When I awoke, my head was pounding. I couldn't even bring my arms up to wipe the sweat beads from my own brow. Five minutes went by while I contemplated rolling over and falling back to sleep. What time was it? I blindly reached for the clock, but instead my knuckles collided with the magnum of wine that I guess I had downed hours prior. I closed my eyes, and right on cue the bottle acquainted itself with my hardwood floor before splitting into hundreds of tiny pieces.
I couldn't even focus on the why or how I ended up so drunk, let alone worry about cleaning up the mess that very second. Making my way to the bathroom, I called out, "Luke?!"
I should have known the house was empty based on the absence of a reaction when I knocked over the wine bottle. I could hear the trees rustling outside and the soft chimes of the wind bells. It was sensory overload as I began to wash my face. I checked my phone when I got back to the living room and saw three missed texts and a phone call. Deciding to check them later, I went to gather the broom and pan to start sweeping the shards off the floor when a cold sweat took hold of me. The dream of Bartholomew came rushing back to me as I stared at the glass pieces on the floor. I hadn't had such a vivid nightmare like that in years. I’ve never even dreamed about a man other than Luke since before we were married. What was my subconscious trying to tell me? What did it mean? Is the stress starting to affect me on a deeper level? Or is it something else?
BEEP… BEEP
Another text message. I just wasn’t ready to interact with life outside of my current bubble at the moment but when I finally glanced at the kitchen clock it read 1:45pm. Trying to distract myself from dwelling on how much of a waste of life I’d been, I decided to start some of the kids’ laundry and take out some options for dinner. Luke should have been home by now. Maybe if I checked my phone there would be some explanation as to why he’s still not back from his interview that should’ve been over hours ago. I walked out on the back porch greeted by the beating sun and blistering heat, there was not a single cloud in sight save for how cloudy my mind was at the time.
I walked back into the house to prepare myself for the kids to arrive and right on schedule, the garage door began to lift as I heard the school bus gang marching down the street, parents and babysitters in tow. Jane came galloping into the kitchen, exuberant on the surface but I can see the hollow void in her eyes. My little girl is so strong, she carries a burden placed on her by me and Luke to school but has the strength to bury it once she gets there. Not allowing her home life to affect the refuge she’s created, it almost puts me to shame regarding how I’ve been handling my own personal issues. We chat about her day, and I feel increasingly terrible because she knows that I’m just going through the motions with her asking the same cliché questions about school, boys, homework, grades, etc. I give her leave to scurry down to the basement where she can play her WiiBox or whatever its called. Another text message comes through and it echoes like another layer of stress thrown on top of the already immense pile. I decide to check them. Two messages from Luke telling me he’ll be home later than expected. No surprise there but I am curious as to why he didn’t mention where he would be. After that, there's a text from a number I don’t recognize.
G its Claire… I’m in the area and would luv 2 c u. It’s been 2 long, maybe catch up for dinner or drinks 2nite?
Oh my God, Claire DuVeaux. It’s been what, twelve years since I’ve seen her? Claire was one of my partners in crime from college. She was like my sister and knows more about me and my life than Luke does, even with the twelve year gap. She was one of the girls with me on the cruise, and knowing Claire, she doesn’t usually reach out much these days when she travels. She landed an amazing consulting job right out of school and has been damn near impossible to lock down ever since. We still kept in touch, reaching out for birthdays and seeing each other at the occasional wedding, but this is a complete surprise. Timeout, did she say drinks? I almost gag at the thought, with me still reeling from the wine that I guzzled this morning. My thoughts quickly turn to concern as I remember Claire’s mother was really sick for a while. I reply back.
omg its been 2 long. I don’t think I can make 2nite but what is ur sched like this upcoming week?
It’s near four o’clock by now and Luke finally pulls up in the driveway. I put my phone on vibrate, and brace myself for what I can only assume will be an inevitable spat between two adults at their wits end with each other. He comes in the house and walks by me straight to the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water and exhaling deeply. I smell traces of bourbon, and what seems to be a faint hint of cigarettes that have been masked by mint gum. He hasn’t touched a cigarette in years so my offensive assault begins, and I demand answers immediately. However, my approach will be executed in a calm and steely manner, so he knows that I’m not fucking around.
“I’m going to ask you this one time. I don’t care if there’s another woman. I don't care if you drank and drove. Hell, I don’t even care if you were in jail. But so help me God Luke, if you don’t tell me where the fuck you’ve been for the sake of remaining in your daughter’s life, there will be consequences.”
So much for calm.
“Where’s Jane?” he asks.
“Lucovini-“
“Sh, shh. I’ll tell you, I just don’t want her to hear.”
“She’s in the basement. Can you not hear the damn video games blaring?” I'm starting to get impatient.
“Zell, I messed up. I messed up bad.”
Luke usually responds to my verbal assaults with one of his own. It’s almost like he enjoys them. Like he thrives in the heat of verbal battle with me. However, this time is different. It’s like he is conceding defeat before he even mounts a defense. I can sense something is wrong. Is this a new tactic of his? Get me to lower my guard so that he can play the victim? And in his mind, by playing the victim he actually wins? No, I won’t fall for this trap. He’s crafty, but not-
“The interview. I had it in the bag Zell. I honestly had them basically eating out of my palm. We had salary negotiations, reference and background checks cleared. Everything was a seemingly done deal.”
“So what happened?”
“I went to Poppy’s Bar for a celebratory drink, and a cigar. I was only going to have one or two and come straight back home. I got a call from the HR department after I had just asked for the check. I forgot about the non-compete clause I signed with Murdoch News. I hadn’t even thought about it, I mean who reads the onboarding paperwork when they start with a new firm? I was never even given a copy! So now not only am I eliminated from consideration with Frontier, but I have to wait another year and four months before I can even continue in my field with another news company. I was devastated. Jane was the first person I thought about. So I reopened my tab and just kept drinking. I didn’t even think-”
SMACK
“That’s your fucking problem! You never think!” I screamed.
I don’t know why I did it. I don’t even remember thinking about doing it. I slapped him dead in the face as I fought back the tears in my eyes. I didn’t want to hear anymore. I didn’t want to look at him anymore. It was at that moment that any emotion, or love, or connection for or with him was all erased. He became nothing more to me than just a mere shell of a man. There was no substance to him any longer, no value, nothing. He fixed himself up, and slowly raised his eyes to meet mine in a glare that was almost inviting me to slap him again. My hand stung from the contact but it was a pain that I welcomed. He took a step towards me and just then, the basement door swung open and Jane came upstairs to greet her father. She made a comment about how he smelled weird before she gave him a hug and a kiss, and Luke took her hand and brought her to the garage to show her something that he had bought for her on the way home. He kept his eyes fixed on.
“We will finish this discussion later,” he said.
I was not, under any circumstances, sticking around to learn what the underlying meaning to that statement meant. It was unsettling. I needed to get away. I texted Claire back to see if she still wanted to catch up, and sure enough she had time. I took a quick shower, got dressed, and started off to meet her at Town Hub. There was no interference from Luke, which I expected. He was still drunk and I know he didn’t want me around the house anyway. Town Hub is a chic place that makes for a great atmosphere for the whole chat and dine type of outing.
It actually felt exhilarating fleeing the house like that. Like I was in a movie or something. I know Jane is fine. If there is one thing I know for a fact about my years with Luke, it's that Jane is the one thing on this earth he would die for before he let anything happen to her; but still, there was this faint voice in the back of my mind, saying words that I could not yet understand. A scratching at the edge of my subconscious. Was it a forewarning? A message of praise for being so bold? I had a feeling that I would find out later, and the feeling did not sit well in my gut.
If I had recalled correctly, I knew what Claire liked to order, so when I beat her to the restaurant, I ordered her a grey goose and water with lemon. Being girls in college she never ordered grey goose as it was above our budget as young adults but I had assumed that by now she would prefer an adult fashioned vodka alternative versus the Smirnoff and Pinnacle drinks she used to drown in. Myself? A simple margarita, no salt and no sugar would do. I almost spit my third sip out when she snuck up behind me and put her arms around my neck, finishing the embrace with a gentle kiss on my cheek. It was actually very comforting after I realized it was her. The usual social conventions took place when long lost besties reunite. We went through the whole how’s life, how are the kids, who are you dating, how’s Luke, how’s Jane, how’s work, ugh. It’s enough to make me want to vomit, but it’s a necessary convention to wipe away all of the cobwebs and dust, and to get down to the real meat.
“Wow Zell, I didn’t know things had gotten out of hand like this. You know, I’m awful at staying connected. Seriously, it’s almost like I prefer to stay out of other people’s lives because as much as I’ve been away, I would have no valuable input for situations like these and I cant look like a fool trying to give any type of advice or pretending I know what I’m talking about. Honestly, I'm even surprised you agreed to meet with me. I’m aloof, I know that. I’ve been awful, I didn’t send you anything when Jane was born. I didn’t even call you, I didn’t make the shower. I haven’t even reached out to Megan or Carrie. Don’t let me sit here and play woe is me, because from what you’ve told me, I don’t have the right to try and garner sympathy from you.”
“Claire, honestly. I had already suspected that there may have been an underlying reason that you reached out to meet. And it’s fine. I love you to death, I really don’t mind-”
“No Giselle, just listen... I really do have an ulterior motive right now. And I know you knew that as soon as you read my first text, you’re not an idiot. I just need someone I can trust right now. I honestly don’t have any friends left. You are the one I knew would be bold enough to see what the hell I wanted to meet for.”
She went on and on with her emotional shit, spilling all the reasons why she had no friends left except me. Shit, I didn’t even know if I still considered her a friend myself these days, but I listened; as if I didn’t have enough on my plate as it is. I didn’t want to listen to her excuses anymore, no matter how many times I nodded my head and smiled. I loved her to death, and I loved her mother but this just felt like a cheap way to steal my empathy. But then, something cracked in me. Unrelated worries that had nothing to do with the situation at hand. The burden of failing Jane, Luke, work, our finances. I suddenly found a new sense of responsibility to this woman. I just let go.
“Claire, just shut up and talk.”
“She passed Zell. Mom’s gone. I thought you would have deduced that, I mean shit. I never call you for anything. Last time we spoke, I was telling you about how sick mom was. I have no fucking friends anymore. I love my job but I fucking hate my life. I hate what I’ve become, Zell, its shit. Everything is shit!”
It was four margaritas, two neat martinis and three appetizers later until we began to numb ourselves to the pain that we each had been going through. Claire however, started to develop an air of defiance about her.
“…so I said, I’m not going to play this victim anymore. I couldn’t do that to myself. We came from too strong of backgrounds for me to sulk and let my grief eat away at me. So you know what’s been getting me by? You’ll never guess first of all, and second, you’re going to freak out because I know you.”
“Jesus, what sins are you acting out to get you through?”
We both shared a moment of uncomfortable laughter, but I was dead serious. I wanted to know what she had leveled herself to to get by. If I could help in any way I would jump at the opportunity, even though I was still furious with her for a multitude of reasons.
“Zell I found this support group.”
I stared at her blankly for about twenty seconds to allow her time to elaborate. A support group? Was she this broken? Who am I to determine how much the loss of a parent affects someone but this was not expected of Claire by any means. She continued.
“I know what you’re thinking. And no, this is not a go-to-a-physical-location-with-ten-other-damned-souls and share your problems. No, no, no. This is online.”
When she said online, she paused to give herself a moment to analyze the facial reaction that I gave, however, I held my poise to allow her to continue.
“So it's an online support umbrella group that has all different kinds of topics where you join a chat and connect with others who are going through similar tribulations as you. Obviously I’ve been active in the group that supports the loss of family members, but there are so many. There are groups for quitting smoking, groups for new mothers or fathers, groups for newly open gays and lesbians, groups for cheating spouses, groups for felons, groups for alcoholics, etc. I was super skeptical at first, but I connected with a user who had lost his sister in a car accident. At first I couldn’t see how I would be able to share my pain and grief with another person, even if they lost a family member. But after a while I couldn’t keep bottling my pain in. So I started talking to this person and it has been a Godsend. Zell honestly it can-”
I was at a loss for words. This was not what I was expecting.
“Claire, timeout. So you’re exchanging personal details about your life with a complete stranger behind a username? Is this site even secure? Do you have to pay for it? What the hell, why can’t you just talk to me?”
“You don’t understand, and yes I thought of all of that. First of all, the site is secure, it has the green lock in the browser. Second, I can’t burden others with my tragedy, especially those that I have been so out of touch with. I honestly only wanted to meet you just to let you know because I know how much you and Mom adored each other. Other than that, I don’t want to spread my issues. I’m fucking hurting Zell, what do you want me to do? A coworker referred me to the site, someone I trust more than most people in this world. And you know what? After I tossed my skepticism out the window, I haven’t felt more at peace being able to absorb another person’s experiences, their feelings, and their frustration. It’s soothing in a way, knowing that another individual out there has it just as bad if not worse than you. I’m sorry this is my outlet.”
At that point I couldn’t tell if this meeting was to let me know about her mother passing, or if it was a test of hers to see how I would react to her utilizing this form of coping. I was truly devastated, on two fronts. I had lost an amazing woman, but also I realized that my once best friend no longer relied on the girls that she used to call her sisters, but now puts her trust and confidence in a chat room, to an individual that could be anybody and anywhere. Who am I to determine how to deal with personal loss though? I’m once again humbled and I snap my focus back to the glistening trail of tears that have made their way down her cheek. The waitress came to see if she needed to drop off the check after noticing that neither of us were drinking any longer. We kept going back and forth about how this could be a risky alternative to reaching out to friends, and Claire reminds me that she has none. During the exchange, the scratching picks up again. Something clawing at my inner being. We paid the check and walked to our cars.
“I’ll let you know when the service is. I need you to be there Z. I really do.”
“Of course I’ll be there. Just make sure you make it back safe, and text me when you get home.”
We hugged. I kissed her on the cheek and watched her as she got behind the wheel of her Mulano. Walking to my car, I found the receipt of the tab crumpled in my pocket that I had taken after signing for the bill. I went to throw it in the nearby trash can when I noticed another set of writing on it. It was Claire’s handwriting, with what I could only presume to be the link to the site she was babbling about. I kept the trash and made my way home.
It’s 9:37pm, the kids better be in bed, and I pray Luke is asleep. I walk into the house and all is near as hoped for except that the fridge is open and the faintest silhouette of a man is visible as I struggle to adjust my eyes to the lack of light.
“Put it back Luke. It’s getting late and you don’t need any more beer. Just come upstairs with me, please.”
“Oh I don’t? How do you even know how many I had? Don’t worry, perfect ‘mommy’ hiccup, I can see you scanning the living room. Jane’s in bed, I just checked on her an hiccup hour ago. See I can be a good hiccup father with or without you. And someday it will probably hiccup come to that.”
I was not having that. I try not to raise my volume as my voice quivers trying to get my tough comeback out.
“No, I will not be threatened and I will tell you one thing. If it ever comes to with or without me, trust me I will-“
SLAP
And that was the first time he had ever hit me. His beer bottle didn’t even move, he didn’t even look at me after he did it. He just took another swig and raised his chin to the ceiling. I froze. I dared not move for fear of being struck again. I tapped my lip to check for any blood, but no, it was just the ringing in my ear and the pounding of the after effects. After two minutes, I finally faced him. I didn’t say a word as I turned to the living room and logged on to my computer. I prayed that he would follow me and hit me again, just to give me a reason to kill him. He chuckled to himself, and began to march up the steps to the bedroom. Good, please go away. I debated on whether to get ice or not, but I thought better of it as I had an experiment that was brewing in my head at the time. Once I checked to make sure he was really upstairs I began to type in the domain name on the receipt in my pocket. It took about four tries before I got it right from memory as I had left the paper crumpled up in my jacket in the kitchen. The kitchen I won’t step foot in for at least another two days.
The page looked legit, very sleek and user friendly. I created a login and password and found myself at the home menu. After some navigation and curious browsing, I found myself questioning why I was even here. I deleted the account and made my way to the pullout in the basement where I laid awake for twenty-five minutes before hopping back up. Fuck it. I sat back down at my laptop and made my way back to the site. Create a new username… hmmm. I had an idea. It took me some time to think of what name I would use, but I figured this would only be an experiment so why not go all in? JeanPhee75. Then I clicked ‘create’. I stared at the new profile I had created for five minutes, mostly at the “Invite to Chat” button that I could use to engage with another person. Nope, I can’t. I just can't. I put my hand on top of my laptop to close it, when a bubble window appeared in the corner.
“hi there. Hope i'm not being too forward but I noticed your ‘member since’ date and saw you were new. so am i. Im a guy by the way, lots of people forget to mention their gender on here. lol”
I thought my heart would drop from fear if I received a message or some sort of invitation. However, without hesitation, my hands developed a mind of their own and began typing.
“I am. New 2 this. Thx for reaching out. Whats ur name?”
So much for the two day rule. I jumped up and went into the kitchen to pour myself some wine; and by some I mean I poured two glasses. I chugged one, then returned to my laptop with the other. My body warmed, and I felt my blood flush as I started to read his last three messages.
ns 172.69.7.64da2