said. He made that same “hmph” noise from the hospital and walked into his backyard, pushing his mower into the shed.

“Harvey, I don’t get it. Why would you suspect them of cheating? And together? I’m not proud of this, but I went through Greg’s phone last night, and there’s nothing at all incriminating in there. The texts between them are all about work stuff.” I put my hands on my hips, waiting to hear more gibberish from him.

“I’ve also gone through Natalie’s phone, and her Facebook, and her pockets— and nothing. But I’ve got this feeling, Audrey,” he said, running his hands through his hair. He was wearing basketball shorts and no shirt. He’s an attractive guy and Natalie knew that, so why would he worry?

“A feeling? All of this because of a feeling? There has to be something else.”

“I’ll tell you. A few months ago I was going to the gym a lot. I made a friend— this girl named Ava. So Ava and I started going to the gym at the same time and having lunch afterward sometimes. I kept it from Nat at the beginning because I didn’t want her to worry about something that was only a friendship. But then she found out by snooping on my phone. I swear nothing ever happened between us. It wouldn’t have anyway, since I’m pretty sure she’s a lesbian. I told Natalie this, but she didn’t believe me. After that I noticed Nat herself started going to the gym, working out, and she dyed her hair, remember? She started working late. More and more often.”

“She didn’t tell me any of this.”

“Maybe she was embarrassed. Who knows? Anyways, the sex was off the table between us for a while because she was upset I hid this friendship with Ava. Understandably. I know I should have told her about the friendship, and I get it. I apologized many times, and I was sure she had forgiven me. We even had sex again, but suddenly it stopped. She hasn’t let me touch her in over two months, always saying something about being tired from work. I try to talk to her, but she insists she’s tired and that I have to give her some space for now because she’s stressed.”

“Well, I can see how two months is a long time, but that doesn’t mean she’s cheating on you. She has a very stressful job, and I know when I’m anxious about something, the last thing I want is to have sex.”

“I get it, but it still made me suspicious. So like I told you, I searched her stuff, but nothing. Natalie is a smart woman. If she were to have an affair, she’d know how to cover it up, much better than I ever could. She’s smarter than me. So I have these suspicions, right? Nothing concrete, until about a week ago. Do you remember the barbecue at Jeanette and Marco’s house?”

“Yes, it was the six of us.” Jeanette and Marco also live along the lake and us three couples hang out and go to dinner together often. We had all planned for St. Thomas, actually, but Jeanette couldn’t take the time from work, and now it was the four of us going. One big happy family— if only Harvey could shake this silly idea from his head.

“So Marco and I are at the grill, you and Jeanette are by the bar figuring out the margarita situation, and I see your husband and my wife talking by the pool. Nothing wrong with them talking right? Except that moment when it all clicks. I see it in Greg’s eyes. He wants her. I’m a guy. I know when a guy wants a woman, and he had it. She was being her normal friendly self until he spilled his beer on his shirt. Natalie patted his shirt, just like she would to me. Would you pat my shirt if I spilled something on it?” He was almost demanding me to answer the question.

“I’m sure you’re blowing this out of proportion. Maybe Greg was drunk, and maybe he was admiring Natalie. She’s a gorgeous woman. Maybe they’ve become good friends, and she patted a shirt and that was it,” I said. He wasn’t giving me anything remotely incriminating.

“I’m not done. So I had my suspicions and watched them all night. I just had the feeling, like I said. Nothing else happened, but the other night there was the whole working late thing again. And you said Greg was working late too. Fast forward to the dinner. Again, I was looking for clues now that they were together in front of me. They both went to the bathroom at the same time, if you remember. That’s when you asked me what was up. So yes, I had my suspicions even then, but I wasn’t 100 percent, so I didn’t tell you. The last thing I wanted to do was throw you into the same disaster I was going through. Anyway, that night,” he paused and cleared his throat, “that night I tried to forget about it all, to pretend I hadn’t noticed a thing. I tried to get close to her when we got in bed. As I pulled her towards me, before she complained about being tired, I smelled men’s cologne. It was as if she had showered in it. I don’t wear cologne.” He stopped his story there, as if what he’d said was unmitigated proof.

“So you think they were, what? Like making out in the bathroom? They were gone like two minutes,” I tried to reason.

“I’m just telling you, she smelled of it.”

“Did she shower before dinner?”

“No, I met her at the restaurant,” he said.

“It could have been from before, anyone else’s cologne,” I almost whined. Why was he so insistent on ruining my marriage along with his?

“The last thing I wanted to do was upset you. I’m trying to get answers, and I thought I’d warn you, just in case. But for me, it’s all pretty much cut and dried here. I need proof, though, before I shove it in her face.” His words were angry, and I had the impression he was beyond hoping he was wrong. But I wasn’t.

“Well, let me know if you find something. But I don’t think it’s Greg. They wouldn’t do that to us,” I said.

“Natalie is definitely doing it to me,” he stated, his eyes all intense and shit. Shit, he better be wrong.

“I’m going now,” I said and walked back out to the lake. I tried to keep doing my power walk thing, but my brain wasn’t having it. My body slowed to a stroll, and I kept replaying all the words Harvey had said. It sounded so bizarre, but was it possible? Greg with Natalie. That was the first time I tried picturing them together in the flesh, him kissing her the way he kisses me all over, touching her breasts. The image was frightening and making me rather nauseous. Perhaps I was venturing out too soon.

That reminded me— I should have thanked Harvey for taking me to the hospital yesterday. I don’t think he saved my life, but it sure felt like it. I’m sure it was never his intention to unsettle me, and I’ve been treating him unfairly.
Next time I see him I’ll try to be nicer
, I thought to myself.

That evening, refreshed from a long nap, I seemed almost like a new person. I was ready to move forward and trust in my husband. In a couple of months we would try for a baby. I’d pretend Harvey never mentioned a thing (I was sure he was being paranoid and grabbing at any little thing) and plan what I should take to St. Thomas.

Oh my gosh, the trip! How were the four of us going to go on this vacation together if Harvey was insisting upon being so goddamn suspicious? He might ruin the whole thing. I hadn’t even spoken to Natalie since the dinner— not that I’d tell her any of this. If their marriage fell apart, it wasn’t going to be because of me. She would tell me about it in due time. Though come to think of it, she hadn’t called me either, and a whole day had passed since the miscarriage. Surely, Harvey told her. It concerned me that my best friend, who is usually so attentive to things like this, hadn’t checked up on me. She must have plenty on her mind with work and, obviously, her crumbling marriage.

I did laundry, which involved washing the bloodstained sheets. When I got weepy, it was much easier just to throw those in the trash. I went online to order another set of sheets in a nice color to match my pale blue curtains in the bedroom. By the time Greg came home, it was eight o’clock.

“Hi, babe,” I greeted him.

“How are you doing?” he asked, kissing the top of my head as I sat in bed with the laptop.

“Not bad. Much better than I thought I would. Only some slight bleeding,” I said. Nothing like what I’d bled into the bed sheets yesterday. Thank goodness for that mattress protector. That also went in the trash.

“Good. What about dinner?” he asked.

“I was thinking of ordering in something? Chinese?” I suggested.

“That chicken we ate last time— order that,” he said as he undressed. I Googled the number to the restaurant and ordered the chicken and a few other things.

“Should be here in 40,” I said, popping my head into the steamy bathroom. He loved the water as hot as could be.

“Do you want to jump in here with me?” he asked.

“I already showered, babe.”

“You can still come in and have fun with me,” he said. We normally had a healthy sex life. Due to his long hours, it had been quite a few days, if not a week, since we’d last had sex, but the doctor warned us to wait two weeks now. I remember because I was disappointed when I thought about how we’d be in St. Thomas during this two week period.

“Don’t you remember? No fun for two weeks,” I said.

“Well you can still give me a blowjob or something,” he said, and not in a joking way. I don’t think I’d ever been more stunned. It wasn’t so much that it might be a vulgar or insensitive thing to say to your wife that had miscarried a day ago. That was bad enough. Unfortunately for him, I long ago told him that I’d never go down on him due to a bad prior experience. No way, no how. It would not happen, and he should never bring it up again. He had agreed and even promised that it would never be an issue or be brought up.

We’d been together for many years, living with this promise of his, and he chose now to tell me to give him a blowjob? It was so unlike him, so unlike the way he ever spoke to me that I froze. I didn’t know how to respond. I wasn’t even sure if I should say something, afraid that I might blurt out something like-
Who’s been giving you blowjobs lately? Natalie?

“It was a joke, Audrey,” he said when I remained silent.

“Funny,” was the only noncommittal thing I could muster as I left the steam filled room.

My brain was about to explode. It’s possible no one else would understand this, but this was a promise he made me years ago that he now broke. Now when I was broken inside. It was a callous move, but more than that, it was out of character, and that’s what scared me. Did he mean to talk like that in there? Or was it an unconscious slip, something he would tell his skanky lover? I couldn’t handle it right now. I had to get out.

I put on the same dirty workout clothes I had worn earlier because they were the first things I saw, slipped on my sneakers, and left the house. It was dark out and I’d never run at night, but now I ran. I knew I shouldn’t exert myself. It was against the doctor’s instructions. But the doctor didn’t tell me what I should do when I suspected my husband was cheating on me. The run kicked my ass much quicker than I thought, and then I turned and walked home.

I hadn’t decided on what I should do or say to Greg next. All I wanted now was the truth, but I couldn’t just come out and ask him— not if it was something he’d painstakingly hidden for months. He might think he could grovel his way out of a one-time fling born of a random night of desire. But a months-long affair with my best friend? That was something he would deny, deny, deny. I had no proof, but I needed it one way or the other.

I managed to avoid speaking to Greg that night since I complained of not feeling well. He apologized for his earlier comment, looking me in the eye, but my intuition was all out of whack, and I tried not to make any more eye contact. The next day Greg had a golf thing with coworkers. The second he left the house I was on a mission. Ransacking every drawer he came in contact with, I searched for any possible proof of his betrayal. His underwear drawer contained only his underwear. His suit pockets empty except for lint. Even his laptop computer contained a G-rated search history. Either he was being coached, or he really wasn’t cheating on me.

Greg wouldn’t know how to hide an affair this well. He barely knew how to hide my birthday presents from me. I’d always find a receipt or the actual gift ahead of time. Or a bank statement. His credit cards! I dashed to the computer and logged onto our bank account information, searching line by line for any suspicious transactions. He used his own card many times for business dinners that were later refunded by the company, so I couldn’t very well question all of those restaurant charges. The country club, cell phone, market, gas station— everything looked commonplace. Not even a porn site on his computer or charged to the card. Is it possible I had the only guy in America that never watched porn? Was he deleting his history?

By this time, the lack of proof was making it look even more like someone was coaching him on how to be sneaky. If ever I knew a sneaky person, it was Natalie. Tenth-grade dance after she flunked a test— Natalie told her parents I would tutor her that night. Instead she went to the dance to meet up with her boyfriend Kenny, whom her parents disapproved of. She called me and asked me to conference call her parents and tell them it was fine for her to be over at my house that late and she should just sleep over. I agreed to do it after rehearsing with Nat a few times. That was just the first instance that popped into my head, but I guarantee there were at least a hundred more stories like that.