The Middle of Somewhere(46)

Liz’s relationship with Mike developed in the same insidious, incremental way that her marriage to Gabriel drifted away from her expectations. At the time, she did not see the two as related, because her husband had lost interest in her (if that is what happened) long before she felt anything more than friendship for Mike. In retrospect, however, it might have been muddier. The scenes she could play in her mind, but the feelings were harder to recall, submerged as they were under a sea of shame and guilt, then sunk to the bottom like a wreck after Gabriel died.

Trenton and Baxter ate lunch at their computers. Trenton played video games and Baxter caught up on Facebook and Twitter. Liz was glad Mike enjoyed eating outside because she had too much time alone at home. They talked about nothing of consequence: sports (Mike was into professional tennis and NASCAR), nonpolitical news, science and a little office politics. She knew he was married with no kids and he knew the same about her, but it was irrelevant because they were only having lunch. Occasionally, people from other lab groups would join them. Few women worked at Extensor, and Liz never clicked with any of them.

Before long, lunches with Mike became the social focus of her day. When she went home, she’d have twenty minutes at dinner with Gabriel—much of it spent discussing household business—then would be on her own until bedtime. Mike wasn’t exciting, and she wasn’t attracted to him, but she came to depend on him to verify an essential truth: she was a human being someone could talk to comfortably.

She hadn’t given up on her marriage, and continued to try to get through to Gabriel. She suggested outings, even midweek, but he turned most of them down, citing the need to make progress with what he had come to call “his real job”—the video game work. When she finally asked him point blank if he was dissatisfied with her, he said he couldn’t understand why she would ask. Of course he wasn’t. One night, a year or so after she’d begun working at Extensor, she had too much to drink and cried her eyes out in front of Gabriel, pleading with him to love her the way he used to, “to see her.”

He handed her a Kleenex and squeezed her shoulder. “You wanted a normal life, Liz, right? Well, this is it.”

In the morning as he left for work, he said she was drinking too much and might think about seeing her doctor about it. She called in sick and spent the day rereading the first Harry Potter.

What she was not able to foresee was that only so many lunches could be shared by two people unhappy in their marriages before one of them let their guard down. Neither Liz nor Mike knew their guard was up until he let his down. It could have as easily been her. She was telling him about a hike she had taken in the Sandias the day before while Gabriel was reading the paper (although she left out that part).

Mike put down his turkey sandwich—the lunch he had every day—and regarded her seriously. “You know, I’d have enjoyed hiking there with you.”

She didn’t have to answer. His guard had dropped a little, so hers did, too. She was picturing them hiking together and he could tell that she was because he smiled a little, and so did she. Their guard dropped another notch. Nothing had happened, and nothing would for a long time—not even a hike. But if Liz had to put her finger on it, she’d say that was the moment she began her affair with Mike.

If that was the beginning, it lasted fifteen months. They had sex twice. Once to get over the inevitable and once because they were sad. The sex wasn’t great but it didn’t matter. What did matter was how Liz came to feel when she was with him—not like a lover or mistress or soul mate, but a whole person. She was acceptable, and visible.

Gabriel had, in the beginning, made her feel special, and adored. She’d been suspicious of those feelings because they were novel and unexpected. But she went along with it and was swept up in his conviction. Too good to be true turned out to be exactly that.

Her relationship with Mike wasn’t too good to be anything. She couldn’t even speculate whether it was ultimately better than the normal life Gabriel was selling. How could she know while they were both married to other people?

Mike said once maybe people came into your life just to show you the way through.

“Like a guiding spirit?” she said.

“Yeah, exactly. Only flesh and blood.”

“Of course. So it hurts.”

The night Liz told Gabriel about Mike the air conditioner was running full blast but the house was still baking hot. The air temperature had been building all week, a slow fire feeding on the heat stored in the cement and stucco and asphalt of Albuquerque from one night to the next.