The Other Other Woman (16 page)

Say what?! I don’t remember him hanging up on me!

Yeah, he was like “Lemme call you back!” I totally felt like I was interrupting.

Well, I don’t know why he would do that. I don’t remember him hurrying off the phone with me at all. Besides I thought you said he was gay! LOL

He’s definitely really metro… and prissy! And didn’t you say you liked that?!

I know
, I said, trying to steer the subject in another direction,
I definitely need to move to DC or NY instead of Raleigh. There seems to be a shortage of metro guys here for sure!

The next morning, first thing, I texted Matt before I even left the house.

You at work?

I am. You ok, babe??

Oh yeah, fine, can you call?

“Hey sweetie, what’s up?”

“I think we may need to work on your playa skills… have a look at this from last night,” I said, texting him a picture of the conversation I had had with Brooke.

“Oh, wow. Okay, well I don’t really even remember that but maybe I do need to work on it! And hey, I’m not THAT metro am I?!”

“Honey, you wear pink shirts.”

“Well I don’t mind being a little metro, but I don’t want to be like some kind of gay icon for brokers in the Atlanta metro area!”

“Mmm, I’m not touching that one…”

“Does this mean I can’t wear purple anymore, either?”

“I like the way you look in pink and purple. But, other than color scheme, I don’t find you all that metro. It’s not one of the main words I would use to describe you, anyway. But I’m not going to tell you what those are.”

“Okay, fair enough.”

I had to laugh even more when later that day Brooke was telling me how he kept going on and on about the decor at the condo to her–the patterns, the fabrics, the artwork. “Haha, now
that
, I’ve noticed!” I said. “He sent me pics of the condo and kept talking about how the bedding matches the throw pillows!”

“Oh I know, the purple paisley bedding, right? Yeah, he told me all about it too!”

“It sounds like he’s pretty impressed with his flair for decorating,” I said. “His wife probably did it all and he’s just taking the credit!”

“Nah, I think it’s really him, that’s just how he is. I don’t think his wife goes down there very much.”

“Oh yeah, he told me he ends up letting his friends use it most of the time. Oh well, more condo for you and me!”

“For real, girl, I can’t wait!” she replied.

Chapter Six

About eight days before he was supposed to come up, I realized to my horror that I had not yet gotten my period. I wasn’t on any birth control at the time, but I normally had fairly predictable cycles. I was about a week late. I knew I wasn’t pregnant, but I was concerned that if it didn’t show up soon, it wouldn’t be over with by the time he got into town. We hadn’t seen each other in a while, and that was the last thing I wanted to be dealing with. I didn’t mention it to him right away. The very first time he came up here I had actually been worried about the very same thing and it turned out to be a non-issue. Even so, he had assured me it made zero difference to him. But that was before he put his mouth on me, and to be perfectly honest, it made a hell of a lot of difference to me.

When another day went by with nary a sign, I started freaking out ever so slightly. I texted Jules often to complain. With our medical background, we weren’t squeamish at all and had no problem getting completely and inappropriately TMI with each other. I figured voicing my concerns would maybe make it show up somehow. We jokingly referred to it as PeriodGate, but it was seriously making me mental after about three more days with nothing. I wasn’t exactly the Mayor of Crazytown yet, but I was “definitely living in the suburbs,” as Jules would say.

With each passing hour, my panic grew worse. I finally called to make an appointment with my ob/gyn when it still hadn’t shown up by Wednesday of that week. At this point, it seemed I was just skipping it altogether. I was pretty sure she was going to tell me it was stress-related, given everything that had happened with Matt over the last month.

As I was waiting in the exam room, wearing nothing but my little gown and a white sheet, I started getting calls from Nate. I just let them go to voicemail. Then he started sending frantic texts.

Call me right away. I need to talk to you ASAP.

I knew from our previous conversations that it was going to be more of the same. Him crying and/or screaming at me, begging me to go to counseling, telling me how horrible a person I was, how I had ruined all of their lives by leaving him. I was pretty sure he had a girlfriend by now anyway, based on little things my kids had said, but he wasn’t admitting it yet. Either way, it was not a conversation I was interested in having just as I was getting ready to throw my legs up into the stirrups. So I fired back a
Sorry, in a meeting
text. He continued to tell me it was an absolute emergency. I knew it didn’t involve my kids. They were at school and daycare, and they had me listed as first contact. So I had no idea what his problem could be.

He started calling again, and like an idiot, I answered it. Angrily. “What the hell is the problem? This better be good!”

“How long have you been seeing this Matt?” his voice cracked.

Awww shit.
Think fast, Mal, think fast!
“What makes you think I’m seeing anyone?” Ahh! Deflect with a question! Excellent!

“I know you are seeing him.”

The last thing I wanted was for him to run out and get copies of my texts to use against me in court, so I decided to play it safe with the friends card.

“Matt and I are friends. I am friends with a lot of people I work with. What is it that you think you know, Nate?”

“I saw some text messages in your email account…”

“Wait, what? You are going through my email?!”

Before I found out that there were better ways to do this, I used to email pics or texts from Matt that I found particularly cute or funny over to my Zoopie email account, so they could be deleted off my phone. But I sent them out of my regular Gmail address. Normally I would have deleted all sent items right away, but with Nate out of the house I really didn’t think I needed to worry about that anymore. I was wrong. He was still very much trying to catch me in something. I frantically searched my phone and found the copies of texts he was referring to. One was me joking about the shower, which was very flirty but admitted nothing. The other was completely benign. So he had no actual proof of anything.

“I know, I know. I went looking for trouble and what do you know, it looks like I found it. I saw your little picture of him in the gym… What the hell is going on with you two? You left me for him!?”

“We are just friends right now,” I replied flatly. Hell, that was sort of true. I felt like I hadn’t seen him in months! “We’ve been friends for a long time. We work closely together,” I continued. “And, yes, we do flirt with each other sometimes, but things are way too complicated right now on both sides. I really have no idea what will come of it, if anything.”

“Oh, so he’s married too, then?”

“Yes.”

“Great. I never pegged you for someone who would run off with a married man,” he said, in a very accusing tone.

Hey, pal, neither did I. Neither did I. “Well, it’s a good thing I haven’t run off with him yet,” I replied coldly. I could hear the doctor flipping through my file outside the door. “Nate, I absolutely have to go. Stay out of my email.” I hung up and promptly changed the password on that account.

I’d been going to Dr. Paxton since I was 18. She delivered both of my babies (via C-section) and my niece as well. She was incredibly inconveniently located since I had moved, but I just loved her because she did everything in lightning speed. She was in and out so fast you barely had time to realize you’d just been violated. She was recently divorced too, so I felt like she would be pretty sensitive to my plight. After my exam, as suspected, she asked me if I had been under an unusual amount of stress because I definitely was not pregnant.

“Yes, most definitely have been stressed out, especially a few weeks ago,” I said.

She asked me if I was okay, and I assured her I was. I explained that I had my “long distance boyfriend” coming into town and asked if there was anything OH SWEET JESUS PLEASE that she could give me to keep my period at bay. Just through Monday. That’s all I needed!

She paused for a moment and said, “There’s really nothing I can think of because once you’ve ovulated, it’s pretty much a done deal.”

My heart sank. But then her eyes lit up.

“Wait! I do know of one thing! We give women who have excessive bleeding a synthetic hormone called Norethin Ace. If you are only going to need it for five days, you can try it. I can’t guarantee anything. It might hold you off for a few days or at least make it lighter if you do get it.”

“I don’t think I have to tell you how desperate my situation is, wink wink,” I laughed. I left her office with Norethin and birth control pill prescriptions in hand, a very happy girl indeed. I immediately texted Jules the good news. She texted back.

Woman, you are insane. I’ve never seen anyone work so hard for oral sex. You whore.

We had called each other hooker, whore, and skank interchangeably for years, so I knew it was a term of endearment. Once I was in the car, I called to tell her about my conversation with Nate.

“Yikes! Do you think he bought it?”

“I don’t know. It doesn’t really matter at this point. Other than I don’t want him calling Matt up or his wife, or my boss, or something equally as stupid. So I’m not going to admit to anything right now.”

“Um, no. No I wouldn’t either. Screw that.”

“I suppose he could try to say I was guilty of adultery since we aren’t legally separated on paper yet, but that’s just because he refuses to talk about anything related to the kids or house so I can get an agreement drawn up.”

“Well, yeah, he’s been acting completely unstable for months.”

“Even if he could get me on it, it gives him nothing. If I was asking for spousal support, which obviously isn’t happening, then they would refuse to give it to me if I was found guilty of adultery. Otherwise, it has no effect on anything. I already asked my lawyer about it weeks ago.”

“Spousal support from him? Hahahaha! Very funny!” she laughed.

“I know, right? But the last thing I want is for him to get the courts involved in trying to pull text records because that wouldn’t be good for anyone.”

“Noooo, definitely not!”

“Oh God, I cannot imagine the look of shock on his face if he ever saw the way Matt and I talk to each other. He would never believe it was the same woman he was married to.”

“I know! It’s bad enough that I have to see it!”

I filled my Norethin prescription right away and took one on my way back to work. Unfortunately, Dr. Paxton had not warned me that one of the side effects of the medication is that it makes you
feel
like you are going to start your period at any given second. That’s always good for the nerves. Every few hours Jules would text me a period euphemism like,
“Has your monthly bill arrived? Are you riding the cotton pony yet? Did you check in at the Red Roof Inn?”
We looked up all kinds of old wives tales on the internet just in case there was something, anything else I could do. I just had to wait and hope the medicine would work, while feeling dreadful, bloated, and crampy the entire time.

By Friday, I felt like I had to tell Matt that there was a very good possibility I would not be fresh as a daisy the next time I saw him. He totally laughed at me. “I told you before, sweetie, it really won’t bother me. You are the one that gets all freaked out about that.”

“Well, yeah, that’s because it happens to complicate or eliminate some of my favorite activities with you!”

“So, we’ll get in the tub. No biggie.”

“Still. It’s just a pain to deal with all around.”

“I know it is, but either way it’ll be fine. Don’t worry about it.”

He always knew just what to say. Then he added, “But let me know if it shows up.”

And I thought,
didn’t he just say it didn’t matter?

When I talked to him Saturday, I told him it was all clear.

“Okay, cool. I’m probably leaving around 1 p.m. tomorrow afternoon so let me know in the morning if it shows up.”

“You are still coming either way, right?”

“Yeah, of course, sweetie. I’ve already got my bag packed.”

I told Jules I was starting to have a weird feeling about this.

“Oooh, is it your period?” she teased.

“No, I’m serious. I just feel like he’s going to back out.”

“Why would he do that? It was his idea to come up tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, but he’s cancelled on me before.”

“I think he would have told you by now, no?”

“I would certainly hope so. Things have been so much better lately. He’s been really good about calling. He’s been really sweet and attentive.”

“Well, I’m sure it’ll be fine then.”

“If he does back out, that’s pretty much it.”

“What, like
IT
it?”

“Yeah, I can’t keep going through this with him. There’s no point in us being together if he doesn’t actually want to see me.”

“You have a point there.”

****

That Sunday morning, I woke up so incredibly happy. There was still no sign of my period, and I was going to get to see my boy,
finally,
after nearly seven weeks. I was walking on air. And then, with one little text, my whole world seemed to fall apart.

Mal, I’m sorry, I think I have food poisoning. I’ve been throwing up since 3 a.m.

What. The. Fuck.

I couldn’t even respond. I just burst into tears and called Jules trying to tell her through uncontrollable sobs what he had said.

“Oh my God! Dude, I am soooo sorry! I don’t even know what to say!”

Once I got control of myself I told her, “I knew it! I knew he was going to do this! I could feel it! And it’s no coincidence that he picked vomiting! He knows I have a huge fear of vomiting! It’s not like I’m going to make him suck it up and come up here with that! ARRRGH, I can’t believe he is pulling this shit! I am so stupid!”