The Wally Lamb Fiction Collection: The Hour I First Believed, I Know This Much is True, We Are Water, and Wishin' and Hopin' (153 page)

The worst times were when she was between guys. Sometimes we didn’t even have any food in the house and I’d be like, “Mom, you have to get a job so we can eat something,” and she’d always go, “Don’t worry. Something will turn up. I’ll meet someone.” We had this trick where we used to rip off grocery stores when there was nothing in the house. . . . We’d go in and get a cart and fill it up like we were doing a big shopping and then we’d just eat stuff out of the cart—bananas, crackers, American cheese. Then we’d pretend we forgot something in Aisle 2 or whatever and just walk out of the store and my mom would go, “Don’t look back! Just keep walking!” Sometimes I’d still be hungry and she’d be rushing me out of there.

When she was between guys, she used to have to get all dressed up and go out at night. She wasn’t a hooker or anything. Don’t get me wrong. She just used to have to go out to bars and clubs and let men know she existed. . . . I used to think she looked so beautiful when she went out. I’d always help her get ready, help her fix her hair and zip her up in the back. It was like playing dress-up with your dolls or something, except it was your own mother. I didn’t think it was weird or anything, but that time after I got arrested?
And I was going to Dr. Grork? He said it was abnormal. Unhealthy. I guess I just didn’t think that much about it at the time. Analyze it or whatever. It was just our life. . . .

I used to hate staying by myself all night when she went out. I don’t really blame her. She couldn’t help it. How was she supposed to pay some baby-sitter when we couldn’t even pay for the food we were eating at the grocery store? . . . But I was always a nervous wreck when she was out like that. Thinking some killer or burglar was going to get me. I used to get so nervous that I’d pull out the hairs on my eyebrows. I did it in school all the time, too. It got to be a bad habit. I had this one witch of a fourth-grade teacher who was always yelling at me for making the skin around my eyebrows bleed. It was like this woman’s personal mission in life was to get me to keep my hands away from my face. There’s this school picture of me that year that I still have. I never showed it to you. It’s kind of pathetic. We were living in Tustin then. (It was just before my mom met her husband Mike.) And, in the picture, you can see these red scabs where my eyebrows are supposed
to be. Whenever I look at that picture, I get that same feeling in my stomach like I used to get when I’d be by myself all night, or half the night, or whatever. It’s like I’m that same little girl again and nothing else in my life has ever happened. It’s weird. . . . I’m not telling you all this to make you feel sorry for me, Dominick. I’m just trying to explain why I wanted so much for us to have a house, and a baby, and maybe even get married at some point. But you have to admit that I never tried to push you into it. . . .

The pregnancy just happened, Dominick. I keep thinking that you think I got pregnant just to trap you into marrying me. I’m real upset about that because that’s not at all what happened. Honest to God.

I really think having this baby is gonna change me for the better, Dominick. Make me a better person. I hope it does. . . . Ever since you told me yesterday about your baby daughter that died, I can’t stop thinking about her. I am so, so sorry, Dominick. That must be so heavy duty. And it explains a lot about you that I could never figure out. Why you seem so mad at the world or whatever. I just wish you had told me about her. I might have been able to help you through it.

I keep thinking about your ex-wife, too. I had a good cry over her last night—right in the middle of everything else I was thinking about. Probably because I’m gonna be a mother, too, now. . . . I never told you this, but I saw her one time. Your ex-wife. I don’t even remember her name, but I knew it was her. She was at the mall with Angie. Angie and her are sisters, right? That’s how I figured it out. They didn’t see me, so I just . . . I followed them. I sat down in back of them at the food court and listened to their conversation. They were talking about their mother—what they should get her for her birthday—and I just sat there going, this is Dominick’s ex-wife. This is the woman he was with before he was with me. . . . She seemed nice. I remember sitting there wishing that she, Angie, and I were three girlfriends out shopping together. That probably sounds kind of strange, but I never really had many girlfriends. Other
women don’t like me very much, I don’t even really know why. Last month, Patti at work had a baby shower for Greta (the nutritionist) and I think every single woman at Hardbodies got invited except me. If I was going to stay there, which I’m not, I bet no one there would ever give me a shower. I’d be lucky if I got a card that someone bought and passed around and everyone signed. I guess when you change schools nine times before you’re even out of high school, you don’t get to develop many friendships. I’m twenty-five years old, Dominick, and I can’t even say that I ever had one real girlfriend. Isn’t that pitiful?

Anyways, your ex-wife seemed so nice. And funny. She was complaining about her mother—not mean or anything. She kind of reminded me a little of Rhoda from
Mary Tyler Moore.
Not looks, just the way she was talking. . . . I know you never stopped loving her, Dominick. You never said anything, but I could always tell. It was like you always held something back from me. I know I never really measured up, and I know you never thought I was smart enough for you—intelligent enough or whatever. You never said anything, but I knew. . . . But anyway, I cried for her last night because I was thinking about how she lost her little girl. It makes me kinda scared to think about everything that might go wrong. But it also explains a lot. I just wish you had told me before. I might have helped you if you let me in a little. At least I could have tried.

I guess I’ve finally gotten to the hardest part of what I have to say, Dominick, and I hope it’s not too hard for you to have to listen to this on a tape. . . . It’s not easy what I have to tell you. I just want you to remember one thing. My feelings for you have always been real. I may have been dishonest about a lot of things—shoplifting, etcetera—but I’m being totally honest about my feelings. I know it hasn’t been good for us for a while now, but I thought at the beginning that we had something pretty special. In some ways, you made me happier than any of the other guys I’ve been in relationships with. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I wish the baby was yours. Because I really, really care about you. The feelings are still there, Dominick. Honest to God.

Thad is the baby’s father. It’s pretty complicated, but I guess I owe you an explanation, if you’re even still listening. . . .

Dominick, I was never honest with you about Thad and me. To begin with, he’s bisexual, not gay. I guess you’ve probably figured that out by now. He told Aaron about the baby yesterday, and Aaron kicked him out of their place. Another thing you never knew was that Thad and I didn’t meet each other at work, like I told you we did. We’ve known each other for a long, long time. Do you remember me telling you about my mom’s half-brother that came to live with us out in California? And how him and me were fooling around when everyone else was at work? Well, that was Thad. I was only twelve when it all started, and Thad was nineteen. He’s always looked younger than his age. I was just some stupid kid; I didn’t know what I was doing. Well, I sorta did and sorta didn’t. But, like they say, he kind of got in my bloodstream or something. Maybe because I was so young. . . . I just never could get over him. He was in the Navy back then—I think I told you—and
then he got transferred to Portsmouth. That’s where he began “experimenting” with guys. Started going to these bars and stuff. He used to call me up and tell me about it—all these descriptions of what him and some guy had done together. He’d call right after I got home from school, before Mom and Phil got home from work. He’d say, “Do you want me to tell you what we did next?” And I’d go, “Yeah, tell me.” Then I’d get off the phone and have dry heaves because I was so upset. It got so I couldn’t eat or anything. I missed him so much. I used to beg him on the phone to send me stuff—his fingernails
and things—and that was all I ever wanted to eat. It was so sick. But that’s how it’s always been with me and Thad. It’s like a sickness.

Yours and mine isn’t the first relationship this has ruined. When Denny, my second husband, found out about Thad, he went crazy. Ronnie, my first husband, never even found out. Which was good, because Ronnie could get real mean. It’s just that . . . Well, do you remember after I got arrested up at the Hills? And I was seeing Dr. Grork? He kept telling me I needed to get Thad out of my life and tell you about him. Come clean. Dr. Grork said it was a big risk, but that I really had to take it if I ever expected to really get some of the things I’ve always wanted. . . . But I couldn’t do it. I tried to, Dominick, but I couldn’t. I guess I was afraid it was gonna wreck my chance to be Carol Brady. Which is a big joke, I see now. I know he’s not good for me, but I can’t let go. Sometimes I hate him. You’re a hundred percent better person than he’ll ever be, Dominick. He’s very manipulative, very controlling. That’s what Dr. Grork
kept telling me, and he was right. . . . It’s not you, Dominick. It’s me. Thad and me are like a disease.

I’m not proud of what I have to tell you next, Dominick, but I guess I need to tell you. I don’t expect you to understand, or to forgive me, because I don’t deserve it. I just hope you don’t hate me too much. Maybe someday you can forgive me. Because I really, really broke your trust. . . .

I let him watch us, Dominick. When we made love. It happened twice. I said no for a long time, Dominick, but finally I gave in. . . . He used to beg me. He really got off on it. Thad’s had a crush on you all along. The first time was just . . . I don’t know. I just finally said all right. It felt weird. . . . And the second time, he set it all up, told me what he wanted me to do, which way to turn and everything. He was like a movie director or something. . . . He never taped us or anything—I didn’t mean it like that. Both . . . both times it was on a Friday. He’d get there before you came home—Fridays were one of the times when you and I would get intimate. Our pattern or whatever. So . . . he hid in my closet with the door open a little. He told me that the thought of you catching him was part of the excitement. Part of the thrill.

I didn’t want to do it, Dominick. It made me feel awful.
I was a nervous wreck with him hiding in there. But he begged me. Got mad when he wanted to do it that second time. He said he was going to leave me. Move away and not tell me where he was going. And so I said I’d do it, but that was it. Just that one more time and no more. . . . I know it was a huge betrayal. I’m so sorry. I don’t expect you to forgive me, Dominick, but at least now you can say, “Good riddance to bad rubbish. I’m glad I got rid of her. She was sick.” Which I know I am.

Tomorrow, I’m giving my notice down at Hardbodies. Thad’s already quit. I know you’re going to be in the hospital for at least another week and I’ll be out of the condo by then. Out of your hair—me and this baby. Don’t worry. I’m not going to rip you off or run out with your stereo or anything. I already have enough to feel guilty about. I told Thad he can’t even come over to the condo. He’s staying at a motel until we leave.

We’re . . . we’re probably going to drive cross-country. Or else I may drive out there by myself. I’m going to stay with my mom and Herb in Anaheim at that motel they’re managing. Mom said I can stay there for free until after the baby’s born and then we’ll see. It depends on what Herb wants. . . . I don’t know what’s going to happen with Thad and me. I really don’t. He’s still talking about starting up a catering business and having me be his bartender. I don’t know. Maybe after I’m a mom, I’ll have the guts to tell him to leave me alone once and for all. . . . I know he won’t make a very good father like you would have. If it’s a boy, I know you would have taken him to Little League, and Cub Scouts, and all those things. I can’t see Thad ever doing anything like that. He’s too selfish for one thing. I really wish so much this baby was yours. . . . I’m
not looking forward to living with my mother again, but she can probably help take care of the baby after it’s born. Especially if I go back to work, which I guess I’m gonna have to do. No kid of mine is going to have to go into Safeway and eat groceries in the aisles that we can’t even pay for.

I’m not sure, but I might put in an application at Disneyland. To be a cast member. Maybe that woman is still there who told me I’d make a perfect Cinderella. I still remember her name. Mrs. Means. Maybe by some miracle, she still works there. Still remembers me. Maybe I’ll end up waving at little kids in the Festival of
Lights parade and they’ll go, “Look! It’s Cinderella!” Thad thinks I should do it. It might be a stepping stone, he says, and he could be my manager.

Dominick, I know you’re going to get better, and that you’ll find someone who’ll make you happy, because it’s what you deserve. I’m sure you hate me right now, which is totally understandable. I hate myself. But no matter what you think of me, I’ll always be glad we were together for those almost two years. I was watching this program once? About Paul Newman? And someone on that show said how Paul Newman was a “real quality person,” and that’s what you are, Dominick. A real quality person. Just remember that we had some good times, too. Especially in the beginning. I’m so sorry I betrayed you. And that I had to lay all this on you while you’re so sick. But when you told me the baby couldn’t be yours, I didn’t know what else to do. . . . I’m probably the last person you’re gonna want to talk to once you listen to this, but if you want to get ahold of me, I’ll be at the condo for a few more days and then,
by the end of next week, I’ll be driving out to my mother’s, which the number is in that Rolodex thing of yours.

If . . . if you’re worrying about AIDS or HIV because of Thad—his lifestyle or whatever—don’t worry. He’s very careful about things. Aaron’s a fanatic about not taking any chances. So that’s one less thing you have to worry about.