Leftovers
The rest of the studio day goes by surprisingly well, more than I ever would have imagined. Taylor and I keep our distance from each other, and if anyone notices, they know better than to comment on it. As things wind down for the evening, everyone starts talking about their plans for the night. Carrick, Austin and a few of the others want to go out for drinks, while Isaac has plans for a nice dinner at home with Nikki. Neither plan quite works for me; I don’t feel like pretending to be happy at a bar, nor do I have anyone to go home to.
Taylor looks just as unhappy as I feel, but there’s nothing I can do for him. Even now that he knows the truth, he still has to go home to Natalie and pretend that everything is fine. I can’t change that for him. I wish I could.
As I’m packing up my laptop to leave, I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. That’s strange. Anyone who would possibly text me is here. I pull it out and stare in disbelief at the name on the screen—Kate.
I made lasagna and we’re not going to eat it all. You can have the leftovers, if you want.
I’m not sure what to say to that. I text back just one word—Okay—but even after I’ve gotten in my truck and started down the road toward the house I used to call home I feel like there’s something strange about the whole idea. Why is she inviting me over? Is it really just because she has extra food? Then I remind myself—this is my wife, at least for now, not Natalie. She isn’t that devious. Surely she has no ulterior motives.
But what if she does?
It’s that little bit of doubt, that nagging worry that I just can’t know what she’s thinking, that keeps me on the edge of my seat during the entire drive. I’m halfway tempted to dig around in the glove compartment and under the seat for a roach I can smoke to calm my nerves, but I know I won’t find one. Anyway, I know that showing up stoned is the last thing I should do. If I want to prove to Kate that I’m not falling apart, and I do, then I need to be sober. The last thing I need is for Kate to worry and feel sorry for me.
Even though I know there are three people inside, the house looks deserted. It never did look all that lively and lived in, though, even when we were all here. I never used to think that was a big problem; we were just quiet at home. That was all. I should have known it was a sign of a bigger problem.
It feels strange to let myself in with the key I still have, but it would feel even worse to knock or ring the doorbell. I go in through the garage and down the short hallway to the kitchen. The only sound is running water and the soft hum of a television set in the next room. It’s still every bit as quiet as ever, maybe even moreso.
I stand just inside the kitchen for a moment, staring down at my feet. Kate has her back to me as she rinses off dishes, so she hasn’t even noticed that I’m in the room yet. After a minute or so, I clear my throat to get her attention.
“Oh,” she says, jumping a little. “I didn’t hear the door…”
“Sorry,” I reply. It’s sad that after spending so long together, our conversations are barely more than monosyllabic.
Kate turns the faucet off and picks up a towel to dry her hands. She’s not wearing her ring, which I suppose isn’t strange since she was washing dishes, but it still looks wrong. It occurs to me that mine is still around my neck; it’s become such a part of me that I didn’t even think about the fact that I’m still wearing it. Should I take it off or can it wait until the divorce is final? I don’t know. It’s just a symbol, anyway. What difference does it make?
“Are you, umm… are you alright, Zac?”
At Kate’s words, I realize that I’ve been staring off into space. I shake my head a little to clear it, then give her what I’m sure is a pathetic attempt at a smile. “Yeah, I was… I’m just tired. We had a long day at the studio.”
“It’s good that you guys are working again, though,” she replies, but I can tell she doesn’t totally buy my excuse. I don’t either. “Well, umm, I went ahead and put the lasagna in the fridge, in some tupperware. I guess you can take it…”
I nod, because I can’t think of an appropriate response to that, and walk over to the refrigerator. It’s weird how I already don’t feel at home here, when half my stuff is still scattered around this house. I know I need to pack the rest of it up, too, but like taking off the ring, it’s just another thing that says it’s really over. I’m not sure why I’m so reluctant to let go of this marriage, after everything I’ve done behind Kate’s behind. It’s been over for a long time. Why can’t I let it go?
Once I’ve retrieved the container of lasagna, there’s no reason for me to linger, but like everything else, I just can’t let go. I stand there awkwardly in front of the refrigerator, trying not to stare at Kate, rocking back and forth on my heels.
“So, I was, umm… I mean, I have an appointment with a lawyer,” Kate says, breaking the silence.
“Oh,” I reply. “Okay, that’s… do I need to get a get lawyer? Or be there? I don’t know… how any of this works.”
Kate shrugs softly. “Me either. That’s why I made the appointment. I’ll get some answers and then… I’ll let you know what we need to do next, okay?”
I don’t know how she can be so nice and patient with me. I’m not sure she was even this patient when we were still trying to make things work. Maybe having me out of the house is just that much of a weight off her shoulders. If she only knew… but that’s why I’m giving up things with Taylor. So that Kate never will know the truth of just how awful I am.
I’m so busy staring down at my own feet that I barely even realize she’s stepped in closer to me until her shadow hits me. She reaches for my arm and asks, “Are you okay? Really? You seem… off.”
“I don’t… I’m… yeah, I’m fine,” I manage to stutter out, sounding absolutely unbelievable. It’s no surprise at all that even Kate can see right through me. We may be practically strangers now, but she’s a smart woman. She can see what’s right in front of her.
Kate frowns. “Are you really? Is it… us… or something else? Is everything okay with the band? I know things have been rough lately and you guys haven’t been able to work much.”
“No, it’s not…” I begin, then shake my head. There’s no way I can even come up with an excuse. “I guess it’s just… the divorce, separation, whatever.”
“You know I’m not trying to make this hard on you, right?” Kate asks, her frown deepening so much that I almost want to joke that it will stay that way.
“I know. And you aren’t.”
It’s the truth. She isn’t. It’s my own sins and Natalie’s discovery of them that’s the problem, but of course, I can’t tell Kate that and ease her fears. I can’t tell her a single thing that goes any deeper than the surface, anything that does more than just skim at the truth.
“If I ever do, let me know, okay?” She asks, giving my arm a little squeeze before finally letting it go. “This should go as easily as it can… for the kids, and for you. Just because things didn’t work out between us… I just can’t hold that against you and you alone. I was here, too.”
I don’t know where all of this came from, and all I can do is listen and nod dumbly. How is it that Kate ended up with a best friend like Natalie, anyway? Does she even have a clue what her friend is really like? Surely she has to… but Kate, she isn’t like that. For all the times we’ve fought, I know she isn’t truly a bad person. She’s just not the right person for me, and I’m not the right person for her, in so, so many ways.
It’s a good thing she only knows a few of those ways.
“I know,” I reply. “I’ll… I’ll let you know. You’re not doing anything, I swear. It’s just… me.”
It’s partially a lie, but Kate seems to buy it. With a tiny nod, she steps back. “I guess I’ll let you get going, then. You probably haven’t eaten yet. Do you need anything else? I only made the lasagna tonight, but there are some brownies I made yesterday and…”
I shake my head to cut her off. “No, that’s alright. I’m not going to starve to death any time soon, I promise.”
I pat my stomach to punctuate the statement, and that gets a tiny smile out of Kate. If there’s one thing that can break the ice, it’s my low self esteem, I guess.
“I’ll just get going, then,” I say. “Maybe tomorrow or the next day, I’ll come back and get some more of my stuff. I’m sure you’d like to have it out of your way.”
And I’d like for there to be less potentially incriminating stuff lying around the house. It’s not like I ever doodled Taylor’s name in hearts on my notebooks or anything, but it still feels like he’s written on every inch of my life. After what Natalie did, my paranoia is at an all-time high. I want everything that could possibly contain any sort of hint of the truth out of Kate’s grasp.
“Sure,” she replies. “Just give me a call before you come over?”
“I will.”
That’s it. That’s all that’s left of a six year marriage. There’s nothing more for either of us to say, aside from a few awkward goodbyes, and then I’m out the door. I hear the lock click into place behind me, and it’s probably the worst sound I’ve ever heard. It’s still irrational that this bothers me so much, but I suppose it’s just outward proof of how I fuck everything up. The one real relationship I’ve been in and I let it fall apart. And it’s my own fault that Natalie found those pictures and ruined whatever chance Taylor and I had of having something good, something real.
Everyone laughs when I call myself my own worst enemy, but it’s true. Although now, I suppose, Nat might rank a tiny bit higher on that list, but only just.
I’m going to look like a creeper if I hang around here much longer, wallowing in self pity at what used to be my house. With a heavy sigh, I climb into my truck and put the lasagna in the seat next to me. I don’t know that I even have the appetite to eat it, but I couldn’t tell Kate no. It would have just seemed petty and childish. At the same time, I don’t like knowing that she feels sorry for me and wants to help me.
What it boils down to is this: I just can’t win. At all.