Taking Chances (8 page)

“I need to make sure you get there safely. Besides, I get no peace from my mom who wants me to visit, so I’ll stay with her a few days, and I’ll be close by if you need me.” Thoughts of how Greg wouldn’t be with me at a time like this because he ruined our marriage nearly set off the crying again. Even if we were still on good terms, he probably would have been too busy with work to accompany me (had we not been on vacation).

A few hours later, I was on an airplane back to mainland USA. Harvey had taken care of everything at the ticket counter. I saw him arguing a good amount, and I should have gotten involved, but I was grateful to have him with me to help out right then. I was trying to fight away the migraine that finally came, on top of the fact that my father was lying in a hospital bed with a high chance of a recurring heart attack. That’s what my mom had said— It might not be over yet, and he’d have to make drastic lifestyle changes. I knew that would be very difficult for my beer and red-meat loving father.

Thankfully, the headache pill made me sleepy (plus it was already the next day, and I’d been awake throughout the night), and I could snooze for a few hours. When we landed, Harvey suggested that he take my suitcase to his mom’s, and I could pick it up there. He dropped me off at the hospital after renting a car.

“Thank you so much for this,” I said as I opened the door to get out.

“Just let me know if you need anything. I’m here for you, whatever you need,” he said with a smile.

“I will,” I said and reached over to give him a hug. Off I went, into the big building I’d always hated. The doctors had treated me for pneumonia when I was a kid in that hospital, and I spent days in the ICU, scaring my parents out of their minds. But the worst was on my 15th birthday when my grandfather passed away from a massive stroke. It was surreal as friends and family came over right away to be with us in our fresh grief right there in that very hospital.

I found my way to the cardiac unit and asked the nurse at the front for directions to Elton Whitman’s room, which she pointed me to. I entered quietly, but inside was my mom and her sister, chatting away at high volume as they always did. My dad was awake and sitting up, but he looked frail somehow. I’d seen him just a few days ago on Skype looking healthy as can be. The women jumped up to greet me, and my dad sat patiently with a sad smile. It broke my heart to see such a great big man this way. I gave him a soft hug, unsure of what I could or could not touch. There were wires and monitors all over the place.

“How do you feel, Dad?” I asked.

“Sugar, I’m not doing too well it seems. I guess time will tell, huh?”

“Dad, you have to take care of yourself now,” I said, looking at my mother, who I knew would be the one to do all the care-taking, especially for his diet. Oh yes, she’d nag him to death. She was nodding.

“I know, Sugar. But let’s hear about that vacation I had to cut short. Where’s Greg?” he asked. Stupidly, I’d forgotten to come up with an excuse for Greg’s absence or to decide when I’d tell my parents about my impending divorce.

My mom’s sister, Lucy, looked at me funny. She always seemed to know things— like when she’d guessed the birthday of her best friend’s grandchild, or when she’d won our town’s carnival lottery by guessing the four numbers. I considered lying and saying that Greg had to rush back home for business, but then I asked myself— why? Yes, we had bigger things to think about, like my dad’s condition, but then my problem would seem trivial, right? But I didn’t want to cause a commotion at that moment.

“He went home,” I said. “We’re sort of in a big fight, and he went home before Daddy had the heart attack so he doesn’t even know. Whatever. It’s not important right now.” I hoped I’d watered it down enough for now, but my mom came over to give me a hug.

“We’ll talk about it later then,” she said. Greg and I were well-known for our huge fights back while we were dating, but we always made up. My mom probably thought this was a recurrence. My Tia Lucy, however, was still giving me that strange expression. My dad said nothing. He was the strong, silent type, but when he had something to say, people listened. That’s how he’d successfully built up the business my grandfather started in Harper Fields 50 years ago. From a small store selling a few tools and soil, it grew to a large hardware store with another location just outside of town.

Sitting with my mom and aunt by my dad, I listened to the town news for an hour until my stomach grumbled. I realized I had eaten nothing since that restaurant/club last night, and I was starving.

“I’m hungry,” my aunt said standing up. “Why don’t we get something to eat?”

“I’m not hungry right now, but go ahead,” my mom said. I stood up with my aunt.

“Mom, can I bring you a sandwich for later or something? Maybe they have yogurt?” I asked. My mom had yogurt every morning.

“No, no, I’ll eat later,” she said, shooing us away. I gave my dad a kiss on the cheek and promised to be back soon.

We walked to the cafeteria, my aunt discussing how she’d have to go home soon since her boys couldn’t be trusted alone with their father too long. My cousins were 9-year-old identical twin boys, and from the stories my mom told me whenever she sees them, they’re little devils.

“How are they doing?” I asked.

“They’re driving me crazy. I try to put them in every sport imaginable to get the energy out of them, but I’m beginning to think that it does the opposite,” she said with a sigh.

We grabbed an actually decent-looking meal and sat at a cafeteria table, surrounded by other worried family members and nurses.

“Do you want to tell me what happened with Greg?” she asked out of nowhere as I was trying to eat my bland mashed potatoes. Looks were deceiving with hospital food, apparently.

“We had a fight, Tia. That’s all,” I said, hoping she wouldn’t pry. But a Cuban family is a Cuban family.

“You and Greg have a fight so big that he hops on an airplane to go home, and now I see you here with a face full of exhaustion and tons of eye makeup. Why so much makeup if your husband is gone?” she asked, then set to devouring her plate.

I gave up. She’d guess it soon enough anyway, I was sure of it— down to the last detail. So I told her all of it. Well, almost all of it. I left out the part where I’d been sharing a room with a tall, handsome man that wasn’t my husband for the past three nights.

“Oh, my dear, I’m so sorry. And so angry at that Greg,” she said, but now that I think of it, my aunt had been rather cool to him our entire courtship, which was not like her.

“But,” she continued, “That doesn’t explain your smudged eye makeup.” Luckily, or unluckily if you consider who it was, my phone rang and Greg’s name displayed on the screen. My aunt and I both looked at it.

“Do not run from your problems,” she said. “Not all things get smaller the farther you get.” I rolled my eyes at her and picked up.

“Yes, Greg?” I said, annoyed.

“Hey, how are you? My mom told me about your dad. Are you going to visit him?” he asked. His voice was like a bucket of ice water over my head after not having heard it for a few days.

“I’m at the hospital with him now. How did you find out?” I questioned.

“My mom told me. It’s Harper’s Field, Audrey,” he said. It was the running joke of the town, a place so small that everyone knew everything about everyone’s business. So if someone asked how you knew something, you said, “It’s Harper’s Field.” It wasn’t so amusing now. I gave him a quick update on my dad.

“So, thank you for calling. Goodbye,” I said, and hung up, not giving him a chance to reply.

My aunt sipped from her straw while giving me another funny look.

“Let’s go back,” I said, getting up before she went on and on again about eye makeup. She’d crack me eventually, I knew, as she’d done when I was 12 and had my first kiss. As she’d also done when I had snuck out to go to a concert in the next town after my parents had forbidden me to go. I’m pretty sure she hasn’t told them to this date. My aunt was ten years younger than my mom so she understood my teenage angst better than my mom did. And boy was I full of angst back in those days.

I convinced my mother to eat something a couple of hours later, and by the time it was dark out, my father insisted that she go home to sleep.

“Why are you going to sleep next to me uncomfortable on the fold-out thing? Just sleep nice and cozy at home, and then tomorrow morning you can come back. Besides, I should be going home tomorrow, and I need you to bring me new clothes. Go,” he said in his pretend-stern voice.

“Yes, dear,” she relented, getting up to give him a kiss. On our way out, I put my arm around my mom and gave her shoulders a squeeze.

“Oh Audrey, I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose that man,” she said with a sigh.

“You won’t, Mom,” I said, hoping that my words rang true. I thought about what she’d said. She sounded as if her world would just stop turning if Dad were gone, and it sounded like a real possibility. I mean, if the worst were to happen, I was sure she’d survive it, but the joy would be gone from my mother— at least for a long time. I, however, had already lived a rather satisfying few days without Greg. While I missed what I thought we’d had together, I was more angry and disappointed than feeling like my life was over. I had moments where I hurt, but I had moments of hope, too. Those were so lovely I was wondering now if Greg and I splitting up might not have been a blessing in disguise.

Could it be that he was not the one for me? Shouldn’t I have felt my world might end, even if I did pick up the pieces afterward? I didn’t know if there was an absolute answer to that. My brain was foggy from the jet lag and lack of sleep, so I decided not to focus on any more heavy stuff for the night. The important thing is that my dad was stable and would hopefully recover.

Since I didn’t have my suitcase with my things, I had to borrow my mom’s pajamas, and I took a much-needed shower. I went into my old room and threw myself on my twin size bed. How long was it since I slept there? Greg and I had been living together since we graduated college, so at least 8 years. It felt funny, sleeping somewhere so familiar yet so different from what I was now used to. I checked my phone before I went to sleep, having ignored it all day.

I had a few text messages, and I skimmed through each. Greg texted me after our phone call to thank me for talking to him and telling me he hoped my dad got better soon. Bleh. Then there was Jeanette, but she only mentioned my dad and nothing about Greg or Natalie. I wonder how much she knew. Something at least, if she’d learned my dad was in the hospital.

Then I had a text from Harvey an hour ago asking me what time he could bring my suitcase tomorrow. I sent him a quick reply and put my phone on silent. If anyone had news on my dad, they’d call my mom, and I did not need to speak to anyone else the rest of that night. Exhaustion won me over, and I didn’t even have time to reminisce on the day’s events.

T
he next morning
, a knock on my bedroom door was followed by my mother entering and grabbing the dirty clothes I’d thrown in a pile on the corner.

“Mom, leave that. I’ll take care of it later,” I said, not even raising my head.

“I’m washing now, and I’ll throw this in, too. There’s café and huevos with bacon. Let’s get ready to go in the next half hour, please,” she said making another sweep of the room. My mother— always cleaning up after me and cooking for me.
Things never changed.

I dragged myself around the room still groggy from sleep. Looking in drawers for something I could wear, all I found was where my mom hid the Christmas decorations. I went to her closet and discovered the least outlandish shirt she owned. It was a pink T-shirt she used to clean around the house. I put that on with my jeans and set to eating my breakfast. My mother hovered around me, offering me orange juice and more eggs. I declined on both counts, badgering her to go get ready herself.

The drive back to the hospital was a strange mix of comfort at being in my hometown and sadness at feeling I didn’t belong there anymore. I passed the local farmer’s market stands that used to be open every weekday, now only open on weekend mornings, a banner said. The ice skating rink was now a firehouse, and the firehouse was an office building for an environmental group that had taken up shop in town. But my elementary school and its playground were still there and so was the old shopping center, probably with the same old woman there who served ice cream at the Dairy Queen. It was all mostly the same, yet the changes showed that life here went on without me.

My dad was quiet today, even more so than yesterday, and my mom told me she thought this whole ordeal had been a shock to him. I tried to be bright and cheery1 for him, but what I wanted was to sit and be quiet too. The newspaper I brought along allowed for some discussion between us while we waited for the doctor. My father’s cousin came, and he was there for a good long while, telling jokes and making my dad laugh until he left to go to work around noon. Finally, the doctor came in and said that he expected my dad to go home that evening, at which point my mother breathed a sigh of relief. I went outside to call Harvey, which I had promised to do last night in my text.

“Hey darlin’,” he said, voice smooth as butter. I had tried not to think of him the past couple of days, but now there were emotions exploding inside of me, and I paced back and forth in the parking lot.

“Hi,” I said, glad he wasn’t able to see the creeping pink on my face.

“How’s your dad?” he inquired.

“He’s getting out tonight,” I said.

“Nice. I knew he’d pull through alright.”

“Yes, we’re very relieved, but he’s bummed out from the whole thing.”

“I would be too,” he said.

“Yeah…” I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to see him, which was weird, right? When had I ever wanted to see Harvey before? He’d always been Natalie’s husband who I saw sometimes when I saw Natalie. Now he was this different person, totally separate from my past life in which he was just one of the six in our little neighborhood crew.

“So I have your suitcase, and I guess you need it. Want me to drop it off at your house or something?” he asked. I wondered if he still saw me the same as before.

“I, um... I would say we should be home by eight o’clock if you want to drop it off after that. Or I can come pick it up after we take my dad home.”

“How about dinner? I’m at the market now, and I can grab a few things to make us something tasty. I’ve learned quite a bit from the chefs at the restaurant.”
Was this like a date?
I got all tingly.

“Um… I guess that would be nice. A little break from my parents for a meal isn’t a bad idea, actually. I don’t think they’d mind… and then I can take my suitcase,” I added clumsily. What was wrong with me? I cringed and silently swore.

“I mean, you can leave it again, but that would defeat the purpose.” I noticed the smirk in his voice.

“Ha ha,” I said. “I’ll see you after 8ish.” I pressed END on the phone.
Darlin’?
Chills.

Driving my dad home from the hospital was a relief to us all. It was comforting to see him in regular clothes and looking like his normal self. My mom chatted the entire way home about the healthy recipes her friends had sent her links to on Facebook. She couldn’t wait to cook for us. I let my parents know I had dinner plans with a friend (I didn’t mention who), and my mom said she’d save me some fish for my lunch tomorrow.

Tomorrow
. How long was I planning on staying here? My vacation was technically over the next day at work, but I could call in sick because of my dad, not that it mattered much at my job. Anyone could call in sick for anything at that place, no questions asked. But, for real… how long was I going to stay at my parents’? The thought of stepping into Greg and my house seemed unfathomable, but where I would live?

T
here was
something about getting ready to go to Harvey’s that evening for dinner. I cried in the shower, and it was another ugly cry. I sat on the floor of the tub for a while and concluded that Greg had wasted enough of my life.
I would rise up from this disastrous affair
, I thought, as the tears mixed with the water running down my face. I wasn’t even sure if I was crying anymore except that my head was pounding from the intensity of my emotions. Life would go on. It always did. I would too.

I’d even start that night. I put on my sexiest underwear with a “just-in-case” attitude after shaving all over. I dressed in one of the comfortable flowy dresses I had taken to wear out to a casual dinner in St. Thomas, straightened my hair, and put on light makeup.

“Honey, you look so beautiful,” my mother said as she stirred the vegetables she was cooking on the stove. I went to her, and she kissed my cheek. “Have a lovely time.”

“Thanks, Mom,” I said and went to give my dad a kiss goodnight. He was sitting in front of the TV watching the news.

“This is the kind of stuff that gives people heart attacks,” he said as he aimed at the TV with the remote. I saw that the Breaking News banner discussed a terror plot thwarted in Europe. Such things were sadly becoming so commonplace it was scary.

“Enjoy your vegetables, Dad,” I said, bending down to give him a hug. He made a grimace, and I laughed.

I got noticeably more excited the closer I got to Harvey’s mom’s house in my mother’s car. The beauty of the evening was that anything could happen. I was a free woman now. Whether I was divorced or not was simply legal talk because in my heart I knew I was no longer tied to Greg. He had decided that months ago when he hopped into bed with my best friend. I hoped Natalie’s guilt would eat her up the rest of her life. Yes, I was still bitter. Can you blame me?

My heart beat with a surprising quickness when I knocked on the front door. I waited, but not all too calmly. I rearranged my hair twice, fiddled with my purse, and almost ran away altogether when Harvey opened the door. There was a big smile on my face, but instead of Harvey, it was his mother. I don’t know why, but I hadn’t even considered that it wouldn’t only be Harvey and I that evening. Suddenly my shaved legs and sexy perfume seemed way out of bounds.

“Hi, Mrs. Garrett,” I said, trying not to sound surprised as I adjusted my expectations for the evening. I wasn’t sure what would happen, but my wild imagination had envisioned something slightly PG-13. Rated G it would have to be.

“Audrey, it’s been so long. How nice to see you,” she said, reaching out to give me a hug. I now remembered how nice Harvey’s mom had always been and my disappointment dissipated.

Harvey was in the kitchen grilling some steaks on a Foreman Grill, and I went in for an awkward hug since his hands were full of cooking utensils. Seeing him again was like Christmas morning. I put down my purse and offered to help, trying not to be socially inept.

“No, no, you come over here and talk with me as I set the table. Harvey can handle this,” Mrs. Garrett said as she looped her arm in mine. I looked over at Harvey with wide eyes and he shrugged as if to say, “That’s my momma”.

“So, Harvey is tight-lipped, but there’s much to be said about the two of you coming to town together without Greg and Natalie,” Mrs. Garrett said getting right to the point. I was struck dumb and couldn’t say a word. I didn’t know if I should say anything at all for Harvey’s sake.

“Mom,” he shouted from the kitchen. “I told you not to bother Audrey with questions. Audrey, you don’t need to answer her.”

“Mrs. Garrett, really, Harvey should be the one to tell you what is going on when he’s comfortable.”

“Don’t you
Mrs. Garrett
me, little Audrey running around with those pink ribbons in your hair. Yes, I remember how you chased Harvey here around the yard on his birthday with that lizard. My, how he screamed!”

“Mom!” he yelled. He poked his head in the dining room, “I was six,” he said in a lower tone, “and had not yet grown into the big boy I am now. Please stop embarrassing me. Also, Audrey you can tell her whatever you like, I don’t mind. But don’t let her bully you if you don’t want to talk about it.” I tried not to burst out laughing around the time Harvey said he was now a big boy, but tried to contain myself to a slight giggle.

“Mrs. Garrett—” I began.

“Julie,” she corrected me.

“Julie. I suppose I might tell you if you can keep it a secret for now,” I said, thinking of my parents finding out the whole truth of Greg’s affair. I would tell them in due time.

“Hah!” Harvey yelled from the kitchen again.

“Oh shut up, you!” Mrs. Garrett yelled back. “I can keep a secret, unlike what my misinformed son thinks. If he only knew all the things I’m taking with me to my grave. But tell me everything from the beginning. My son shares nothing with me, on top of the fact that he left me,” she said this last part loud enough for him to hear her. I imagined Harvey rolling his eyes.

“It’s not a pretty story, and I’d hate to throw a negative light on Natalie,” I said.

“I already guessed it wouldn’t be pretty, and if there’s anything negative about Natalie, it’s all her doing whether you tell me about it or not. Am I right?”

“Yes, what’s done is done, I suppose,” I said with a sigh, and gave her roughly the same story I had my Tia Lucy. Again, I did not mention Harvey and our closeness while dancing.

“Well, I’ll be,” she said. “I did not see that coming, let me tell you. Miss Natalie sure will get an earful from me if she graces my doorway ever again.”

“Don’t think that will happen,” Harvey said as he brought out a large dish with steaks and vegetables. He went into the kitchen and came back with a tray of baked potatoes.

We sat down to a downright delectable dinner and a lovely table dressed by Mrs. Garrett as she patiently listened to my entire story earlier in the evening. Boy, could Harvey cook. If he were my husband, I’d trade cooking duty for any other chore in an instant. The thought stopped me as I put another delicious bite in my mouth. I’d have to be careful not to think such things again. I shouldn’t get attached to Harvey more than I already was. Sure, I’d considered getting down and dirty with him, but that’s because he got me hotter than any other man ever had, and why should I deny myself now? But that was it.
Sex is just sex, right? People do that, don’t they?

After the meal, Mrs. Garrett apologized for dashing out early but she had to get to her ladies’ night and would Harvey mind washing the dishes. Suddenly, I was glad I’d shaved my legs again.

“Ladies’ night?” I asked Harvey, eyebrow raised. Somehow I couldn’t picture Harvey’s 60-year-old mother going out for drinks at a bar.

“It’s this group of women that get together Thursday nights to talk about books and drink wine. Some of them knit, but my mom says she’s not old enough for that,” he said with a grin. It was obvious he loved his mom, and that was endearing.

“Here, I’ll help you,” I said, and we carried the dirty dishes into the kitchen.

“I’m not gonna complain,” he said, and we started an assembly line where I pre-rinsed them, and he soaped them up, and I fully rinsed them again before putting them on the drying rack. We were standing side by side, and our arms were touching. I’d never had such an exciting dish washing experience.

Every one of my senses were on edge, and I was all but throwing myself onto his soapy arms. He’d rolled up the sleeves of his checkered long sleeve shirt, and his forearms were handling the sponge with such determination that I could see the muscles flexing. God, they were manly arms. I was sure he could hold me up against the wall with one arm wrapped around my waist. Was I being silly, getting myself all worked up? He was probably just standing there, trying to make sure his dishes were being cleaned properly. I looked over at him, and he looked at me too. I might have seen something in his eyes, but I was too embarrassed to hold his gaze so I looked down at my dress.

“Oh, no! Look what I’ve done,” I said backing away from the sink. I held my arms away from me. My dress was wet down the front. This happened from my not paying attention and going into nonsensical fantasies.

“Here,” Harvey said, giving me a kitchen towel. I tried to soak it up, but it was useless.

“I think you’re mostly done here. I should go,” I said, trying to leave as fast as possible before I made a fool of myself and kissed him or something. How I wanted my lips to touch his. I took a deep breath and went for my purse.

“Thanks for dinner,” I said, and walked toward the front door. Then I remembered my suitcase. I turned around and bumped right into Harvey, who had followed me. My hands splayed across his chest as our bodies crashed, and I gave a small gasp.

“I’m... I’m sorry,” I stuttered, reaching for any words that would make sense as the heat of his body mingled with mine. I didn’t move away because it felt so right, and then I noticed he didn’t move either. I’d been looking at the level of his chest, but then his fingers found their way under my chin. He lifted my face up to his, and for a glorious moment I was looking into his amorous eyes before he closed them.