Lauren Takes Leave (26 page)

“Well, that was bizarre,” I sigh, sitting down on one of
the beds.

Jodi makes sure that the door between our room and theirs
is locked. Then she comes and sits down next to me.

“Which part, specifically?”

“The Lenny coming to see me in Miami part!” I say. “I
mean, not that the me-being-in-Miami part isn’t bizarre, or the
us-being-here-with-a-gorgeous-movie-start part isn’t even more bizarre,” I add.
“I think I’m getting sick. I think I need to lie down.”

“Lauren, the Lenny-coming-to-see-you part is probably the
least bizarre of them all,” Jodi says.

Kat nods, coming to sit. “You’re beautiful. And you’re
funny. Putting aside the fact that Lenny’s pulled a dick move as an accessory
to potential adultery, he’s not wrong about you.”

“I don’t believe you.” I put my head on a pillow and pull
the blanket up to my shoulders.

“Believe us. We wouldn’t hang out with you if you were
boring and ugly,” Jodi says, stroking my hair.

Jodi’s so-called logic makes me smile, as always.

“See?” she says. “Such a pretty smile.”

“So…” Kat begins. “What are you going to do about Lenny,
exactly?”

“Sleep with him,” I mumble into the pillow.

“What!” Jodi shrieks.

“No!” Kat says.

“I mean, he did come all this way for me. It’s the least I
can do.” I grin.

“Oh, thank God, she’s lying,” Jodi says to Kat.

I reposition myself on the bed. “Ugh! Truth is, I have no
idea what I’m going to do. I mean, for all my daydreaming, I never thought of a
moment like this one actually presenting itself. I just had these blank
fantasies of us…like…on a mountaintop.”

“Like in
The Sound of Music
?” Jodi wonders aloud.

“Or hanging together at a club,” I continue. “You know,
when you go to have your picture taken in front of a blue screen and they
Photoshop the background in after? My daydreams are nonspecific like that.”

“Sexy.” Jodi smiles.

“You crazy slut!” Kat adds.

“Jeez, you two!” I say, hurling pillows at them. “What do
you want from me? I feel like I’m back in high school and my friends and I are
planning for my loss of virginity.”

“You planned it?” Kat asks.

“You didn’t?” I ask back.

I lie back down and readjust the comforter. “I’m a flirt.
That’s all I’ve ever been. A big-talking, daydreaming, romanticizing,
cock-teasing good girl. I never thought I’d ever have to deal with the
nitty-gritty of infidelity.”

“Oh, it could get nitty…” Kat singsongs.

“And gritty…” Jodi adds melodramatically. I ignore them.

“I guess I’ll have to talk to him, figure out how I feel.
I don’t know. He’s so adorable. But…shit. How old am I?” I sigh. “Kat, could
you open the minibar and pass me a tiny bottle of alcohol?”

This whole thing is actually making me miss Doug. Right
now I crave the safety of a real-life, stable relationship, even one as distant
as ours currently is. I wish I could ask
him
what I should do in this
situation.

I know, I know, this seems completely counterintuitive.
I’m just not used to making big decisions on my own. Doug’s opinion is so
strong, so sure, so ever-present. Even when I don’t ask for it, he gives it to
me. Like, every day for the past decade or more. “Those shoes make you look
like a librarian,” for example, as I’m heading out the door to work. Or, “If
you washed your car every once in a while, I might take a ride somewhere with
you.”

Oh, that’s right. It’s all coming back to me now. All the
tiny criticisms and how they build up until they became a wall around me.
Screw
you, Doug
! my head screams.
You and all your little barbs can just go to
hell.
“I’m just being sarcastic,” he’s said when I call him on his nasty
attitude. “You’re too sensitive, Lauren. They’re jokes.”

Sarcasm, my ass.

I climb off the bed, slide open the door to the balcony,
and step outside for some air. I swear, it’s hard to breathe around Doug
sometimes, even when he’s 1,200 miles away.

But then I think about how it used to be between us, in
those first years of our relationship and marriage. He was so easygoing and
thoughtful, so sweet and funny. Where did he go? And where am I?

“So?” Kat says, stepping outside with me and handing me
the world’s smallest rum and Coke.

“I think it’s time for me to call my poor, unsuspecting
husband.”

Jodi wishes me luck and goes to take a shower. Kat and I
turn off the TV to ensure complete silence while I’m on the phone. She busies
herself by mixing more tiny cocktails in plastic cups.

I close my eyes as Doug’s cell phone rings, imagining
myself in a different hotel room for an entirely different purpose.

“Lauren!” Doug answers on the fourth ring, sounding
relieved. My heart gives a small tug in his direction.

“Hi,” I sigh. I don’t know what to say.
I sort of miss
you? I’m having fun without you, behind your back? Lenny Katzenberg is here
with me in Florida and I’m pretty sure he wants to do the nasty with me?
“How are the kids?”

“Fine now.”

“Fine…
now
?” I ask. “But, like, not fine before
now?”

“We just had a little babysitter situation. Jackie had to
cancel at the last minute and I’m still in the city. She didn’t want to call
and bother you and I didn’t want to call and worry you, so I handled it
myself.”

He sounds proud of his efforts, but I’m not convinced.
“Could you elaborate? On how you handled it? Without me?”

“Why do you sound mad, Lauren? There was nothing you could
do. Relax, it’s fine.”

I’m not mad; I’m furious. With myself.

“But who did you call? Were the kids freaking out? What
about Laney? Were they by themselves? Is Jackie okay?” My mind immediately
travels to the worst-case scenario, in which my children are alone in the house
and have decided to turn on the oven, run the bath, and light some matches for
fun while downing bagfuls of peanuts and almonds. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“Because you’re
not home
, Lauren. Because there was
nothing you could have done.”

The fact that he’s right only makes me feel worse.

Kat, lured by the sounds of my distress, comes out onto
the terrace to pour me another tiny cocktail. I down it in one gulp and wipe my
mouth with the back of my hand.

“I called Mrs. Hunter from next door,” Doug continues.

“The one who killed her cat?”

“They were never able to prove that.”

“Did it hang
itself
in the basement, Doug?” I am
losing it now. “Did it?”

“It may have been driven to suicide, yes,” he says in an
even tone. “That’s what the police report concluded, at any rate.”

“How does a cat…?” I stop myself. “Is she still with Ben
and Becca?” I ask in horror.

“No, no. Jackie volunteered to get the kids off the bus at
three thirty, so I sent Laney home early. But when Jackie didn’t show up on
time, I called Mrs. Hunter, who brought the kids to her house for a snack.”

“Dear Lord.”

“Then I spoke to Jackie, who, by the way, didn’t sound
remorseful at all and who we will never again use as a stand-in babysitter.”

“But…she’s always been so responsible! Isn’t she getting a
teaching degree?”

“Whatever, Lauren. I don’t know where you find these
people.”

“Craigslist.” I turn my back on the view from the balcony
and lean against the railing. In the glass door, I catch a reflection of
myself, blond hair loose in the balmy night air.

“Anyway, I had to call Laney, who has a class tonight, but
she was able to send her roommate with our house key to babysit until I get
home. Diana, I think her name is.”

“You
think
?” I bark.

“I’m doing the best I can, Lauren!”

“I know,” I choke, willing myself not to cry.

I’m the only person I know who takes a small vacation and
ends up on a huge guilt trip.

“You okay?” Doug asks, his voice softer now.

“Mm-hmm,” I mumble, small tears rolling down my cheeks.
Right now, I want to smell my son’s hair. I want to bury my head in my
daughter’s warm neck. Have I strayed too far from them and Doug, from my life?
I take a deep breath.

“Can you tell me where you are? When you’re coming home?”

“Saturday,” I whisper.

“You’re sure? The case will be over by then?”

“I’m sure.” I say. “Done on Saturday.”

“Okay, then.” It sounds like he’s smiling. “That’s
manageable. I’ll just pretend you’re on a business trip,” he jokes. “One of
those teacher’s conferences in places like upstate New York, or Pittsburgh!”

Or Miami.

“I’m sorry, Doug. I’m so sorry,” I say.

“Lauren, it’s something you
had
to do,” he reminds
me. “Don’t be sorry.”

The fact that he’s being nicer and sounding more
sympathetic than I’ve heard him in months gives me pause.

Is it because I’m away? One of those
absence-makes-the-heart-grow-fonder things?

Or because I’m supposedly sequestered? Which must suck if
you have to do it in real life?

Or because I sound distraught, which I am, by the babysitter’s
abandonment of the children I abandoned first?

Or…is he distracted by something else? Working late,
canceling on me and the kids, never wanting to go out and have fun with me
anymore.

Maybe that distance I’m feeling in my marriage isn’t
entirely my fault. Maybe it isn’t entirely imagined.

I glance at the adjoining door between our room and
Lenny’s, and wonder, is Doug hiding something from me? I mean, it doesn’t seem
all that hard to cheat, lie, or steal from someone you love. Jodi can do it.
Tim Cubix can do it. If I could do it, couldn’t Doug?

“Doug. Is there anything you want to tell me?” I ask.

There is a slight beat and then he answers. “Nope. All
good here.”

His lighthearted sincerity is all I have to go off of. I
make a judgment call to believe what I hear, to put my faith in the man I
married twelve years ago and who I know so well.

I only hope he still has faith in me, when this crazy
leave of absence is done.

“You know,” I say. “This…jury duty thing. It
is
something
I had to do, actually.” I take a hearty sip of my latest rum and Coke and let
myself relax a bit.

“Oh, and Lauren, before you go. The strangest thing. I’ve
been getting these cryptic messages from a Martha Carrington over at the middle
school. She seems to think that you were released from jury duty on Tuesday
morning…?”

Fuck me! I try not to get frazzled as I stare at the sun
setting over Miami, and start yelling into the phone, thinking fast. “What’s
that, Doug? You’re breaking up! Damn this cell phone. The bailiff is calling us
right now…I shouldn’t be talking to you…Tell Martha I’m at a hotel in an
undisclosed location and that we’re about to have pizza delivered to our
rooms…I’m bunking with a woman named Carrie…not allowed to watch TV or turn on
the radio…like the OJ case…highly sensitive matter…I love you…I gotta go!” I
finish, opening the sliding glass door and tossing my cell phone onto the bed
as if it’s on fire.

“This is rockin’!” Tim screams over the beat of deep
bass, giving me the thumbs-up sign and drinking his alcohol like a good boy. He
has been completely transfigured. Back in the hotel room, Jodi used her
professional makeup kit to transform Tim. Then we accessorized him to the hilt
so that no one can even tell there’s a person under all the stuff.

It’s amazing what a hat, sunglasses, and a hairy mole can
do to change one’s appearance.

“You’re like the Artist Formerly Known as Tim Cubix!” I
yell back.

“Shh.” He chuckles, swaying slightly in the tide of the
crowd. “Don’t give it away. I love being anonymous!”

“That’s why the Clevelander is so perfect for us tonight,”
I add. “It’s easy to get into and it’s filled with tons of trashed nobodies!”
I’m finding that the more I drink, the easier it gets to just hang with my
movie star.

Even though he’s in disguise, he does not want to hit the
usual high-end Miami hot spots tonight.

“When I party, I’m not looking for an attitude, but a
vibe,” he says. “And this place has got it.”

“Woo-hoo!” Kat says by way of agreement, coming over to us
with Lenny in tow. Alcohol has made her soften a bit toward Lenny. “Although I
still think he’s a prick to pick on a married lady,” she assured me, before
pulling him onto the dance floor a few minutes ago.

“Have you seen the women’s bathroom?” Kat asks us.

“I regret that I have not,” Tim notes.

“Well,” she continues, clearly tipsy, “it is, like,
stocked with great stuff! There’s hairspray to use and all, and condoms, but
then there’s also a full-on candy bar! With gum and mints, and…these!” she
says, producing enough Blow-Pops for us to each take one. Which we do.
Enthusiastically.

“Hey, where’s Jodi?” Kat asks. I gesture toward the raised
dance floor, where she is dancing to Pink’s “Bad Influence” with the huge,
blacker-than-night bouncer.

“Ooh…let’s join her!” We push our way through the crowd of
spring-breaking twentysomethings until we reach the front.

I have managed to avoid any solo time with Lenny, thus
avoiding having any sex with him. So far this strategy has worked.

Lenny and the Artist decide to watch from the sidelines as
Jodi, Kat and I have a blast dancing our asses off. Lenny stands a good three
or four inches taller than Tim, and I realize that the movies make him seem
bigger than he really is.

Kat’s request for the Weather Girls’ “It’s Raining Men”
floods the dance floor with bodies. We are suddenly surrounded by tons of
people, a circle forming around us. We take turns busting out moves and dancing
with strangers, as onlooking dancers hoot and applaud.

Jodi disappears momentarily and comes back with MC Lenny,
who takes center stage with ease. He breakdances, moonwalks and gyrates around
Jodi, who smiles and shakes her butt at him. Then the bouncer finds Jodi again
and Lenny is left dancing solo.