Alone
I have to replay those words in my mind just to be sure I’ve heard her right. Kate never wants to talk to me. Okay, that sounds bad, and I guess it is. But we’ve just fallen into this routine where it’s easier if we only talk about the things we have to – the kids, the band, what we need from the grocery store – and ignore all the big stuff that seems missing or wrong.
I guess she’s tired of ignoring that stuff, though.
Hesitantly, my voice still gravely and not back to full capacity, I say, “Okay, let’s talk.”
She steps in closer to me and sniffs the air around me. I hope she only smells the tequila and weed and not the subtle hint of sex that has to be lingering somewhere on my skin. The rest of it, I can explain, even if she doesn’t like the answer. But telling her about Carrick giving me a hand job would probably be the last nail in the coffin of our marriage.
“You stink,” she finally says.
“Love you, too,” I reply. It’s a curse, really, the sarcasm. Every time I’m faced with an argument, I fall back onto petty insults and sarcasm. Usually, Kate can give as good as she gets, though.
She rolls her eyes. “Obviously it didn’t take you so long to get home because you stopped to shower.”
“Carrick made breakfast,” I say.
I don’t even know why I think that explains how late I was getting home, but the words just seem to tumble out of my mouth completely unplanned. I don’t miss the way that Kate winces a little when I say his name – if she only knew.
“You’re not going to do this with him every weekend, are you?”
She means the drinking and smoking, I know. But that doesn’t stop my mind from flashing back to the feeling of my cock against Carrick’s ass, then his against mine, then his fist around me and – no. Definitely not doing that every weekend. Even if it did feel really good. And the kissing Taylor thing? Yeah. Not doing that again either, judging by the way Taylor ran from it.
But she doesn’t mean either of those things and now she’s staring at me like I’ve just grown an extra head. I clear my throat and hope like hell I’m not drooling or something, and say, “No, not every weekend. That was just a party for Taylor. You knew that.”
“But it will happen again,” Kate remarks, crossing her arms. “You know it will. There are always going to be parties with those guys around.”
I don’t like the way she says those guys. She’s always made it pretty clear that she doesn’t like Carrick or Austin – especially Carrick – but this time it makes my blood boil more than every before. Sure, she’s my wife. But that doesn’t mean she can pick my friends for me, and I know that’s exactly what she’s trying to do. I won’t stand for it. “Yeah, there will be more parties. And I’ll go to those, too.”
“Will you?”
It almost sounds like a dare. If there’s one person who knows how to push my buttons even more than Taylor, it’s Kate. “Yes. I will.”
“Have it your way, then.”
She throws her arms up in the air and walks away, and I’m left reeling, trying to figure out if I’ve actually won this fight. More than that, I’m left wondering if it even was a fight. It isn’t often that we actually have those, and when we do, they tend to consist more of silence than words. Eventually, not speaking becomes enough of an inconvenience that one of us relents and the fight is over without a clear winner.
This feels different, and I can’t quite put my finger on how.
It doesn’t matter, though, because in seconds she’s out of the room. I gulp down the rest of my soda, just because I can’t think of anything better to do. I should chase Kate down and try to smooth things over, I know. But I won’t. What’s the point? Carrick isn’t just my friend now; he technically works for me. I’m going to see him, whether she wants me to or not.
I start down the hallway, determined to tell Kate just that, but my confidence leaves me when I see her heading toward me, rolling a small suitcase behind her. My voice threatens to leave me again. “Where are you going?”
“If you’d checked your messages,” she says, shoving past me, “or not gotten so drunk last night, you might remember that I’m going out of town with Natalie for a few days before the vow renewal, remember?”
“Oh, right,” I reply, and I do vaguely recall something about that, even though I’ve done my best to stay ignorant of all the planning involved in this stupid ceremony. It’s just easier that way.
She doesn’t even look back over her shoulder as she continues, “In fact, I was supposed to be at her house already, but I had to wait for someone to finally decide to come home.”
It takes every bit of self control I can muster not to roll my eyes at that. I don’t even know why I bother not to, since she can’t see it. Maybe I’m just trying to prove to myself, after last night, that I do in fact have some self control left. If only I could aim it at people other than my wife.
“Well, I’m home now.”
So much for self control, I guess. Even as they left my mouth, I knew those were exactly the wrong words. It didn’t even matter that I said them completely monotone, without my usual sarcasm. Kate’s shoulders twitch and I can see her fighting the urge to turn around and hurl a barrage of angry words at me. Instead she turns slowly, calmly, and says, “So you are.”
She turns and walks into Junia’s room then and I know the argument is over at least for the moment. That’s the one unspoken rule we have. No fighting in front of the kids. It’s one of many things we learned not to do because of Taylor and Natalie. So, even though this fight has been far calmer and lower volume than most of them, I know it’s still on pause for the time being. I turn the opposite direction and walk downstairs, making myself as comfortable as possible – which isn’t very at all – on the couch while I wait for her to return.
A few minutes later she walks by with her suitcase in tow, walking past me as though I’m not even there. I can’t say that I really mind. She’s out the front door without even another look at me, but I’m not surprised when she returns a few seconds later. I knew she would never just leave with an unfinished argument still hanging over our heads. She’d never be able to enjoy her girly weekend that way.
I don’t even know what they’re going to do all weekend with Natalie’s mom and no kids around. Something to do with dresses and flowers and all that jazz. All the wedding decoration bullshit that got thrown together at the last minute the first time around, I guess. After all, the big day is only two weeks away. God, it makes me sick just to think about it.
“Are you even listening to me?” Kate snaps.
No. Not one word, in fact.
“I didn’t think so.”
I sigh. “Start over again, please?”
She sighs too, but since I said please and wasn’t sarcastic, she relents. It’s almost too easy to manipulate her sometimes; yet I rarely seem to use that to my advantage. In this moment, though, it definitely works and Kate actually seems to grow the tiniest bit more patient with me as she repeats. “I said, I’m only going to be gone until Monday evening. There’s plenty of food already prepared and in the fridge so you don’t need to worry about all of that. You can handle the kids for a few days, right?”
“Yes,” I reply, still trying to appease her. “I’ll feed them, bathe them, put them to sleep on time, and take them over to Mom and Dad’s before I go into the studio Monday.”
The words come falling out of my mouth before I can think about what going to the studio will really entail. It means seeing not only Taylor but Carrick again. I hope Kate doesn’t see the subtle change in my demeanor, but I don’t know how she could possibly miss it.
Despite missing some very important things – like how I’d love to fuck my brother’s brains out – Kate is pretty perceptive. So of course she notices the way my entire mood shifts the second the word studio leaves my lips. And of course she immediately jumps to the most logical conclusion.
“You’re going to see Carrick at the studio, aren’t you?”
I nod, my mouth suddenly to dry to even form three whole letters.
“I think it’s best if that’s the only place you see him.”
Once again, my mouth is too dry to even form a single letter. It’s one of those moments where I know I’ve heard her correctly, but I still have to repeat the sentence in my mind over and over to turn it from meaningless gibberish to actual words. Once I do, I’m still shocked. Another unspoken rule of our marriage is that we don’t tell each other what we can and can’t do. Even though I know she disapproves of Carrick, I didn’t ever think she would ever go as far as to tell me not to see him.
The only problem is that right now, that’s exactly what I want. To just never see him again. It was absolute torture to sit across from him this morning like nothing at all had happened. So I find myself nodding and telling Kate, “Okay. No more parties.”
Kate nods curtly, her lips turning up in this smug smile that makes me almost regret agreeing to her ridiculous demand. But she’s said a quick goodbye, pecked me on the cheek, and walked out the door before I actually grow a big enough pair to tell her she can shove her demands up her ass. Like I could ever grow a pair big enough to say that.
Once she’s gone, the house is horribly quiet. Shep and Junia won’t be asleep much longer, I’m sure. Soon they’ll be awake and begging for the before dinner snacks I’m sure I’m not supposed to give them. But I will anyway, because I’m a bad father like that. I’ll let them have ice cream for desert, too. I’ll even let Shepherd stay up late playing video games with me if he swears not to tell his mommy.
And then I’ll stay up even later, drinking the entire contents of my liquor cabinet and killing zombies until the screen turns to a giant blur.
It’s going to be a miserable rest of the weekend; I have no doubt of that. Even with my kids here, I’m going to be horrible, painfully alone. The worst part is that I know it won’t even end after the weekend has. When I go back into the studio Monday, I won’t even be able to show my face to Taylor. There’s no way. And Carrick? The distance I know have to put between the two of us will be even worse, because I’ll be losing my other best friend and the only person who I could talk to about Taylor.
I’ll be forced to deal with not only Taylor, but now Carrick, all on my own. That thought alone is enough to send me running to the liquor cabinet already, even though it’s only barely the afternoon.
If I have to be alone, I might as well be drunk, too.