Something Borrowed (34 page)

groundwork.

She looks at me and makes a whimpering sound. As confident as

Darcy is, she can seem so pitiful and defenseless when she is

down. And my instinct has always been still is to help her. "Tell

me, Darce," I say gently.

"Rachel I I took off my ring in somebody's apartment."

"Okay."

"A guy's apartment."

I feel as though I'm looking through a camera, trying to focus. Is

she saying what I think she's saying?

"Rachel," Darcy says again, this time in a whisper. "I cheated on

Dexter."

I stare at her, unable to mask my shock.

Yes, Darcy is a flirt. Yes, she lives life on the edge. Yes, she is

selfish. And yes, she loves male attention. The attributes add up

and it makes sense. I should not be surprised that she would

cheat. I mean, Dex is none of the above, and he is doing it. Still, I

am floored. She is getting married in less than two months. She is

a glowing bride-to-be with a stunning gown, the kind that you

dream about when you're a little girl. And she is with Dexter. How

in the world could anyone cheat on Dexter?

The five ws and one h of journalism pop into my head.

I am in

high school reporter mode, interviewing for the North Star. "Who

with?"

She sniffs. Her head is down. "This guy at work."

"When?"

"A couple of times. Today." She rubs her eyes with her fists and

looks at me sideways.

I don't know what my face is giving away. And I'm not even sure

exactly how I feel. Relieved? Outraged? Disgusted?

Hopeful? I

haven't had time to consider the implications for Dex and me.

"And that's how you lost your ring?"

She nods. "I went over there today after I left my apartment, on

the way to work." She swallows and then lets out a small sob. "We

hung out, you know, fooled around "

"Did you sleep with him?"

Her ponytail jerks up and down.

"I took my ring off because well, I felt too guilty wearing it while

I had sex with someone else." She blows her nose into an already

soggy tissue.

"You want a fresh one?"

She nods again. I jog the few steps to the bathroom to retrieve my

Kleenex box.

"Here," I say, handing her the box.

She takes a tissue and blows her nose again loudly. "So anyway, I

took off the ring and put it on his windowsill, next to his bed." She

points to my bed in its alcove. "He has a studio sort of like yours."

A studio. So he's probably not an executive, which surprises me. I

would have guessed that Darcy would go for the power type. An

older man. I had been picturing Richard Gere in Pretty Woman. I

change my mental image to Matt Damon in Good Will Hunting.

"So we hang out, you know." She waves her hand in the air. "Then

we get dressed and walk to the subway. Go to work."

"Uh-huh"

"So when I get to work, I realize that I forgot to put on my ring. So

I call him and tell him I need to go back and get the ring. He says

no problem, but that he has a meeting at three that is going to last

a couple of hours. Can we meet there at seven? I tell him sure So

we meet back at his place at seven. And when we go in, the place

is, like, totally clean. And when we left, it was a total dump. And

he goes, 'Shit. The cleaning lady was here.' And we go over to the

windowsill and the ring is gone!" She is crying harder now. "The

bitch took it."

"Are you sure? I can't believe someone would do that"

She gives me a "Don't be such a Pollyanna" look. "The ring is

gone, Rachel. Gone. Gone. Gone!"

"Well, can't he just call his cleaning lady and tell her that he

knows she took it?"

"We tried that. She doesn't speak English very well.

She just kept

saying that she 'didn't see no ring.'" Darcy imitates the maid's

accent. "I even took the phone. I told her I would give her a big,

big reward if she finds it. The bitch isn't stupid. She knows that

two carats are worth about twenty million dirty toilets."

"Okay," I say. "But it's insured, right?"

"Yeah, it's insured. But what the hell am I going to tell Dexter?"

"I don't know. Tell him that it fell down the drain at work Tell

him that you took it off at the gym and somebody broke into your

locker."

She gives me a half-smile. "I like the gym one. That's believable,

right?"

"Totally."

"I just can't believe this happened."

That makes two of us. I can't believe that Darcy cheated on Dex

with some random guy. I can't believe that I am helping Darcy

cover up her affair. Does everyone cheat when they're engaged?

"Is this a full-fledged affair?" I ask.

"Not really. Just a couple of times."

"So it's not serious?"

"I don't know. Not really. I don't know." She shakes her head and

then rests her forehead in her hands.

I wonder if Darcy's recent moodiness has anything to do with this

guy. "Are you in love with him?"

"God, no," she says. "It's just fun. It's nothing."

"Are you sure you should be getting married?" I ask.

"I knew you would say something like that!" Darcy starts to cry

again. "Can't you just help me without being all pious?"

Trust me, I'm not being pious.

"I'm sorry, Darce. I'm not trying to be pious I was just offering

you an out if you wanted one."

"I don't want an out. I want to get married. I just I don't know I

just panic sometimes that this is it. That I will never be with

anyone else ever again. And so I just had this little fling. It was

nothing."

"Okay," I say. "All I meant was that if you are unsure of this whole

marriage thing I just want you to know that I fully support

whatever decision "

She interrupts me. "There's no decision to make! I'm getting

married. I love Dex."

"Sorry," I say. And I am sorry. I'm sorry that I love Dex too.

"No. I'm sorry, Rachel," she says, touching my leg. "It's been a

horrible day."

"I understand."

"I mean, do you understand? Can you imagine what it is like to be

weeks away from a promise that is supposed to last forever?"

Oh, poor you. Does she have any idea how many girls would kill to

make a promise like that to someone like Dexter? She is looking at

one of them.

" 'Forever is a mighty long time,'" I say, with a hint of sarcasm.

"Are you quoting a Prince song? You better not be quoting a

Prince song in my time of need!"

I tell her no, although that was precisely what I had been doing.

"It is a long time," she says. "And sometimes I don't know if I can

do it. I mean, I know I want to get married, but sometimes I don't

know if I can go forty more years or however long it is and never

feel that thrill of kissing someone new. I mean, look at Hillary.

She is on cloud nine, isn't she?"

"Yeah."

"And it's not like that with Dexter anymore. Ever. It's all just the

daily grind him going to work all the time, leaving me with all the

wedding plans. We're not even married and the fun part is already

so far gone."

"Darce," I say. "Your relationship has evolved. It's not about the

initial frenzy, the lust, the newness."

She looks at me as if she's really paying attention, taking mental

notes. I can't believe what I'm saying. I'm convincing her that her

relationship is this great, special thing. I don't know why I'm

doing it. Probably just nerves. I keep going. "The thrill of the

chase is always exciting. But that's not what a real, lasting, loving

relationship is all about. And the initial infatuation, the

'I can't

keep my hands off you' routine, it fades for everyone."

Except for Dex and me, I think. It would always be special with

Dex and me.

"I know you're right," she says. "And I do love him."

I know she believes what she's saying, but I'm not sure she does

love him. I'm not sure she's capable of truly loving anyone but

herself.

Jose buzzes my intercom to tell me that my food has arrived.

"Thanks. You can send him up," I say into the speaker.

As I step into the hall to pay the delivery guy, my home phone

rings. I panic. What if it is Dex? I thrust my bills at the guy and

dash back inside, throw the bag on my coffee table, and lift up the

phone right as the answering machine is about to click on. Sure

enough, it's Dex.

"Hi," he says. "I'm so sorry I haven't called you today.

It's been a

nightmare of a day. Roger had me "

"It's okay," I say, interrupting him.

"Can I come over? I wanna see you."

"Um, no," I say.

"I can't?"

"No"

"Okay Why? Do you have company?" He lowers his voice.

"Yeah," I say, trying to monitor my tone of voice for both listening

parties. "Actually I do."

I look at Darcy. She mouths, "Who is it?"

I ignore her.

"Okay All right then It's not Marcus, is it?" Dex asks.

"No Darcy's here," I say.

"Ohhh. Shit. Good thing I called first," he whispers.

"So we'll talk tomorrow?"

"Yeah," he says. "Definitely."

"Sounds good."

"Who was that?" Darcy asks, as I hang up the phone.

"It was Ethan."

"Onion, was it Marcus?" she asks. "You can tell me."

"No, it really was Ethan."

"Maybe he's calling to tell you that he's gay."

"Uh-huh," I say, opening our cartons of food.

As we eat our Chinese food, I ask about Dex, how he is doing.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, does he suspect that anything is going on?"

She rolls her eyes. "No. He works too much."

I note that she does not change my word choice of "is going on" to

"was going on."

"No?"

"No. He's just the same, normal old Dex."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. Why?" She opens her Sprite, sips from the can.

"I just wondered," I say. "I've read that when someone is cheating,

the other person usually knows it on some deep, inner level."

She slurps wonton soup from her plastic spoon and looks at me

blankly. "I don't believe that," she says.

"Yeah," I say. "I guess I don't either."

After we finish our dinner, I hold up two fortune cookies. "Which

one do you want?"

She points to my left hand. "That one," she says. "And it better be

good. I can't take more bad luck."

I feel like telling her that choosing to sleep with a coworker and

carelessly leaving your ring behind in his apartment has nothing

to do with luck. I pull the plastic wrapper off the stale cookie,

crack it open, and silently read my sliver of paper. You have much

to be thankful for.

"What's it say?" Darcy wants to know.

I tell her.

"That's a good one."

"Yeah, but it's not a fortune. It's a statement. I hate when they

pass statements off as fortunes."

"Then pretend it says, 'You will have much to be thankful for,'"

she says, opening her wrapper. "Mine better say, 'You will get your

ring back from the Puerto Rican bitch.'"

She silently reads her fortune and then laughs.

"What?"

"It says, 'You have much to be thankful for.' That's bullshit.

Mass-produced fortunes!"

Yeah, and only one of us will have much to be thankful for.

Darcy tells me that she better get going, that she has to go face the

music. She tears up again as she reaches for her purse.

"Will you

tell Dex for me?"

"Absolutely not. I'm not getting involved," I say, amusing myself

with the absurdity of the statement.

"What do I say again?"

"That you lost it at the gym."

"Is there time to get a new one before the wedding?"

I tell her yes, realizing that she has not once expressed any

sentimentality over the ring that Dexter picked for her.

"Rachel?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you think I'm a terrible person? Please don't think I'm a

terrible person. I have never cheated on him before. I'm not going

to do it again. I really do love Dex."

"Okay," I say, wondering if she will do it again.

"Do you think I'm awful?"

"No, Darcy," I say. "People make mistakes."

"I know, that's what it was. A total mistake. I really, really regret

it."

"You did use a condom?" I ask her.

I picture the chart in health class explaining that for every sexual

partner you have, there are essentially dozens of others that you

don't even know about: everyone he slept with, and so on and so

on

"Of course!"

"Good." I nod. "Call me later if you need me."

"Thanks," she says. "Thank you so much for being here for me."

"No problem."

"Oh, and this goes without saying don't tell anyone. I mean,

anyone. Ethan, Hillary"

But what about Dex? Can I tell Dex?

"Of course. I won't tell anyone."

She hugs me, patting my back. "Thanks, Rachel. I don't know

what I'd do without you."

When Darcy leaves, I formulate my answer to the obvious

dilemma to tell or not to tell. I approach it as I would an exam

question, keeping emotion to the side:

At first blush, the answer seems clear: tell Dexter. I have three

major reasons motivating this decision. First, I want him to know.