Panic Attack (23 page)

Dana was scooping coffee into the coffeemaker when she heard someone enter the kitchen. She turned, ready to confront Adam, and saw Xan standing there. He was in the same jeans he’d been wearing last night and a plain white wife- beater. His hair was messy from sleep, but on him it looked almost stylized. She noticed how good- looking he was— somehow he was even more attractive with morning scruff, like he could be an underwear model— and then she felt embarrassed because he was seeing her without her makeup.

“Sorry,” he said, smiling. “Hope I didn’t startle you.”
“No,” she said. “I just, um, thought it was my husband.”
He looked at her the way he had last night, in that flirty way, kind of the way

Tony looked at her sometimes, then said, “It’s a beautiful day today, isn’t it?” There was innuendo in his voice, especially in the way he’d said “beautiful,”
as if he wasn’t only calling the day beautiful but calling her beautiful as well.
This seemed especially apparent because it wasn’t a particularly beautiful day.
It was cloudy, a little chilly.
“Yes it is,” she said. “So is, um, Marissa up yet?”
“Oh yeah, she is,” he said. “She asked me if I could bring her up some coffee.” “It’s good timing then, isn’t it?” Dana said. “Should I make some for you,
too?”
“No thanks, I don’t drink coffee. I don’t need anything to get me going in
the morning.”
He smiled at her in a slightly suggestive way. With any other guy— especially
any other boyfriend of Marissa’s— Dana might’ve gotten offended, but somehow she didn’t feel that way about Xan. His flirtatiousness somehow seemed
appropriate, within his character— and, yes, she couldn’t help feeling a little
flattered by the attention. It felt good to feel sexy, even when it was early in the
morning and she was wearing sweats and a baggy T-shirt.
While the coffee was brewing, Xan engaged her in small talk, asking her
where she grew up and how she liked living in Forest Hills, and she liked the way he seemed interested in what she was saying, looking right at her and not seeming at all distracted like Adam always did when she was talking to him. She could see why Marissa liked him so much. Not only was he very attractive and intelligent and talented, he was sincere and seemed like a genuinely good person. He was the type of guy Dana could’ve easily fallen for twenty or thirty
years ago.
Later, Xan was back upstairs with Marissa, and Dana was alone in the kitchen,
having yogurt with bananas and raisins along with her coffee, when Adam entered the house through the back door, sweat dripping down his face. He’d obviously been out jogging.
“Good morning,” he said, partly out of breath.
“Morning,” she said, trying to decide if she should mention anything about
the coffee. She knew he’d blow it up into another whole “discussion,” use it as
another opportunity to “express himself,” and she wasn’t fully awake yet and
didn’t feel like she had the energy for all that. Then it occurred to her that this
therapy phase of Adam’s was really a way of shutting her up, getting her to not
express herself at all. Maybe he thought he was bringing openness to their marriage, but the discussions were so tiresome that the end result was that she no
longer wanted to discuss anything with him. In the end, his desire to “communicate” had become a very effective way of cutting off communication entirely. “Is Xan still here?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said, looking down at her yogurt.
He took a deep breath.
“Try not to think about it,” she said.
“It’s just so inappropriate,” he said.
Oh, God, not again.
“She’s had boyfriends spend the night before,” she said.
“Yeah, but she hardly knows this guy.”
Dana didn’t feel like getting into another pointless argument; it was too early
in the morning for drama. So without another word she picked up her coffee
and her bowl of yogurt and fruit and went in the dining room, thinking,
You’re
not the only one who can do the shutting up in this marriage.
After breakfast, Dana did some cleaning and laundry— she wanted to hire
another maid, but she hadn’t gotten around to looking for one yet— and then
the sun came out and it was turning into a very nice day, so she went out to the
backyard and did some gardening. She’d already planted most of the bulbs for
next spring, but she added more tulips and narcissuses and did some pruning of the rose and forsythia bushes. While she was working with the hedge clippers, her cell rang. When she saw Tony’s number on the display, she couldn’t help feeling turned on. This had happened whenever he’d tried to get in touch with her lately. Her first response was to become aroused— she’d actually get wet between her legs— but then logic interfered and she got upset, feeling like he was harassing her and wouldn’t leave her alone. She let her voice mail pick up and switched her phone to vibrate, but a few minutes later he called again. She ignored this call, too, but when he called a third time she worried that he was crossing a line, that he was becoming obsessive. She remembered how he’d sent flowers to the house, and she was afraid he’d do something like that again or, worse, show up at the door. She turned off her phone, hating herself for letting things reach this point. Just because she was unhappy in her marriage didn’t mean she had to go out and screw up her life. She could’ve talked to a
therapist, tried to work things out. Her problems hadn’t been so unsolvable. She kept her phone off, but she was paranoid that Tony would try to call on
the home phone or come by and ring the doorbell. Adam was around the house
all day, reading and watching TV, and it was hard to be near him and act normal. A few times he asked her if everything was okay, and she said everything
was fine, she was just feeling a little under the weather. Xan had left earlier in
the day and then, at around five Marissa left with her knapsack/overnight bag.
Adam didn’t exactly seem thrilled about this, but he didn’t make a big stink
about it either. Maybe he was starting to realize that Marissa was an adult,
capable of making her own decisions, and he couldn’t stop her from doing whatever she wanted to do.
Dana and Adam had dinner— leftovers from last night— and it was actually
nice to have some time alone together. Maybe she was finally starting to get
over Tony, because for the first time in months or longer she had a good time
with Adam. They talked about minutiae— movies, TV shows, neighborhood
gossip— but it was a relief not to talk about the robbery for a change and not
be at each other’s throats. She wondered if she’d been too critical of him lately,
exaggerating his faults and ignoring the things she liked about him. He defi
nitely seemed to be making an effort to change, taking much more of an interest in her than he had recently, and she wanted to change her behavior, too.
After all, she certainly hadn’t been an angel in this marriage.
She initiated sex with Adam. After their long drought, naturally it was awkward. The first time, he came too fast— he’d had an off- and- on problem with
premature ejaculation for years— but she didn’t let her disappointment show, because she knew how sensitive he was about his occasional malfunctions. She thought that was it— maybe she’d use her sex toy or they’d go to bed— but he was able to get another erection, surprisingly, and they made love again. Two times in one night— this had to be the first time in at least ten years that they’d done that. He lasted much longer in round two, and she enjoyed it as much as she possibly could. She’d never thought he was incredibly sexy, but she used to think he had a nice chest, so, although his chest was flabbier than it used to be, she focused on it, imagining that it looked like it used to look. Of course, fantasizing only took her so far. It was just hard not to compare Adam to Tony— and despite Tony’s intellectual limitations, when it came to pure sexiness there was no comparison. Sex with Tony was always spontaneous and raw and intense, but sex with Adam was, well, sex with Adam. Like seeing a movie she’d seen dozens of times before, she always knew exactly what was coming next. But when she lowered her expectations, focused on the good rather than the
bad— he was certainly gentler with her than Tony— the sex was actually okay. The next morning Adam left early to make his tee- off time at the country
club in Great Neck. Later on in the morning, she took the SUV to Costco and
stocked up on food for the week. She spent some time browsing in the books
section, skimming self- help books with titles such as
How to Survive an Affair
and
When Your Affair Ends
. A couple of other guilty- looking people were reading similarly titled books and Dana wondered,
Do publishers actually expect
people to buy books with these titles
? The consensus was that affairs always
ended badly for everyone involved, and the reading helped to convince her that
she’d made the right decision in ending hers with Tony, nipping things in the
bud before the situation had a chance to escalate.
When she returned home, the Mercedes was in the driveway. Adam wasn’t
downstairs, so she figured he was upstairs, washing up or watching TV. Marissa
was in her room, or seemed to be— her stereo was blasting. Dana carried all the
cartons of groceries in from the car, making several trips. She began unpacking
the cartons, which included twenty- four- count packages of toilet paper and
paper towels and enough gargantuan boxes of Cheerios to last the whole year. She was putting away two oversized jars of mango salsa when she heard the
front door open, then slam. Moments later, Adam charged into the kitchen. His
face was horribly bruised and bloodied, his hair was soaking wet, and he was
screaming at her. “You fucking bitch!”
Dana was completely confused and terrified. She stared at him for a few
seconds, then said,“My God, what... what
happened
to you?”
“Why?” he asked, spraying saliva from his bloodied mouth. “Just tell me
why? Why? Fucking why?”
Naturally she thought,
Uh- oh, it’s Tony
.
“Why didn’t you come talk to me?” he said. “Isn’t that what I always do?
Don’t I come talk to you?”
She didn’t
know
it had to do with Tony, though. She couldn’t make that
assumption.
Playing innocent, she said, “I don’t know what the hell—”
Adam grabbed her arm hard and said, “Why? Just tell me why. After all I’ve
done. I’ve taken every possible step, done everything I can to save this marriage, and this is what you do to me? You
humiliate
me? Don’t you think I’ve
had enough humiliation lately? You think I needed
this
?”
“You’re scaring me,” she said, her voice wavering. “I have no idea—” “I know, okay?” He was still squeezing her arm, staring hard into her eyes.
“You don’t have to lie to me anymore, okay? I know, okay? I fucking know everything.”
Oh God, this was surreal. She felt like she was falling, plunging. She stared back at Adam, who still looked crazed. His left cheek was badly
bruised, and his left eye was partially closed. There was blood pooling on his
lower lip.
Finally she said, “I . . . I have no idea what you’re talking about.” “Oh, stop with your bullshit already,” he said. “Can you just do that for me?
Can you give me an ounce of fucking respect?”
“You’re hurting me,” she said.
“Hurting
you
?” he said. “That’s a good one.” He squeezed her arm harder for
a few moments, then let go.
She held her arm, looking down— anywhere but at Adam— thinking,
Maybe
I’m wrong. Maybe it doesn’t have to do with that at all.
“Why’re you doing this?” she said. “What’s wrong with you?” “Why can’t you just admit it?”
“Admit what?” she asked weakly.
“That you’re fucking him!” he screamed, holding up a piece of paper in front
of her face. His hand was shaking so much, there was no way she could possibly
read it. It looked like it had been crumpled, and it had red, maybe blood, on it.
Then she realized that it looked a lot like the other note that had been left at the
house, the one that had threatened Adam. Now she was totally confused. “Wh- what is that?” she asked.
“Read it.”
“I c-c- can’t read it. Your hand’s moving.”
“It’s from the guy you’ve been fucking— Tony,” he spewed, spraying saliva. She felt beyond light- headed, like she had no blood in her head at all. Her
legs felt like they were about to buckle, give way.
“How could you do this to me?” he asked. “Just give me a reason. I want to
know why. Why?
Why
?”
“It’s not what you think,” she said.
“Oh, shut up!” he screamed. “Just shut the fuck up!”
She’d never seen him this way, so angry and crazed. Thank God they were
downstairs and not up in the bedroom. He still had that gun cut in the closet. “Nothing happened,” she said desperately.
He glared at her like he hated her, like he wanted to kill her, then he said,
“You think you’re the only one? Huh? You think you’re the only one who’s miserable in this marriage?”
“I never said I was mis—”
“You think you’re the only one who ever wanted to cheat? You think when I
dragged you into marriage counseling I was a happily married man?” Dana started to cry, not because she was sad about herself but because she
was starting to understand how badly she’d hurt Adam. “I’m so sorry,” she said,
“but you don’t—”
“What, you think you’re the only one with bombshells, you’re the only one
with secrets? Well, I have a secret for you. I haven’t exactly been faithful either.
There, how does that feel? Does it feel good, or does it hurt?”
He stared at her, waiting to see her reaction, but she didn’t have one. She
thought he was lying, just to get a response from her.
“Please,” she said, “you don’t have to say things just to get even. If you’d just
let me expl—”
“It was with Sharon.” His smile was gleeful, almost demented. “That’s right,
your
friend
Sharon. We did it in my office, right on my therapy couch.” Dana didn’t believe him. “Oh, stop it,” she said.
“What? You think I’m making it up?” Adam said. “I swear on my father’s
grave, I swear on my life, I swear on Marissa’s life that I am not making this up.
humiliate me? Don’t you think I’ve
had enough humiliation lately? You think I needed
this
?”
“You’re scaring me,” she said, her voice wavering. “I have no idea—” “I know, okay?” He was still squeezing her arm, staring hard into her eyes.
“You don’t have to lie to me anymore, okay? I know, okay? I fucking know everything.”
Oh God, this was surreal. She felt like she was falling, plunging. She stared back at Adam, who still looked crazed. His left cheek was badly
bruised, and his left eye was partially closed. There was blood pooling on his
lower lip.
Finally she said, “I . . . I have no idea what you’re talking about.” “Oh, stop with your bullshit already,” he said. “Can you just do that for me?
Can you give me an ounce of fucking respect?”
“You’re hurting me,” she said.
“Hurting
you
?” he said. “That’s a good one.” He squeezed her arm harder for
a few moments, then let go.
She held her arm, looking down— anywhere but at Adam— thinking,
Maybe
I’m wrong. Maybe it doesn’t have to do with that at all.
“Why’re you doing this?” she said. “What’s wrong with you?” “Why can’t you just admit it?”
“Admit what?” she asked weakly.
“That you’re fucking him!” he screamed, holding up a piece of paper in front
of her face. His hand was shaking so much, there was no way she could possibly
read it. It looked like it had been crumpled, and it had red, maybe blood, on it.
Then she realized that it looked a lot like the other note that had been left at the
house, the one that had threatened Adam. Now she was totally confused. “Wh- what is that?” she asked.
“Read it.”
“I c-c- can’t read it. Your hand’s moving.”
“It’s from the guy you’ve been fucking— Tony,” he spewed, spraying saliva. She felt beyond light- headed, like she had no blood in her head at all. Her
legs felt like they were about to buckle, give way.
“How could you do this to me?” he asked. “Just give me a reason. I want to
know why. Why?
Why
?”
“It’s not what you think,” she said.
“Oh, shut up!” he screamed. “Just shut the fuck up!”
She’d never seen him this way, so angry and crazed. Thank God they were
downstairs and not up in the bedroom. He still had that gun cut in the closet. “Nothing happened,” she said desperately.
He glared at her like he hated her, like he wanted to kill her, then he said,
“You think you’re the only one? Huh? You think you’re the only one who’s miserable in this marriage?”
“I never said I was mis—”
“You think you’re the only one who ever wanted to cheat? You think when I
dragged you into marriage counseling I was a happily married man?” Dana started to cry, not because she was sad about herself but because she
was starting to understand how badly she’d hurt Adam. “I’m so sorry,” she said,
“but you don’t—”
“What, you think you’re the only one with bombshells, you’re the only one
with secrets? Well, I have a secret for you. I haven’t exactly been faithful either.
There, how does that feel? Does it feel good, or does it hurt?”
He stared at her, waiting to see her reaction, but she didn’t have one. She
thought he was lying, just to get a response from her.
“Please,” she said, “you don’t have to say things just to get even. If you’d just
let me expl—”
“It was with Sharon.” His smile was gleeful, almost demented. “That’s right,
your
friend
Sharon. We did it in my office, right on my therapy couch.” Dana didn’t believe him. “Oh, stop it,” she said.
“What? You think I’m making it up?” Adam said. “I swear on my father’s
grave, I swear on my life, I swear on Marissa’s life that I am not making this up.
I fucked your best friend. I fucked the hell out of her.”
“What’s going on here?”
Dana looked over and saw that Marissa had entered the kitchen. She had no
idea how long she’d been there.
“Nothing, just leave us alone for a few minutes,” Dana said.
“Oh my God, Dad, what happened to your face?”
Adam was still smiling in that strange way at Dana, looking like a mental
patient.
“Just go upstairs,” Dana said.
“Why?” Adam said. “It’s all out in the open now, she’ll find out eventually.
Why not just tell her?”
“Tell me what?” Marissa asked. “And what the hell happened to you?” “It turns out your mother’s been cheating on me with Tony,” Adam said,
“the trainer at New York Sports Club.”
“I have
not
been cheating,” Dana said.
“Why can’t you just have the decency to fucking admit it?” Adam said. “God, can you guys just stop it?” Marissa said. “What’s
wrong
with you two?” Now Dana was starting to wonder. Was he serious? Would he be taking it
this far if he
wasn’t
serious? She remembered that period— when was it?—
about five years ago when she’d had a falling- out with Sharon. Sharon became
distant, didn’t want to get together as much, and Dana had never known why. “Nothing happened with you and Sharon,” Dana said.
“Why would I make it up?” Adam said. “Just to get even?”
“Wait,” Marissa said to Adam. “You and Sharon Wasserman were having an
affair
?”
Dana was thinking about that New Year’s Eve party, when she had walked
into the kitchen and seen Adam with his arm around Sharon’s waist, holding
her close, and that time when she and Adam went to the movies with Sharon
and Michael, and she had seen Sharon and Adam turn to look at each other a
few times. It was all coming into focus, adding up, but she still didn’t want to
believe it.
“Sharon wouldn’t do that to me,” Dana said. “That’s impossible.” “You don’t believe me? Go ask her for yourself, but I don’t see what difference it makes now.”
He wasn’t lying; they’d really done it. Suddenly Dana felt dizzy, nauseous. “Oh my God,” Marissa said, covering her mouth.
Dana had to get outside, get some air. Maybe a few seconds later, she realized she was walking, then running along the driveway, toward the sidewalk.
At first she just wanted to get away, breathe, but then she had a destination. She went across the street, then around the corner. She rang Sharon’s doorbell a few times and then started banging on the door as hard as she could. Sharon’s husband, Mike, answered, looking confused and concerned, and
asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Where the hell’s that slut? Where is she?”
“Excuse me?” Mike said as Dana pushed past him and went into the house,
saying, “Where is she? Where the hell’s that lying little bitch?”
Dana went toward the kitchen, didn’t see Sharon there, and came back, knocking into Michael, who was saying, “What’s going on? What’s wrong?” “Dana?”
There she was, upstairs.
Dana ran up, screaming, “You fucking slut! You fucking whore!” Dana saw it in Sharon’s expression— it was true, everything was true. When Dana was a few steps away, Sharon turned and started to run down
the hallway toward her bedroom, but Dana was coming too fast. She grabbed
the cheating bitch from behind and tackled her.
Sharon was screaming, “Stop! Please, please stop it!”
Dana was punching Sharon, beating her on the back of her head and her
neck. Then she put her hands around her throat.
Mike was behind Dana, trying to pull her off of his wife, but Dana was
squeezing harder, digging her nails in, refusing to let go.