What Have You Done(2)

Vanessa folded her arms across her chest. “What’s going on?” she asked.

“I have no idea.”

“You really can’t remember how you got in there?”

“I’m serious. I can’t remember anything.”

“Must’ve been a rough night last night.”

Liam began to examine himself. He was wet and still shivering. A large scratch ran down from his shoulder to his chest. It looked raw. “Wait. You said I slept on the couch?”

“All night, apparently. I woke up around four and realized you weren’t in bed. When I went down to look for you, you were on the couch, snoring like a drunken fool. I could smell the liquor on you. Would’ve been nice if you called to tell me you were staying out that late. You know how I get nervous.”

“Sorry. I was planning to call. I guess the night just got away from me.” Liam began to towel off. He could sense that familiar tone in Vanessa’s voice. She was upset, and he didn’t want to fight again.

“What time did you get in?”

And then he stopped what he was doing. Stopped dead in his tracks as his eyes glassed over for a moment. “To be honest, I have no idea,” he whispered more to himself than to his wife. “I can’t remember that either.”

“Oh, that’s comforting. Missing the old college days, are we?” Vanessa took a second towel from the rack and started cleaning the standing water on the floor. “You’re a grown man, Liam. You’re getting too old for blackouts.” She looked up at him and pointed. “What happened to your chest?”

Liam didn’t say anything.

“Yeah, I know. You don’t remember.”

She finished drying the floor, then bent over the side of the tub and took the stopper out. He watched as she picked up his boxers from next to the sink, balled them up, and stuffed them in the pocket of her robe. She always cleaned when she was angry. Whether it was a small argument that made her start dusting or a blowout that required a closet reorganization, the cleaning and the anger worked hand in hand. It had been like that since they first met.

“Where are your clothes?” Vanessa asked.

The whistling of the water rushing down the drain made Liam’s lungs contract as if he were drowning all over again. He felt as if he might be sick. “The living room?”

“No, they’re not.”

He surveyed the bathroom, but there were no clothes anywhere.

“Never mind. I don’t want to know.” Vanessa tossed the wet towel in the hamper and adjusted the tie that had slipped open on her robe. “So who went? No doubt your brother was there.”

“Yeah, Sean was there,” Liam lied. He couldn’t remember anything about the night before. What had happened? How had he ended up in that tub?

“Who else?”

“A few guys from the station. You don’t know them.”

Vanessa walked to the doorway. “You’re a forensic scientist for the Philadelphia Police Department. Don’t you think you should be acting more responsibly?”

“It was one night.”

“You blacked out, Liam. That’s what high school kids do when they steal liquor from their parents’ cabinet and can’t control themselves.”

“I’m sorry.”

Vanessa’s face tightened just slightly. She paused for a moment and then spun away from him. “Get dressed, and I’ll put the coffee on. You’re going to be late.”

Liam watched her leave. His breathing was starting to steady, and in the solace of the bathroom, he tried to think back and replay his night out. He couldn’t recall anything. Not one detail of one moment. How long had it been since he’d gotten that drunk? The tub groaned and wheezed as the water continued draining.

“And clean up your boots,” Vanessa called from the hall. “You left them at the bottom of the stairs. Almost killed me when I came down this morning.”

“Okay.”

Liam got up from the toilet and made his way to the bedroom. His cell phone was sitting on his nightstand, and he grabbed it, touching his thumb to the reader as the phone came to life. Perhaps he could retrace his steps through calls or texts.

“Coffee’s on!”

“I’ll be down in a minute!”

There were no new texts past four o’clock the day before, the last one being from his brother asking if he wanted in on hockey tickets. Now that he read the text, he could recall being asked about the tickets, but everything since that point was fuzzy. He flipped to his phone records and saw a voice mail that had come in at eight o’clock. It was grayed out, meaning he’d already listened to it, but he couldn’t remember the call or the message. He played it again.

“Hey, it’s me. I got your text, but I don’t see you. Where are you? Call me.”

Liam recognized the voice immediately. It was Kerri. She’d called about a text he’d sent her. Again he checked his sent texts and couldn’t find anything. He also looked in his trash folder, but there was nothing there either. He walked back through the bedroom, peeked out into the hall, then shut the door. When he was alone, he dialed her number and waited.

“Hey, you’ve reached me, and if you know who ‘me’ is, leave a message, and I’ll—”

He hung up and tossed the phone back on the nightstand. In the serenity of the bedroom, Liam could hear the birds singing outside the window. A sign of a new day. A fresh start. That was what kept him and Vanessa going. One day, then another, and still another after that. Their marriage was a work in progress.