Always the Last to Know(16)
No, John just gave me a look. Her one fun story from childhood. Here we go again.
And in the entire time I was faking it, hoping to make it, John never reciprocated. He didn’t bring me flowers. He didn’t suggest we do something, go somewhere. He just showed up, sometimes after I had to pitch it to him, to win him over to the idea of seeing a darn movie.
Exhausting.
Sex, which had become rote during the infertility years, became something I just didn’t want to bother with anymore. I knew I was supposed to care, but a person got tired of asking, don’t you know. A person can feel real bad for having to ask. John didn’t seem to notice. I stopped trying to do couple things. He didn’t seem to care. We stopped talking almost completely. It was better than forcing a meaningless conversation.
So when I got the call that he was probably dying, the grief came as a real shock. Not as big a shock as the adultery, but that came an hour or so later.
CHAPTER SIX
Barb
WORK: Babe, I miss U so much! Last week seems like a thousand years ago. I can’t stop thinking about how U make me feel. I have NEVER come that hard before. I swear I thought I was dying. U ARE EVERYTHING TO ME!
JOHN: SAME!!! You’re amazing. I’ve never felt this way. All I think of is you, you, you. Us together. God! I feel like a new man!
WORK: That thing U did with your tongue has me on FIRE just thinking about it.
JOHN: You deserve to be worshipped. Your body is incredible. God, I wish I had more “golf” weekends!!! LOL!
WORK: You can put your iron in my hole anytime.
OMG, I can’t believe I said that!
JOHN: Keep talking, sex kitten. You make me roar like a tiger!!!!
WORK: I want U. All the time, any time, every time. When can we meet again??? I’m dying for U.
JOHN: Soon. But never soon enough, my love!!!
WORK: The things I could do to U for an entire weekend . . . week . . . month . . . lifetime! My ? swells just thinking about it!!! Will we ever be that lucky?
JOHN: My heart is swelling too and not just my heart!!! LOL!!! We will make it happen!! I want to spend the rest of my life with you. You make me HAPPY.
WORK: I am so hot for U right now. If I saw U, I’d be all over you in SECONDS. I am so PROUD of U for taking your happiness into your own hands and not feeling guilty. LIFE IS TOO SHORT!
JOHN: IKR? I didn’t know what happiness WAS before this. I get hard just thinking about you! Have to go now. I want to do some cycling for our TRIATHLON together! I can’t even believe I’ll be doing this. I am a new man because of you!!! Miss you miss you miss you!!!
A series of emojis followed John’s last text. A red heart. A smiley face with heart eyes. A smiley face blowing a kiss. A purple heart. A smiley face with a tongue hanging out. Another red heart.
Then there was the abundance of exclamation points. The words in capital letters. The acronyms (I had had to look up IKR, which stood for “I know, right?”). The poor comma usage and use of the letter U instead of the onerous three-letter word. I might not have set the academic world on fire, but for Pete’s sake.
Clearly, John had been going through a second puberty.
“My God,” Caro said, handing the phone back. “I—I don’t know what to say, except let’s kill the bastard.” Her cheeks got red the way they always did when she was mad.
“Well,” I said. “The wife is always the last to know. Isn’t that what they say?”
It was two days after John’s accident. Caro stopped by after getting the message that John was in the hospital, and (unfortunately) still alive. The girls were at the hospital . . . Well, Sadie was. Hopefully Juliet was home right now, getting a little TLC from Oliver and the girls.
“Fuck him,” Caro said, throwing up her hands. “How dare he have a mistress! Fuck him, Barb!”
“Apparently, ‘WORK’”—I used air quotes—“is fucking him plenty.” It felt strange to curse. Kind of good, too. I’d read an article that said people who cursed were more honest. All those years of saying heck and gosh darn . . . they were over now.
“Are you okay?” Caro asked. “You seem so . . . calm.”
“Well, you know, he’s most likely dying.”
“I hope he does.” Caro covered her mouth with her hand. “Sorry.”
“I hope so, too.”
We were quiet a minute.
Thank God for Caro, a friend for so long, privy to just about all the issues and troubles and joys I had ever had. She was the only one who knew how hard it had been for me to get pregnant with Juliet. She was the one I called in shock when I found out about my pregnancy with Sadie. The one who’d consoled me when I dropped Juliet off at Harvard, so proud and devastated at the same time. Caro had been my campaign manager for my run for first selectman—Barb Frost for Stoningham: The Name You Trust.
Caro was also the only one who knew I had been planning to file for divorce.
“So let’s text her back,” Caro said, taking a sip of the bourbon she’d brought over, good friend that she was.
“You think so?”
“Yeah. Why not?”
The last few texts were, obviously, from WORK, since John had been too busy having a hole drilled in his head. There was some joke in there, but I wasn’t in the mood.