ROUNDING THE CORNER as I walk into the nurses’ lounge area, I hear the unmistakable cackle of my colleague Odessa, a beautiful Guyanese physician’s assistant who calls everyone by their last name and uses humor to hide the fact she simply has no filter. She’s one of those people whom you either love or hate. I happen to love her even though she has on more than one occasion told me I look like a Teletubbie in blue scrubs. She says I should wear darker colors to hide the junk in my trunk. I remind her that my husband adores the junk in my trunk.
“Parker, what are you doing here today? she asks with a deep raspy voice then continues, “I thought you had the weekend off.”
“I switched my weekends because Alex is racing. He won’t be back until Sunday night.”
She rolls her eyes, and her face grimaces with a hard scowl.
“When is he going to grow up? Flying down the road on two wheels at one hundred fifty miles an hour is dangerous. It’s not like he’s a young guy. He needs to act his age.”
I laugh. “First of all, one fifty is slow. He usually goes one sixty-five and secondly, he’s only forty-four. He’s not eighty!”
“Knowing him, he’ll want to race wheelchairs when he’s in a nursing home.”
I carefully pull my leftovers from the microwave and drop the scalding container on the countertop. “Yeah, you’re probably right. I don’t think he’ll ever grow up.” I feed myself a scoop of macaroni.
“How’s that friend of his? The young one. Tyson? He’s hot! If I weren’t married, I’d take a spin on his bike.”
My eyes slam shut from the combination of hot food burning my tongue and the thought of anyone having sex with Tyler. He’s a walking STD who screws any woman, anytime, anywhere.
“His name is Tyler and he’s disgusting.”
“That’s harsh! You really don’t like him, do you?”
“Would you like a person who is a bad influence on your husband? Would you like Greg to tell you how he had to disinfect the backseat of the truck because his buddy screwed some random chick? I don’t think so!”
“How’s your sex life?” She raises a suspicious brow. “Maybe he’s living vicariously through Tyson.”
“Ew, forget Tyler! You’re disgusting! My sex life…our sex life is just fine. I can’t help that I have endometriosis and sex freaking hurts. Believe me, I take care of him in other ways. Just sayin’,” I toss in her direction as I leave the room when my pager buzzes.
“I’m just saying you gotta keep your man happy or else he’ll stray.”
I pop my head back into the room and stick my tongue out.
“Sounds like you’re speaking from personal experience.”
A plastic fork followed by an empty water bottle flies in my direction as I duck out of the way.
“Code Blue to ICU. Code Blue to ICU.”
One would think working the twelve-hour night shift at the hospital would be a quiet one, but no, it isn’t. We get all walks of life coming in at ungodly hours of the night. Druggies faking back aches for painkillers, mothers demanding to be seen by a doctor for their child who has been complaining for days of an ear ache, the old woman carrying an oxygen tank around who can’t breathe but refuses to give up cigarettes and the barely legal kids who are nearly comatose after drinking themselves into oblivion.
Occasionally we get a few more serious and critical cases. A car accident. Drunk drivers. Heart attacks. Child birth. Broken arms. Battered wife.
Being married to Alex, who runs a successful electrical company, allows me the freedom to work only part-time. Four twelve-hour shifts a month is just enough to keep me busy outside of our home and keeps my nursing skills up to par.
I sleep for most of the morning when I get home from work. After checking my phone countless times in hopes that Alex called, I send him a text and pull on my bathing suit and cover up. I swim a few laps in the pool then relax in the chaise lounge and call my mom.
“Karrie! Hi doll! Long time no talk.” She laughs, panting into the phone. It’s her usual joke since we talk every day, several times a day. I usually call to ask for the ingredients to one of her recipes.
“Hi Mom!” I reply. “Why are you out of breath?” As soon as the words escape, I cringe. “Oh God! Call me back, Ma.”
Her laughter fills my ears. “Stop that! I’m on the elliptical not having sex with your father.”
I chuckle quietly as I palm my forehead. With a quick shake of my head, I contemplate the idea that I may have been switched at birth.
“How was work last night?”
“Same as usual. Odessa’s back from her trip.”
“Oh nice! I’ll have to have her and Greg over for dinner soon. They’re such a nice couple.”
I nod and feel my chest tighten at her unspoken words.
“Do you and Alex want to come over for dinner? Dad is throwing on steaks and I wanted to show you some of the new designs that just came out. I want to play with the colors and schemes a bit more.”
I applaud my mother’s ability to say Alex’s name without contempt or derision. She’s never been his biggest fan. Even on my wedding day as she buttoned my beautiful gown, she told me I didn’t have to marry him if I wasn’t a hundred percent sure. She nodded to her sleek Audi and told me the keys were in the ignition. I assured her that I loved Alex and was happy to become his wife even though he was so many years older.
“Thanks for the offer, but I have to work tonight and Alex is racing this weekend. I can’t wait to see what you’ve come up with. Why don’t you email me what you’ve got?”
“No, that’s okay. You know how I feel about email.”
I roll my eyes at her conspiracy theories.
“I’ll put it on a flash drive.”
“Ma, I have like thirty,” I chuckle mockingly, “and Alex has some in his office.”
I hear the disappointment she fails to suppress while we chat about the few babies she’s recently delivered now that she’s semi-retired. The hope of delivering her own grandchild has yet to come to fruition.
She sighs quietly. “Alright, sweetheart. Well, if you get lonely in that big house of yours, come on over. Just make sure you call or text first.”
I smile as warmth floods my heart. After thirty years of marriage, my parents are still as in love as the day they exchanged their vows. My grandmother didn’t need to offer an out to my mom; she had no doubt whatsoever that my mother and father belonged together.
“Love you.”
“Love you more.” My mom blows a kiss into the phone.
After lounging for several hours, soaking up the sun’s rays, I wander over to my vegetable garden, clip some basil and pluck tomatoes to use in my sauce later. Hot and sweaty, I head inside, pour a large glass of lemonade and peruse yesterday’s mail. Feeling bored, I text a few of my friends to say hello even though most of them are busy chasing after their children or bringing them to school. Sometimes I miss the single life.
I reach for my phone and swipe immediately when I see Alex’s name flash across the screen along with a picture of the two of us. My heart flutters with anticipation of hearing his voice.
I very much miss the man I fell in love with.
“Hey, you sexy beast! How’s my husband?” I grin and wait for his reply, calling me his little seductress. It was the nickname he’d given me shortly after we started dating because he claims I seduced him twice without realizing it. I did no such thing. How can you seduce someone who was rushed to the Emergency Department by an ambulance with a bad case of road rash and a badly bruised ego after being sideswiped by an old lady? I can’t remember who screamed more— Alex or the old woman. He bellowed that her license should be taken away and she retorted, saying he shouldn’t have been driving like a bat out of hell.
“Hello?” I sing-song playfully into the phone once again when I hear the muffled sounds of people’s raised voices. “Alex? Hello?” For nearly a minute I listen, trying to decipher the strained conversation until the line goes dead.
I tap his name and call back, but it rings incessantly until his voicemail picks up.
“Hey, babe. I think you pocket-dialed me. Call me back. Love you.”
My shift at work begins and ends in the same mundane way. Nothing exciting ever happens around here. When I arrive home early Monday morning, Alex is sound asleep in our bed. I know he’s going to be getting up soon for work even though he’s probably not gotten much rest over the weekend. Between the hours racing at the track and the eight-hour drive, exhausted is an understatement.
I shower quickly and crawl into bed next to him. His body, kept fit and firm from Crossfit, is spread out, inviting my fingers to touch it. He stirs at my gentle touch.
“Good morning!” I whisper, leaning in and nestling into his neck. I inhale his masculine scent mingled with a hint of cologne. “I missed you.” My hand travels lower, trailing lightly along his abdomen.
“Hey, babe. Good morning yourself.” He cocks one eye open and then the other. “How was your weekend?” His arms reach upward and cross behind his head as if he’s enjoying the feel of my touch.
“Same as always. Odessa’s back.”
“That’s nice.”
“How was the race?”
“Awesome! I went pretty fast, but Ty went 6.60 in the quarter mile.”
I plaster on a fake smile at the mention of Tyler’s name as I try to give my husband a hand job. I should’ve waited until he was done rambling on and on about the race and how they’re going back down in two weeks because his morning erection wanes in my hand.
“Two weeks?” I shriek, squeezing him hard.
His hand covers mine and pries my curled fingers, wordlessly asking I release him. “Whoa, easy. What’s the big deal?”
I jump to my knees, my eyes now huge circles of shock. “You’re going racing in two weeks?”
“Yeah, why?”
Throwing my hands up into the air, I yell, “Oh I don’t know. Maybe it’s just our anniversary or something. No big deal!”
I spring from the bed, stomp into the bathroom and slam the door shut, locking it quickly. I lean over the vanity and stare at myself in the mirror. The woman staring back at me is not happy.
“Open the door, Karrie.”
“No!”
“Karrie,” he enunciates my name slowly, “I said open the door.”
Like a sullen child, I drag my feet and unlock the door. He’s standing there naked with his arms outstretched on the door frame. He tips his head to the side and gives me a sympathetic look. “I didn’t realize the date.”
I exhale a deep sigh of relief and step into his arms. “Thank you.”
He kisses the top of my head. “I’ll make it up to you when I get back.”
“What?” I gasp loudly as my palms flatten against his chest and I shove him away. “You’re still going? It’s our anniversary for God’s sake!”
“Babe, I have to go. Ty’s already qualified. People are coming from all over the country for this race. The grand prize is twenty-five thousand.”
I stare in disbelief at my husband. Brushing past him, I yank open a drawer and slip on a pair of cotton underwear then trudge over to the closet, pulling on a green sundress sans bra and a pair of sandals. I head back over to the drawer, find a pair of matching blue scrubs and shove them along with black Crocs into my backpack.
“Where are you going? It’s seven-thirty in the morning?”
I think quickly and spit out a lie. “I’m meeting my parents for breakfast.”
“It’s Monday morning. Your parents are at the country club for their early morning tee time,” he deadpans as he moves about the room getting dressed for work, pulling on a pair of work pants.
“Well,” I stammer as my voice cracks, “I have some errands to run and then I’m meeting them.”
Alex strides across the room and wraps his arms around me, pulling me close to his chest. He smooths my long hair back away from my face and searches my eyes.
“What’s the matter with you?” he asks as a grin appears. “Are you getting your period? You’ve been acting like a real bitch lately.”
I sniffle and wipe my nose as my lips spread into a small smile at his use of the teasing yet vulgar sentiment. I exhale a deep breath. “No. I just feel like you’re never home. I hate that you travel all the time for motorcycle racing. It’s a hobby not a job!”
“Come with me then.”
I smirk. “You know I don’t like going to the track anymore. All I do is stand around all day and watch you go down the track for less than ten seconds. That’s not exactly fun.”
“Ten seconds?” he quips. “I go way faster than 10-0.”
I slap his bare chest. “You know what I mean.”
“You should come and meet some of the other girls.”
“If by ‘girls’ you mean ‘Bike Bitches’, no thanks. I’m all set.”
He laughs.
“They’re not so bad.”
“Whatever.” I narrow my eyes at his attempted humor.
“I’ll make it up to you. We’ll go away for a weekend. Pick an island—any island and we’ll go.”
“Really? It’s been so long since we’ve had a real vacation.”
“I know it. I think the last real one was in the Bahamas when we rented a scooter and drove all around the island.” We had just started dating when he surprised me with the trip.
I nod in remembrance.
“And if I remember correctly, it was you who suggested I get a bike for us to ride on Sunday afternoons.”
I nod again, mentally chastising myself for opening that can of worms.
“I’ve got to get going, but I won’t be home too late tonight. I’ve got to help Ty unload the bikes and change the oil.”
“I have a painting class tonight with Pam.”
“What’s she been up to?”
I detect the change of tone in his voice even though he tries to hide it.
“I don’t know.” I shrug. “I haven’t seen her in a while.”
Pam Cooke has been my friend for the longest time and she, like my mother, wasn’t convinced I should’ve married Alex. Not only was she concerned about our age difference, but she didn’t like the way he wanted to control my life from what I could wear right down to the friends I should have. I chalked it up to being young and naïve, but I’ve since reacquainted with most of my friends and wear what I want.
Alex pulls on his work shirt and laces up his boots before answering his ringing phone.
“Good morning,” he whispers into the phone before glancing back quickly and smiling tightly. Continuing his quiet conversation, he trots down the stairs and out of the house. I can’t imagine why Tyler is calling so early; he’ll see him shortly at work.
I hate Tyler Strong.
***
AFTER MEETING MY parents for a late breakfast, I drive over to the local clinic where I volunteer a few times a month. It’s a sad place in which most people who receive free health care and free medications come. Most of the doctors and nurses are pretty good, but we do get the occasional self-righteous doctor who thinks he’s better than everyone else even if he graduated at the bottom of the class. We usually send the patients with really bad hygiene to him.
Turning the knob on the door with one hand as I reach for the medical chart, I walk into the small room, laughing sarcastically at Owen’s off-colored attempt at humor. Owen is the resident jerk doctor for the next six months.
I freeze when I notice a small woman sitting on the table with Tyler standing by her side.
“Tyler!” My eyes widen, revealing my surprise and shock. “What are you doing here?” I look at the woman who has red, puffy eyes. A small hiccup escapes from her throat.
“Karrie,” he starts nervously, “um…she,” he stammers, “she needs to see a doctor.”
I clear my throat and pull my gaze away from his bluish-green eyes. I’ve never really been in this close proximity to him before except for at my wedding reception. I don’t understand the emotion running through my veins.
“I see.” I glance away as my cheeks flush pink. “So why don’t you start by telling me what’s going on.” I smile kindly at the woman who now has her face buried in her hands.
“She thinks she’s pregnant.”
My eyes flash in his direction as a scowl spreads across my face. Of course, Tyler Strong got someone pregnant. How irresponsible!
“I think she can answer for herself.”
He huffs loudly and shakes his head. I lock eyes with him as I wheel the machine over to check her vitals.
“Your chart has your name as Penelope. Do you go by Penny?”
“Yeah, only my granddad and my sister Rachel call me Penelope. I hate it.”
“I understand. People always misspell my name and I hate it.”
She lifts her arm, allowing me to slide the cuff around her thin bicep. I smile and apologize for my cold hands even though it’s ninety degrees out.
“You know what they say, ‘Cold hands, warm heart.’ ”
“You’re fine. Thank you.” A sweet southern drawl tinges her words. She offers a crooked grin.
“I love your accent! Where are you from?” I ask with a smile after removing the cuff.
“I’m from Kentucky originally, but I moved to Virginia last year.”
“Oh wow! My husband races motorcycles down there.”
“Can we get a doctor to see her now? She needs a doctor,” Tyler interjects. His body is rigid as if he wants to be anywhere but here.
I stare at him, noticing that he swallows hard and shakes his head briefly as he shifts his weight from side to side
“Please,” he adds.
I am a nurse. Be professional. Set aside personal feelings. I repeat the words continuously in my head to calm down.
“Let’s have you give me a urine sample. We can do the pregnancy test and then you can see a doctor.” I open the cabinet door and take out a plastic cup before looking back at Tyler with malice in my eyes. “That’s how we do things around here.”
“Thank you.” Penny hops down and stands. Her cami is tight around her thin body, her plump boobs displaying ample cleavage. Denim cut off shorts and flip flops make her look as young as a college kid. I remember Alex got so much flack for dating me. His friends liked to tease that I was still in diapers when he was in high school. I guess Tyler likes them young, too.
“The bathroom is around the corner to the right.” I hold the door open for her just as Tyler calls my name. I turn slowly to address him.
“What?”
“If she is pregnant, please don’t say anything to anyone. Especially not Alex.”
I narrow my eyes. “Don’t worry Tyler. Your little secret is safe with me.”
“What—”
I close the door behind me and wait for Penny. After confirming her pregnancy, I send Owen in to talk to the less than happy couple. From behind the sliding glass window, I sit and watch Tyler wrap his arms around her shoulders and lead her to his truck. Poor girl! If Penny is smart, she’ll leave and put as much distance between them as she possibly can.
When my shift ends at the clinic, I send Alex a text, letting him know I’m going to be stopping by his job site. Getting the contract for one hundred twenty-five homes in an assisted living complex was huge and is proving to be quite profitable. He’s been so busy, working late into the night and even some weekends. Just to ensure he’d be finished by the anticipated completion date, Alex has even hired a few new electricians.
A.P. Electric is my husband’s baby; it’s the company he built from the ground up.
I drive slowly over the broken road which has yet to be paved and spot Alex’s work truck and two other vans parked haphazardly in the dirt. I squeeze my car into a small space beneath a large tree. Carrying a large, brown paper bag inside a plastic one, I carefully step over the piles of rubble and enter the dwelling through the garage. I follow the sound of music playing.
Tyler, standing on the top rung of a ladder, is the first person I see. His arms reach high above his head as he installs electrical wires in the ceiling. My eyes follow the length of his body from his dexterous fingers down to his tanned neck before lingering on the hem of his T-shirt that is now riding up, showing the hard planes of his abs.
“Karrie!” he calls. “What are you doing here?”
My traitorous eyes snap up to his face and my voice cracks.
“What?”
“What are you doing here?” he asks as he descends the ladder. “Does Alex know you’re here?”
I drop my eyes to my painted toenails for a second before speaking. “I texted him and told him I was stopping by.” I glance around the room. “Where is he? Is he working upstairs?” My feet turn and begin to move toward the unfinished, natural wood staircase, ready to bolt away from the uneasy feeling settling in the pit of my belly.
Tyler blinks rapidly. “Um,” he mumbles as he scratches the back of his head. “He had to go look at another job.” Rushed words fly out of his mouth.
“Another job? That’s odd. I thought he said he’d be on this one job site for months.”
With an unknown look filling his eyes, Tyler shrugs and says that Alex shouldn’t be much longer. He looks around and finds an empty five-gallon bucket. Flipping it over, he brushes off the sand and white dusty residue and sets it down. “Here you go. Best seat in the house.”
I can’t help but smile as I look around the skeleton of someone’s home. Wood beams, unpainted sheetrock, scraps of wood and rolls of electrical wires fill the vast room.
“That’s okay. I’ll wait outside.”
If I weren’t speaking to Tyler Strong, I might actually appreciate the kindness, the tenderness in his voice, but I can’t. Just because he offers a seat doesn’t negate how rude and standoffish he’s been to me throughout the years.
“You sure?” He cocks his head to the side, narrows his eyes and then grins. In that moment, I see the appeal he has with women. I can see why they fall at his feet and worship…whatever it is they worship.
“I’m sure.” I set the bag on the bucket, balancing it carefully. “There are sandwiches and cold drinks in here.”
Tyler nods and utters a word of thanks.
As I set out to leave, I hear him call my name softly. I stop and turn to face him.
“Thank you for today. She’s young and scared. I don’t think she knows what she’s gotten herself into,” he mumbles quietly.
I sigh at the man staring at me and am suddenly overcome with raw emotion. I blink quickly to ward off the threatening tears. The regret etched on his face is clear; he doesn’t want this child. He isn’t ready to become a father. I’ve seen this look a thousand times on the faces of young men and women who’ve come into the clinic. Many of them opt to keep their child while others immediately ask about abortion.
“How old is she?” I ask quietly as my eyes drop to the floor.
“Who?”
After a quick shake of my head to rid myself of annoyance, I pinch my lips and look at Tyler.
“Penny...your girlfriend.”
“She’s not my girlfriend.”
“Yeah, okay.” Jackass. “How old is she anyway?”
“Uh…I’m not sure.” He shrugs nonchalantly. “Twenty-three? Twenty-four?”
I suppress the feeling of animosity because he doesn’t even have the decency to care about her age. I guess it’s not something you ask when you’re rolling around under the covers with a different girl every night of the week. “And how old are you?” I don’t know why I ask.
“Same as you.” A crooked smile tugs on his lips, creating a somewhat boyish appearance.
I nod thoughtfully as an awkward silence fills the room. I always assumed Tyler was older than me because he’s so close to Alex. Needing something to do with my hands, I run my fingers through my hair and pull at the long strands, avoiding his gaze. Finally, I release a heavy sigh, raise my chin and face him head on.
“Well, I guess you and Penny have a decision to make.”
He looks at me with a combination of confusion and sympathy as he shakes his head and scoffs.
“It’s not my decision.”
Anger builds within me at his callus words, at his irresponsibility, at his lack of accountability.
Annoyed, I clench my teeth, shake my head and toss him a filthy look before I spin around and start walking to my car.
“Karrie,” Tyler whispers, calling me once again.
I stop dead in my tracks but don’t turn around this time.
“What, Tyler?”
I can hear him coming closer as he clears his throat. “It was nice talking to you.”
It was nice talking to me? Is he insane? I hardly think talking to me about his pregnant girlfriend qualifies as a normal conversation. I don’t respond, the words evading me as I take a step further away from my husband’s friend.
“And Karrie.”
I stop.
“Thanks for lunch. That was really nice of you to do. Very thoughtful.”
I want to reply and tell him I didn’t do it for him, but I don’t.
I continue walking until I reach my car, completely baffled by the man inside. The man who has never been anything but distant and cold to me over the years. The man who chooses to wait in the garage rather than come inside if my husband hasn’t gotten home yet. The man who comes to our summer picnics and Christmas parties but always has a poor excuse of why he can’t stay very long.
A sigh escapes me just before a small chuckle emerges when a silly thought flits across my mind, wondering if he got hit in the head with a two-by-four or maybe he crossed the wrong wires and got zapped by electricity.
Whatever it was, it was strange. I open the car door and drop myself into the driver’s seat and text Alex to let him know that I’ll wait for another few minutes. The summer heat beats down on my car, driving the temperature upwards into what feels like the hundreds; not even the slight breeze coming in through the windows offers reprieve. Wiping the sweat from my brow, I blink lazily as I yawn. Once. Twice. Three times. My eyelids close for good.
I awaken a short time later and sit up quickly, disoriented and worried that I missed Alex. I scrub my face with my palms and survey the property around me, scanning the new construction until my sights land on a figure in the window on the second floor. I wipe my eyes then blink quickly, bringing my blurred vision into focus. After glancing around hoping to find Alex’s work van, I exhale a deep breath and check my phone for a text message. Nothing. No truck. No message.
Frustration riddles my body at my stupidity. I should’ve told Alex I was going to come for a visit. A movement causes my eyes sweep upward. Standing there against the window, I see Tyler with his phone to his ear. Our eyes meet. I force my eyes to break away, but they betray me so I continue to look at him as he looks intently at me. Even from this distance, I can see the narrowing of his eyes, the contempt, the hate that is directed toward me before he closes his eyes, shakes his head and steps away from the window.
Once again I confirm the simple fact, I hate Tyler Strong.
***
“MINE LOOKS LIKE shit compared to yours!” Pam laughs, looking at her painting over the rim of the wine glass. “Oh well!” She tips the glass back and chugs the rest.
“You shouldn’t have had that last glass of wine,” I tease.
She snorts. “Someone needs to represent the LPDA! And I only had two.”
I hand over my debit card and turn to Pam, my forehead wrinkling with curiosity. “The what?”
“The Ladies Professional Drinking Association.”
“Are you the president?”
“Not yet. I’m only the vice president.” She smirks as we walk through the door and out to our cars.
“I’m not ready to go home yet.” I sigh. “Alex is at Tyler’s garage working on bikes.”
With two raised brows and a single look, she says more than she would if she had uttered a thousand words.
“Don’t start!”
She tosses her hands in the air. “I didn’t say a thing!”
“You didn’t have to.” I narrow my eyes as I link our elbows and drag her to her sporty coupe. “Come on, you lush. The next round is on me.”
Using the rearview mirror, I keep an eye on Pam as she follows me to The Black Horse, the best hole in the wall bar around.
We find a small booth and each order a glass of wine from the over-friendly waitress. Perusing the bar, I notice a few people playing pool while others play darts. It’s relatively busy considering it’s a Monday night. Lots of construction workers like to stop in for a beer or two before heading home to the wives or girlfriends.
I enjoy Pam’s company as she tells me her plans to move to Florida some day when she hits the lottery. We lift our glasses and clink them together, toasting to her improbable dream.
By the night’s end, I’m slightly buzzed and eager to get home. As we step outside, Pam’s humorous antics force me to wipe away the tears of laughter running down my face. I giggle and stop… then giggle again.
“Stop! I’m going to pee myself!” I demand without an ounce of conviction.
“Well, at least you’ll finally be wet.”
“Pam! I can’t believe you said that!”
“Whatever!” She rolls her eyes and grins.
I pull my keys out of my purse and once again snake my arm around her, linking elbows with the one friend who can cheer me up like no one else can. Although we don’t see each other often, we manage to pick up right where we left off. We walk silently across the crushed stone parking lot as crickets chirp and the sound of muffled country music floats through the warm night air. We stop immediately when a woman’s high-pitched squeals and moans break the otherwise quiet, moonless night. Pam and I turn to see a man scrambling to lower his pants just enough to expose his bare ass.
Pam whistles then whispers, “Now that is a nice ass!”
Leaning forward still wedged in between the open door and the front seat, the tall man thrusts relentlessly while a pair of thin legs wrap around his waist. Pam breaks free of my hold and cups her mouth, hooting and hollering, telling him to “get a room and give it to her really good!”
I slap her hands away from her mouth. “Shut up!” I whisper through clenched teeth.
As if my eyes have a mind of their own, my gaze shifts back to the couple. I stare in their direction, completely mesmerized by this very private moment. A longing, a desire fills me and an expected throb between my legs commences.
“Right?”
I snap out of the erotic trance and turn to look at her. “What?”
“I said, ‘If you’re going to get it on, it might as well be with that fine piece of ass, right?’”
My teeth come down hard on my bottom lip to suppress the sensation building in my core.
“Alex has a great ass.”
“For an older man, maybe.”
I laugh. “No way! He’s in great shape.”
“If those two don’t finish soon I might have to get some popcorn and enjoy the show from the privacy of my car.”
“Oh, God!” I slap my forehead. “And that’s my cue! Bye, Pamela.” I stick my tongue out as I use her full name which she hates.
I open the car door and get in. I start the engine and my headlights flash in the direction of the half-naked man. Wildly searching across the dashboard of my new car, I feel around for the button to dim the lights. Instead of turning the lights off, the high beams shine brightly into the satisfied face of Penny as she peeks over her lover’s shoulder and grasps the man’s hair, running her fingers down his neck. I press the gas pedal down and race out of the parking lot as one thought consumes me. I just witnessed Tyler having sex with Penny. In his truck. In the parking lot. Doesn’t he have the common decency to get in the truck and close the door? And what’s even worse is the fact that I was turned on!
My stomach rolls and I choke back the taste of animosity. The voice inside my head reminds me…
I hate Tyler Strong.
The image of him screwing Penny circles over and over in my head as I drive across to my side of town. The part where huge homes are set on sprawling acres of land, the part where teenage kids have birthday bashes fit for a king and receive shiny luxurious German cars as gifts.
The garage door rises at the touch of a button and I pull into my bay, hoping but not expecting Alex’s motorcycle will be parked in its spot. I’m happy he has a hobby, something he’s passionate about, but it’s one that demands a lot of attention. Countless hours are spent working on bikes at Tyler’s garage where no one cares how loud the engine revs or how loud the music is.
My hope plummets at the sight of the vacant spot.
I shower quickly, text him and crawl into bed to read. Nights like this have become the norm it seems. A short while later, Alex replies with a text that says he’s got about another two hours and I shouldn’t wait up. He says things aren’t going as planned.
Feeling a combination of hurt and resentment, I text back a snide comment about how he should divorce me and marry his bike.
My husband’s name flashes across the screen and I answer his call.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He doesn’t even say hello.
I flinch at his harsh tone. “What? I was just kidding!”
“You know what race season is like.”
“Yep, I do.” My lips form an O and make a loud pop.
“You act like I’m out at a bar or screwing around.”
Tyler.
I stare at our wedding picture and sigh, wanting to tell him about what I saw Tyler doing, but I don’t. It’s none of my business.
“I miss you.” I look at my wedding band. “Is that so wrong?” I turn over and pull the cover over my body as I lie alone in our king-size bed.
“It’s almost over.”
“Ok. Wake me up when you get home.” Chastising myself internally, I shiver at the desperation in my voice.
“Gotta go.”
Before I can say the words I love you, the line disconnects.
I vaguely remember hearing the shower running at three o’clock in the morning when Alex tiptoed into the room. I think I said hello, but it was late and I hadn’t gotten much sleep.
My eyes flutter open as Alex moves about the room getting dressed for work.
“What are you doing up so early?”
“It’s not early.” He glances up from his phone. “It’s almost eight.” He pulls his work T-shirt on over his head before dipping his fingertips into the jar of gel. Rubbing his hands together, he runs his fingers through his hair, straightening it in the mirror. I smile in appreciation when he bends down to tie his boots.
“You’re very handsome.”
He offers a crooked side grin as he saunters over to me, planting a quick kiss on my forehead. “So I’ve been told.”
“You’re also arrogant.”
“Yep. I’ve been told that as well.”
“Don’t forget we have dinner with my parents this weekend.”
He freezes mid-stride just as he reaches the door.
“What now?” I ask, unable to hide the annoyance in my voice.
“Ty and I were going to test and tune the bike this weekend.”
“Okay,” I draw out the obvious.
“In Maryland.”
“Oh, c’mon! Are you serious?” I jump out of bed and put my hands on my hips angrily. “This is ridiculous.” My foot comes down with a heavy stomp as if I were a spoiled child.
His eyes drag lazily down my stiff naked body until they reach my face.
“I told you it’s almost over.”
I close my eyes and count backwards from ten, hoping the tension will seep out before I explode. Clenching my jaw, I reopen my eyes, shake my head and trudge into the bathroom, slamming the door hard and pressing the lock.
I fully expect him to knock on the door or demand I open it, but he doesn’t. He just leaves.
By the end of the day, I’m on a nonstop JetBlue flight to my parent’s condominium in Florida. I’d give anything to see his reaction when he reads my note.
“It’s tanning season. Going to Florida. Not sure when I’ll be back.”
He calls and texts relentlessly…and I ignore him. His attempts to lure my own mother to his side were in vain. She does argue that I am being childish and immature, insisting I should at least talk to the man since he is, after all, my husband. I agree to call him, but I don’t.
I walk along the beach, soaking up the sun’s rays as I look for seashells. I nap on the beach after swimming in the blue ocean. I eat a delicious gourmet meal and drink an entire bottle of expensive champagne at a fancy restaurant.
For the most part, I enjoy myself until the voice of sadness creeps in to remind me that I am, in fact, alone.
After nearly two weeks of doing nothing, I’m ready to go home so I say goodbye to the Sunshine State.