So Much for My Happy Ending (34 page)

“This isn't a really good time for the ‘I told you so' speech.”

“You're right.” She took my hand and we looked at each other. And for the first time I saw her. She wasn't the mother that I had always been embarrassed about, the woman who I blamed for all my problems. She was a woman who was a little lost and confused but who, deep down, had a very good heart. And she loved her daughter even if she didn't always know how to show it.

She took a deep breath. “I think I'm going to like being your friend.”

 

I had been in Monterey for two days before the doctors announced that Bobe seemed to be out of the woods. My mother and I were so excited we rushed to the gift store and bought the biggest teddy bear we could find. It had a Band-aid above its left eye and was holding a big red heart with the words “We Love You” embroidered across it. We had been staying in Bobe's apartment together. The first night I slept on what must be the world's most uncomfortable couch, while my mother took the bed. But on the second night my mother pointed out that there was room in the bed for two. It was weird sharing a bed with my mother but it was also kind of fun. Bobe had a television in her room and we stayed up late with a bowl of popcorn between us watching old
WKRP
reruns on TNT. We almost turned it off at 1:00 a.m. but then the Thanksgiving episode came on and neither of us was willing to miss seeing Les Nessman report that Mr. Carlson was dropping live turkeys from the sky. We laughed so hard that we scared Bobe's cat and he refused to come anywhere near us for the rest of the weekend.

Not all of our interactions went that smoothly. After spending twenty-seven years driving one another crazy, we weren't able to suddenly turn around and become best friends, but we were trying, and that was more than we had ever done in the past.

I had called Tad to tell him where I was. He had been sympathetic until I gently refused his offer to come down and meet me. Then he'd accused me of not wanting anything to do with him, which was true, but I had additional reasons for not wanting him there. It had become clear to me that the weekend was going to be about my mother, Bobe and me. There was no room for him.

I sat by Bobe's bedside while she tried to talk to me, but it was hard to understand her. However, she still had full use of her right side and so she wrote notes to both me and my mother. She noticed the change between my mother and me and I could tell by the faint sparkle in her eyes that it pleased her. When she fell asleep, Mom and I went to lunch in the cafeteria.

“Look—” my mother pointed to the refrigerated beverages “—they have beer.”

“I think we've earned one of those,” I said. “In fact, we should probably have a bunch. If we suffer from alcohol poisoning they won't even have to call an ambulance.”

Mom giggled. “I think we should stick to one. I've been kicked out of a lot of bars in my life but I'm not sure I want to be kicked out of a hospital cafeteria.”

“That would be a new low,” I conceded, and put one Budweiser on each of our trays.

We found a seat and munched on our respective salads. Mom took a sip of her beer and then pushed it aside so that there were fewer items between us. “April, what's going on between you and Tad?”

“Nothing good,” I said in between bites.

“Is it fixable?”

I put my fork down and let my finger trace the rim of my beer. “I don't know. I thought that if he just took his medication, things would get better, but I think that his problems go a lot deeper than being bipolar. He has some issues that he is either unable or unwilling to deal with.” I lifted my beer to my lips before continuing. “He had told me that he had a falling-out with his parents after he reached adulthood but that his childhood itself had been idyllic.”

“It wasn't?”

“No, that was a total lie. I know this doesn't seem possible, but I seem to have married a man whose family is even more dysfunctional than ours.”

My mother laughed. “Amazing.”

I stabbed a crouton. “I think I was willing to stick it out because I had my own issues that I was avoiding.”

“You know, your chart said this is a year of self-discovery and change.”

“Yeah, you told me. No offense, Mom, but I'm not going to make my life decisions based on what my horoscope says.”

“All right, what do you want this year to be about?”

I thought about it, then laughed. “Self-discovery and change?”

“Aha! The stars never lie.”

“Yeah, well, anyway…I'm going to have a long heart-to-heart with Tad when I get home.”

“And if the talk doesn't go the way you want it to?”

I shook my head. “I don't know, but I think I will when the time is right. I guess we'll just have to wait and see.”

T
he wind whipped through my hair as my car raced down 280. It was Tuesday night and I was finally going home. I had to admit, Bobe couldn't have picked a better time to have a stroke. I was going to start classes next week and start my new job a week after that, so the only thing I had missed by spending five days in Monterey was time with my husband, and I was okay with that.

Bobe was recovering surprisingly well considering her age. With some effort she could manage intelligible speech, and though she was presently in a wheelchair the doctors predicted that with the help of a walker she would be back on her feet by the end of the month. There had been the question of how she was going to manage once she left the hospital, but my mother had settled that issue by offering to move in with her. Apparently her job with the medical marijuana people didn't work out so she was free to relocate. I had serious doubts about how well that arrangement was going to work, but my mother's horoscope had reported that she was supposed to reach out to others, so I figured Bobe had at least until next month's reading before she would have to find a new roomie.

I hadn't called Tad to tell him I was on my way back. I wanted to wait to talk to him in person, although I hadn't even decided what I was going to say. Maybe it was okay to call it quits. What was my obligation at this stage? It was so difficult to identify the right thing to do.

When I pulled in front of my house I saw that the lights were on. I got out of the car but I didn't immediately go to the door. I was a little scared. Tad was so unpredictable it was impossible to surmise what I might be walking into. I took a deep breath. Whatever it was I could handle it. I was strong.

I opened the door and walked into the living room, expecting to find him prostate on the couch, watching some documentary on the Discovery Channel.

What I did not expect was to find him on the couch underneath a half-naked Gigi. I stood in the living room for a full minute too shocked to speak. Finally Gigi looked up and saw me. She gasped, scrambled off my husband and wrapped her arms around her bare breasts.

Tad looked horrified. He jumped to his feet and looked from me to Gigi and then back at me. His face was flushed and his eyes had a kind of wild look to them that I hadn't seen for a while.

I closed my mouth and met his gaze. “That,” I said, “is not Catherine Zeta-Jones.”

He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “This isn't what it looks like.”

I laughed. I couldn't help it. “Well, Tad, it looks like you were about to fuck my former assistant. Is that an incorrect assertion?”

Again his eyes darted between the two of us. “Yes,” he said with a shaky voice, “that's incorrect.”

“Okay, so maybe you could explain to me why Gigi's here with her top off.”

Tad flushed. I could tell that he didn't have an answer and I was kind of disappointed by that. I really wanted to hear what possible excuse he could have come up with.

“It's your fault, April,” Gigi spat. She was now trying to get her bra on without further exposing herself. “You've been, like, totally awful to him. Awful!”

I raised an eyebrow but my eyes stayed locked on Tad.

“He told me all about how you ignore him all the time. You are, like, the worst wife ever! You lay all this stuff on him, you even told him that he was antisocial!”

“No, I called you a sociopath,” I said, directing my words at Tad. “That's an entirely different thing—antisocial people almost never screw their wives' assistants.”

“Um, hello! You can't just pretend that I'm not here!”

I gave her a withering look. “I am aware that you're here, Gigi, you're just not important enough for me to acknowledge.”

Gigi looked as if she was about to combust. That wouldn't do at all. I did not want to have bits of Gigi all over my living room.

“I am, too, important!” she screeched. “You may not like it but Tad and I are in love, we have been for months….”

“Gigi!” Tad snapped. His eyes bored into her as if he expected the animosity in his glare to shut her up. He obviously didn't know her very well.

“I'm sorry, Tad, but, like, we have got to get this out in the open.” She turned to me again. “Tad and I started talking for the first time when he was coming in on your days off to leave you gifts. I mean, he is, like, the nicest husband in the whole world and you totally don't even appreciate him. Tad and I—”

“Gigi, shut the fuck up,” Tad shouted.

Gigi's eyes nearly popped out of her head. “Tad, how could you—”

“Gigi, you need to go now,” I said calmly. “I know you think that we have a triangle going on here, but the fact is that if you were to list Tad and my marital problems in order of severity, this little affair wouldn't even make it to the top ten.”

“I am important!” She actually stamped her foot like a five-year-old. Tad looked as if he wanted to sink into the floor.

“I'm sorry, Gigi,” he said with a bravado that I was pretty sure he wasn't feeling, “but I don't love you. I have always loved April. You really should leave now.”

“What!”

I sighed and shook my head. “I understand how that could have been confusing for you considering he was speaking in Standard American English, so allow me to translate his statement into your language.” I flipped my hair the way I had seen her do a million times before. “Your boyfriend is, like, totally not into you. So you need to get out of my house before I, like, totally kick your ass.”

Gigi advanced on me and I was really beginning to think that I was going to get to hit her. But then she stopped. Tad had stepped up to my side and his posture was defensive.

Gigi swallowed. She straightened her shirt and grabbed her purse, which was on the floor by the fireplace. She looked at us one last time and then turned on her heel and ran out of the room.

We listened to the front door slam and I prayed that there weren't any more broken car windows in my future. Tad tried to put his hand on my arm. I didn't jerk away. I just stepped out of reach.

“April, I know this is bad but…I was really upset. I thought you were going to leave me and then when I came home and saw those applications…some of them were for schools that are across the country, April! I just got upset, and the side effects of the medication…”

“You're not going to tell me that sleeping with Gigi is a side effect of the medication.”

“Actually, I stopped taking the medication a little over a week ago. It just didn't seem to be helping and—”

I held up my hand. “Tad, it doesn't matter.”

“Of course it matters! I know how you must be feeling right now.”

“That's just it. You don't know how I feel. If I was really upset by what I saw we'd have a place to work from, but when I saw you with Gigi…I didn't care.”

Tad stared at me.

“No,” I continued, “it was worse than that. I was relieved.”

“You don't mean that.”

“Yeah, I do. I felt that I owed it to you to stay. I didn't want you to commit suicide or hurt yourself, and I do take my marriage vows seriously, but you have broken every single one of yours. You have officially released me from my contract, and I'm out of here.”

“No, no, April, you have to give us another chance. I'll do anything. I'll take my medication. I'll never spend another cent. I'll—”

“You're not getting this. I don't want to work it out. I just want out, period. I have a change of clothes in the car, so I'll get the rest of my stuff later. I'll make an appointment to file for divorce tomorrow.”

Tad shook his head so hard that his features became a temporary blur. “You can't just turn around and walk out!”

I thought about that for a second. “You're right.” I walked into the bedroom and did a quick survey of the room. There by the window was my box of college catalogs and applications. I picked them up reverently. “I might need these. At least I hope I will.”

“April.”

“Okay, now I'm ready to turn around and walk out.” I started toward the front door.

“No!” He grabbed my arm and whirled me around. “You can't give up on us. You have to remember the good times, the times I was there for you. Like when you miscarried.”

I shook my head. “Tad, I am really grateful for the times you were there for me but it doesn't balance out anymore.” I gently peeled his fingers off my arm. “I still don't think you're a bad person, but you really are a mess. Not only are you a liar and an adulterer, you're also totally self-destructive, and self-destructive people always end up destroying the people closest to them.” I stepped backward, putting more space between us. “I can't let you destroy me, Tad.”

“I won't! I would never hurt you, April!”

I bit my lip. I felt sorry for him. But I didn't love him anymore and now I knew it. I had stopped loving him a while ago. “Goodbye, Tad.”

I turned back toward the door. My hand was on the doorknob when I heard him call out my name once more. I hesitated a moment and then, against my better judgment I turned around. He was standing behind me and he was holding a gun.

My lungs jumped into my throat and my heart stopped beating.
This must be fear.
But even my little voice wasn't sure. The emotion I was experiencing was so much more extreme than anything I had ever previously felt that I didn't recognize it.

The gun wasn't pointed at me. It was pointed at the floor. But he was holding it and his finger was on the trigger. Where had he been keeping it? I noted that the drawer in the console we kept in the hall was open. I had always dismissed that drawer as being to small to keep anything of significance in but Tad had proved me wrong. I forced myself to look him in the eyes. “Are you threatening to kill me?”

“What?” Tad's eyes widened as if he was shocked by the question. “No! I would never hurt you. I love you. I don't want to live without you.”

“So you're threatening to kill yourself.”

“I don't want to live without you,” Tad said again. “And I don't…I don't want to go to jail.”

“Jail,” I repeated.

“I think Sean and Eric have gone to the police. I think they've searched the office. I can't get through this without you, April. I don't want to live without you.”

The full reality of my situation came home to me. “You're holding me hostage.”

“No! No, I just…I don't…”

“Yes, you are. You're saying that if I leave someone's going to get shot.”

“Me! Not you! Not anybody else! Just me!”

“Oh, and suddenly you don't count?” My voice was rising. My anger was eclipsing my fear and I wasn't sure if that was a good thing, but I couldn't control it. “So you did embezzle that money.”

Tad shook his head, but it wasn't in protest as much as it was in confusion. “I messed up. I can get through it, though, if you stand by me. I can find a way out. I don't want to go to jail.”

“And I'm going to be dragged through this, too, right? I mean, the police are going to be questioning me, as well?”

“I don't know. Probably.”

“Well then, you are going to have to get yourself a criminal defense attorney and get something written up that says that I knew nothing about any of it and never saw a cent of the money. And then you are going to have it signed and notarized or whatever else you have to do to make sure it will stand up in court, and you are going to do all of that before you kill yourself.”

“I have to see a lawyer before I commit suicide?”

“Yes!” I slammed my fist against the wall. “You have been screwing me over from the moment you put the engagement ring on my finger! Now the least you can do is put your suicide off for one week so I don't get saddled with more of your shit!”

“I…I don't want to live without you.”

“So don't! I can't save you, Tad. I tried and I failed. So now I'm going to save myself. If you want to shoot yourself in the head that's your choice, but you're going to have to wait until you've seen a lawyer and signed some papers. Trust me, hell will wait.”

Tad started crying. Then wailing. If Edvard Munch's
The Scream
could actually make a sound it would be the sound that Tad was making right then. He fell to his knees and started rocking back and forth. The gun fell to his side and I knew I should grab it, but it was too close to his hand and I couldn't be his hostage any longer. I took a steadying breath, turned around and walked out the door.

 

About a half hour had passed and I was in my car watching the police take Tad away. I had called and told them Tad was bipolar and threatening suicide. He would be taken to a psychiatric ward now and I would be filing for divorce. Maybe doing so while he was in the hospital wasn't the proper thing. But I had had my fill of proper things. I had taken the safe job, married Mr. Perfect and look where it had gotten me. A psychotic husband who was screwing the bitch who got me fired. From now on I was taking the road less traveled. Obviously it was a safer way to go.