chapter
8
As a journalist, I’d seen my share of heartbreaking stories. But nothing had torn at me like the story I’d just filed. I don’t know if it was because I was in an emotional place, but when they ripped Lupe Garcia from that hospital waiting room, I cried.
Her wail would stay with me. The cold, heartless ICE agents, who dragged her away as she begged to stay and wait for her daughter coming out of surgery, would haunt me forever. The doctors had pleaded. Even I pleaded, but they would not be moved. It was the evilest thing I’d ever witnessed. Apparently, Ms. Garcia had already been deported once, nine years ago, so the ICE agents showed no sympathy.
Her child had been killed, another injured, and they wouldn’t even let the poor woman grieve. Normally, I kept my opinion out of my news stories, but when I went live on the six o’clock news, I didn’t bother with objectivity. I let my disdain be shown.
So when I was leaving the hospital and my live shot, and saw my boss’s name on my cell phone, I knew she was about to chew me out.
“Hey, Margie,” I said, bracing myself for my verbal chastising.
“Savannah!” she sang. “That was frigging awesome! I know all the other stations are scrambling.”
Her enthusiasm over our exclusivity apparently took precedence over any anger about me interjecting my opinion.
“Good. Glad you’re pleased,” I replied.
“Oh, I’m more than pleased,” she said. “Hate to ask but can you come back and go live for the ten?”
I had known that request was coming, so I was already prepared. “Sure, I have to go take care of some things. I’ll get an update, see if I can get a statement from INS, and be ready to go at ten.”
“Awesome. That’s why you’re my superstar,” she said. “I’ll check in with you later.”
Her excitement made me feel good. I took my job seriously and loved working for Margie. Besides, over the past few hours I hadn’t thought about Clark or my situation. So obviously work was good for me.
But as I navigated down I-10 back toward the Markham, I knew going back to the hotel would give me time to rekindle my pity party. So I made the decision to swing by Starbucks and try and make some calls and dig up some more information, to get a different spin on my story tonight. The only issue was this rush-hour traffic.
I inhaled, decided not to let rush hour get me worked up, then turned up the radio to relax while I took my time navigating through the traffic.
I smiled when the Temptations began singing about sunshine on a cloudy day. The song immediately took me back . . .
“I’ve got sunshine on a cloudy day.” Rob’s voice resonated throughout the karaoke club. The crowd was eating it up. “When it’s cold outside, I’ve got the month of May.”
“Don’t quit your day job,” my husband yelled from our table in the back of the room.
“Leave my baby alone,” Dawn said. She cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted, “Go on, baby. Sing for mama.”
Our table erupted in laughter as Rob belted out the entire three verses of the Temptations’ song. It was good to get out after months of locking myself in the house. I’d taken a medical leave of absence from work and restricted myself to the house. I’d come out of my grief, but every time I had fun, I felt guilty, so it was rare for me to indulge. Though, tonight, I’d finally taken Clark up on his offer and headed out for a night on the town with Rob and Dawn, his wife of sixteen years. The four of us had been inseparable before my accident. I knew Rob had been Clark’s rock through my whole ordeal. And I genuinely loved him, not just for that but because he was the kind of friend that every wife wanted her husband to have. By default, Dawn and I had become really good friends as well.
A chorus of catcalls for “More!” and pats on the back surrounded Rob as he made his way back over to us. His dimpled smile and hazel eyes lit up the table.
“So, do you think Atlantic Records is gonna sign me?” he said as he slid into his seat.
“No, you’re going to have us signing. You see, we’re going to need sign language since we’re all deaf after that number,” Clark said, patting his ear like something was stuck in it.
“Ignore him, baby,” Dawn said, leaning over to kiss her husband. “He’s just mad because he doesn’t have chops like you.”
“I know, honey. I’m used to the jealousy by now,” Rob said, brushing imaginary lint off his shoulder. “I just brush the haters off.”
We all laughed as someone else went to the mic.
“Come on, Clark. Your turn. You’ve got next, right?” Rob said.
Clark leaned back in his seat, picked up his glass, and took a sip of the brown liquor. “I wish I would.”
“Yeah, I would like to see that,” I said. No way was my husband about to get up in front of a room and make a fool of himself.
Clark endured some more teasing before we all turned our attention to the petite woman belting out Whitney Houston’s “I Will Always Love You.”
“Excuse me,” Clark said, flagging down a waitress, “can we get another round for me and the ladies and a seltzer for my boy here?” He pointed at Rob. “Make sure you put a little lemon drop or some Fruity Pebbles or something in his drink.”
“Whatever,” Rob said, unfazed by the usual roasting he got because he didn’t drink, not even socially. “You can knock me all you want, but when your liver is all torn up, don’t ask me to change your diaper.”
We all laughed as Dawn grabbed my arm.
“Okay, come on, our turn,” Dawn told me as the Whitney singer wrapped up.
“Our turn for what?” I asked.
“We’re going to do En Vogue ‘Don’t Go’ or The Supremes ‘Stop! in the Name of Love,’ ” Dawn said.
I snatched my arm away. “You can do whatever you want. I’m not getting up there.” I leaned back like Clark had done just moments ago.
“Come on, Savannah,” Dawn pleaded.
“Do it. Do it. Do it,” Clark and Rob said in unison as they pounded on the table.
“You have a lot of nerve,” I told my husband.
He flashed a wicked grin at me.
“Come on, girl. Let’s show these men how it is done,” Dawn said.
“You know what? You’re right,” I said, standing up and following my friend to the stage.
We performed “Stop! in the Name of Love” and, like Rob, had the crowd going wild.
By night’s end, I was tipsy and tired. As we bid our friends farewell, I couldn’t wait to get home with my husband.
We had actually been home an hour when my phone rang. I had just dozed off, but I picked it up, hit the talk button, and immediately heard Dawn screaming.
“Savannah, where’s Clark?”
I yawned. “He’s lying next to me, asleep. Why?”
“I was trying to call him,” she cried.
I sat up in the bed once I realized the panic in her voice. “You know he turns his phone off. I need you to calm down and tell me what’s going on.”
“It’s . . . It’s Rob. H-he went . . . I left my credit card at the k-karaoke bar . . . and the bar . . . back . . . He went back . . . he w-went back to get it.” She was sobbing so hard her sentence was barely coherent. “And on the way back . . . the police . . . they said . . . they said . . .”
“Okay, sweetie. Calm down. Where are you?”
“We’re at Sugar Land Methodist,” she cried.
My heart tightened. “The hospital? Is Rob all right?” I leaned over and shook Clark.
“I-I don’t know.”
“All right.” I jumped up. “We’re on our way.”
“Please hurry,” she said.
Clark was staring at me as I hung up the phone. “What’s going on? Who was that?” he asked, his voice groggy like he’d been in a deep slumber already.
“It’s Dawn,” I said. “There’s been an accident.” I took a deep breath before I pushed out my next words. “It’s Rob.”
“What?” he said, all traces of sleep gone. “Is he all right?”
“I don’t know anything. I’m assuming he is since he’s at the hospital. Dawn just . . .” I couldn’t finish my sentence as Clark jumped up out of the bed. I grabbed a T-shirt and leggings out of a drawer and quickly put them on. Within minutes, we were in the car.
Neither of us said a word as we sped down Highway 6 from our Pearland home.
“Babe, slow down,” I finally said after the second time someone honked at us for cutting them off. I had never seen my husband so panicked.
I was grateful when we finally arrived to the hospital, because I had been sure Clark was going to kill us on the way here. When we arrived at the waiting room, Dawn was in tears. As soon as we walked in, she raced over and threw her arms around Clark’s neck.
“Oh, my God. It’s not good, it’s not good,” she cried.
“It’s okay,” he said, squeezing her, before pulling back and looking her in the eyes. “Tell me what happened.”
She fought back her sobs as she said, “It’s just not fair . . . He doesn’t drink but . . . a drunk driver hit him.”
I was frozen.
“But . . . he’s going to be okay, right?” Clark said.
“I don’t know. The ER doctor said . . .” She stopped talking as a doctor appeared in the waiting room doorway.
The way he stood at the edge of the doorway, like he didn’t want to approach us, sent my heart in a tailspin. He moved closer to Dawn, who was hanging on to Clark like he was her lifeline.
“Mrs. Simmons?” the doctor said.
Dawn nodded.
The doctor shifted as if, even though he’d done this countless times, it was one of the most dreaded things he had to do. “I’m sorry to tell you this . . .”
“Noooo . . .” Dawn wailed as her knees gave out. I raced to keep her from falling to the floor, because Clark was in shock as well.
“You’re sorry for what?” Clark said, each word punctuated with pain. “That he’s having a hard time? That he’s injured? What are you sorry about?”
The doctor exhaled loudly. “Mr. Simmons didn’t make it.”
Dawn’s wails mixed with my husband’s and filled the entire waiting room.
We’d had to stay with Dawn for the next forty-eight hours. She’d spent most of that time sedated. We were there as she told the kids. And we’d been by her side nearly every day since that happened. Only somewhere along the line, my husband’s comfort had found its way into her bed. And for that, I would never forgive either one of them.
The Lord heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.
Ugh. I don’t know why that verse popped into my head. There was no healing from this wound. But as I approached the Highway 6 exit—the exit to Dawn’s house—I knew I couldn’t even start to heal until I faced the snake that bit me. And that thought made me veer right and off the freeway.
+ + +
The look on Dawn’s face told me I was the last person she’d ever expected to see.
“Oh, my God, Savannah,” she said, tears springing to her eyes. “I was hoping I could talk to you.”
I glared at her, trying to figure out if I should snatch her by her eighteen-inch Malaysian Yaki, or just hear her out. I decided on the latter.
“Yeah, we need to talk,” I said.
She stepped aside and motioned for me to step inside. “Please come in.”
“Nah, I won’t be long,” I announced.
I’d never seen Dawn so nervous. But I’m sure she wondered if I’d snap, because my tone was so calm. She pulled the belt on her robe tighter. It was seven o’clock in the evening. Why was she already in her robe?
“I never meant—” she began.
“How long have you been screwing my husband?” I said, cutting her off.
“It was just the one time,” she said, stepping out onto the porch and closing her front door. I guess she didn’t want her children to hear what a whore she was. “Savannah, I’m so sorry. You have every right to be angry.”
I rolled my eyes and suppressed my curse words so I didn’t give her the satisfaction of losing it.
“What Clark and I did was a onetime occurrence,” she continued. “We’re both so sick about it. We didn’t mean for it to happen.”
My bravado gave way to my pain. “Your kids call me auntie” was all I could say. “I thought we were friends.”
“I know,” she replied, the trickling tears now flowing full stream. “I don’t expect you to understand. I don’t even understand. I don’t even like Clark like that. I mean, I have never even looked at him that way.”
“So, you make it a habit to sleep with guys you don’t like like that?” I snapped.
“No, I mean . . . I love Clark . . . but it’s not sexual.”
I cocked my head at her.
She seemed to be getting flustered. “I mean, what I’m trying to say is it was a mistake, a horrible, horrible mistake. I just missed Rob so much and Clark . . . he just . . . everything about him reminded me of Rob.”
“Well, you can have him,” I said, tired of hearing this sob story. “So he can replace Rob and be a daddy to your kids. He’ll get the kids he wants, and you’ll get your replacement husband.”
“The only child he wants is the one you guys were going to adopt.”
A pain shot through my heart. I wanted to summon my Third Ward roots and slap her for mentioning the child that we’d dreamed of.
“There’s a child out there that needs you.”
“No, a child needs a committed couple. Clark isn’t committed to me.”
“Yes, he is. He loves you so much.”
“I would hate to see how he’d treat me if he didn’t.”
She bit down on her lip, wiped away the tears from her cheeks. “All I’m saying is please forgive him. I don’t expect you to ever forgive me.”
“Good,” I said. “I’m glad we got that out of the way.”
She grimaced, but I really didn’t care. The fact that she was really trying to convince me to stay in a marriage she’d destroyed disgusted me.
“Just don’t walk away from Clark,” she said.
Her saying my husband’s name infuriated me. “You know what? This was a mistake. I don’t know what I thought I would accomplish by coming here. You and Clark can go to hell.” I turned to walk away.
“The kids and I are moving. Away,” she said just as I stepped off the porch.
That made me stop again. My first thought as I turned back to face her was Good riddance. But I thought about her children and the relationship I’d developed with all of them. Another ache shot through my body. I didn’t say a word, though, as she continued talking.
“It’s been so hard here without Rob.” She ran her hands up and down her thighs like she was nervous. “And it’s difficult raising the kids alone. So I’m going back to Alabama, to be near my mom.”
“How does Trinity feel about all of that?” I said, knowing her oldest loved her school. She was a cheerleader and senior class vice president. I could only imagine how she would take the news.
“I haven’t told her yet. She’s going to be devastated, but she’ll survive.”
This transgression not only ruined my life. It was ruining the lives of those innocent children. “So are you running from my husband?” I couldn’t help but ask.
“This has nothing to do with Clark. It’s the void. The hole in my heart I feel about losing Rob. Everything here reminds me of him.” She lowered her head again. “Clark reminded me of him. That’s all it was.” She swallowed, managed to look me in the eyes again. “I’m hoping that the move will give the children and me a fresh start.”
She wasn’t going to get to me. Even though she was using her children to try.
“Well, have a nice life,” I said. I turned again to leave, and this time she reached out to stop me. My eyes immediately went down to her hand on my arm, which she quickly moved away.
“I’m just telling you that we’re leaving, so you don’t have to worry about me. It would never happen again, regardless of whether I stayed or not. But I’ll be gone, so you won’t have to be reminded of our horrible indiscretion. Give Clark another chance. Just forgive him. Begin the healing process.”
“I don’t take advice from whores,” I said.
That seemed like it stung, but again, I didn’t care. I didn’t care about the pain written all over her face. It would never match the pain that was written all over my heart.
“I will spend the rest of my life regretting this. I hope one day you can find it in your heart to forgive us,” she said. “My children—and I—are going to miss you.”
A dejected aura hung over her. She looked like she wanted to hug me, but I guess she knew better, because she simply turned and walked back into the house. I pushed away any feelings about her children’s departure as I made my way to my car. As I climbed in the driver’s seat, I pushed down the bile building in my throat.