Changing Course (35 page)

Not a single day passes that I don't spend the night with Brett, well that is if you don't count Thursdays. Caleb has reassured me on more than one occasion that Brett isn't with Sarah. He says they meet up and go drinking at the bar for a few hours. It still burns when Brett disappears though.

Every other night, Brett comes to my apartment, or Daisy and I go to his. For someone who claims to be a dog person, he sure does love that cat. I don't have to bring her every time I go to his place, but he usually insists. He once gave me the silent treatment when I showed up alone.

We still don't talk about Sarah. I know what you are thinking. How can you not talk about the crazy, hot blonde elephant in the room? Well, it's easy. Denial is a hell of a tool. I just pretend like she doesn't exist. I know doing that doesn't help us move forward. It also means I don't have to face the fact that my boyfriend, who I'm in love with but who doesn't reciprocate, is married to another woman. Maybe I'm the crazy one not her, or at least that is what I thought until Sarah came prancing back into my life.

It was Wednesday afternoon and I was doing Brett's grocery shopping. He gave up on me making the list a few weeks ago, and just started giving me his credit card so I could do the shopping myself. At first I was a little uncomfortable spending his money, but the third time he brought home cottage cheese instead of cream cheese I snatched his card and walked out.

Today was a very adventurous trip to the store. I'm focused on the row of spices, trying to figure out the lowest price on garlic powder when someone plows into me.

"Shit! I'm so sorry. I wasn't paying attention. Jesse?" I see a woman with black hair who I vaguely recognize.

"Ummm...yes," I respond questioningly. I should know this woman, but I can't seem to place her face.

"Sarah Sharp, remember?" she says, filling in the blank and making my skin curl.

"Oh, um...hey," I say, turning back to the shelf, hoping she'll walk away.

"Do you live around here?"

"Yeah, just down the street," I clip in her direction.

"Hey, while you're here let me ask you a question. I'm making Brett a big anniversary dinner tomorrow, and I was wondering if you know a good side dish to go with the steaks I'm making?" Seriously, I must be confused, there is no way Sarah is standing here asking me for recipes.

"Um...what?"

"Brett loves my cooking, but tomorrow is our anniversary so I want to do something special. You know, spice things up a little." She laughs a hollow sound that sends chills down my spine.

"Um, baked potatoes?" I mumble then push my cart forward trying unsuccessfully to get away from her.

"Jesse, I think we got off on the wrong foot. Let's start over." She sounds sincere making me pause only long enough to see the sarcastic smile on her face.

Last time I came face to face with her, she ran the show. She pushed my buttons and tortured me with information about her and Brett. I've tried to forget about her, but you can't pretend someone doesn't exist when they are coldly mocking you in the middle of a grocery store. I'm not going to let her pull this crap again.

"Sarah, I have no recipes to share with you, nor do I have any desire to kiss and make up. You can make whatever the heck you want to tomorrow, but just know that at the end of the night he will be in my bed."

Was it dirty to say that to her? Heck yes! Did it feel better than winning the lottery? Heck yes! Did it hurt like crazy when she slapped me across the face? Hell yes!

"You fucking whore! You think Brett cares about you? Well guess what bitch...he loves me. He always has and always will. The difference between me and you is I have him and you never will."

"Right." I try to walk away, my face still stinging, but apparently Sarah wasn't finished yet. She yanks my arm digging her fingernails into my flesh and snatches me around to once again face her.

"Stay the fuck away from my husband," she says, finding the chink in my armor.
My husband.

As bad as her words hurt, I know this is a worthless conversation. Sarah isn't just damaged, she's destroyed. I'm not arguing with a sane woman. She's delusional and manipulative. No verbal sparring is going to win this argument. This time I don't cower though. I'm done with that. We both know Brett is mine. Heck, everyone but Brett knows that. This conversation is about her.

"Sarah Erickson," I purposely use her maiden name. Yeah, that fancy new laptop Brett got me may have googled her. "I am going to pretend you didn't just put your hands me. I am going to pretend you didn't just call me a bitch. Hell, I'm even willing to forget you followed me here today." This little chance meeting is too much of a coincidence for her not to have followed me. I don't have time to really let that sink in though. "I'm not, however, willing to let go of the fact that you think this is somehow a competition between the two of us. Sarah, you need help. You need to talk to a counselor, and you need to visit Manda and once and for all let go of your guilt."

This time I see it coming. She slings a closed fist at my face but I duck, causing her to knock down a spice display. I keep talking because she needs to hear this. I'm probably not the right person to tell her, but she definitely needs to hear it.

"You need to take care of yourself Sarah. You may not know it, but people love you. I know bad things have happened to you, but for Christ sake... just let someone in. You are not alone in this. There may have only been one funeral, but four people died in that car. You're not alone." I repeat the last sentence for good measure.

As I walk away I fully expect to be pegged in the back of the head with canned vegetables. Surprisingly, it never happens. I leave the cart filled with groceries and walk directly to my car. As the adrenalin rush wears out, I begin to shake. I want to call to Brett, but I know this whole situation will only cause him more heartache. I remember words from months earlier.

If you see her again, you call me immediately. Not Brett. You call me.

I pick up the phone and dial Caleb instead. "Where are you?" I say as soon as he picks up the phone.

"Where are you, baby girl?" he responds flirtatiously.

"I just ran into Sarah at the grocery store."

"Fuck! Where are you, seriously?" he says, scarily concerned.

"Harps on St. Charles."

"Drive across the street and wait for me. Do not go home under any circumstances, got it?"

"Okay."

"Stay on the phone. I'm about five minutes away."

"Caleb, I'm okay. Really. I think she just-"

"What did she say, sweetheart?" His voice returns to the gentle softness I've become familiar with.

"Um...." Crap, he is going to be pissed when I tell him she slapped me. Maybe I can just leave that part out. When I look in the rear view mirror and see my swollen cheek and a small trickle of blood on the corner of my lip I know it's a lost cause. "She said a bunch of stuff but the gist of if all was for me to stay away from Brett."

"Are you okay?" He's asking about my emotional state. It's the obvious question after the last time I had the pleasure of talking to Sarah. However, tonight it has a much more superficial answer.

"Um..."

"Fuck!" he screams at my non-answer. "What did she do?"

"Calm down, I'm fine. She slapped me and it busted my lip."

I honestly think I can hear his head explode over the phone. "She did what?" he booms across the line.

"Stop, really. I'm okay. I'm just a little shaken up that’s all."

"Grab your purse, I'm almost there. Park your car. You're coming with me."

"Okay," I say, relieved at the idea of not being alone.

Caleb doesn't say anything else, nor does he hang up. When he parks next to me, he doesn't even give me a chance to get out of car. He snatches open my door and drags me out, using my chin to examine my face.

"Stop, I'm fine." I try to bat his hands away but he crushes me against his chest. These macho men really treat me like a rag doll sometimes. He doesn't say another word until we pull up in front of a small brick house in a family neighborhood.

"Come on, I need to call Brett.”

"No! You can't call him. He'll be so mad."

"Well it's about damn time he got mad, don't you think? He treats her like a china doll. Sarah went too far this time. He should be pissed. Maybe this will cause him to finally get off his ass and do something about her bullshit.”

"Caleb, please don't call him," I begin to beg. Things have been so great with Brett and me recently. The last thing I want is him diving back into the guilt-filled pit of Sarah.

"Sweetheart. I'm calling him. A man deserves to know when his woman has been assaulted. How exactly do you think you're going to explain that welt on your face to him?" Dang it! He's right. Crap, Brett's going to lose his ever-loving mind about this.

"I'll call him," I sigh.

"Nope, wrong again, baby girl. If you tell him about this over the phone there is no guarantee he will actually make it over here to pick you up. I don't want to leave you alone, but I have things to do."

"What are you going to do, Caleb?" I ask, scared by the look in his eye.

"Nothing you need to worry about."

"She a broken, disturbed, and insane
woman
." I feel the need to remind him.

"Jesus Jess, I'm not going to hurt her. What the fuck kind of asshole do you think I am? I'm just going to have a little conversation with her, and make sure it actually sinks into that crazy ass brain of hers," he says, putting his phone to his ear. "Sharp, get your ass over to my house. Jesse's here. Warning, you're going to be pissed." I hear Brett shout on the other end of the phone, but Caleb hits the end button.

"Well, that was a little dramatic, don't you think?"

"Probably, but it will get him here faster. Whatever bullshit he is making up in his head right now will probably be worse than what really happened. It should soften the blow for him."

"That's horrible and mean...but also brilliant!" I say, walking up to his front door. "Can we please go in now, I'm freezing."

I sit inside Caleb's surprisingly clean and well decorated house waiting for Brett. It only takes him about five minutes to get there, but I feel bad knowing he's worrying the whole way. He doesn't bother knocking when he gets there. He storms in searching for me.

"Jesse!"

"I'm in here," I cautiously yell from the couch.

"What's going on?"

I've been planning the way I was going to gently and reassuringly tell Brett about today's drama. I wanted him to know that everything was fine. We just needed to sit down and talk about the next step in trying to help Sarah. I wasn't quick enough though because Caleb rushes out the not so gentle facts.

"Sarah stalked Jesse down at the grocery store today. Yelling at her to stay away from you, then hit her before riding off on the crazy train again. Now, are you going to man the fuck up and finally do something about this?" Well, okay then. I guess that's one way to break it to him.

"Jesus, are you okay?" Brett's eyes glide over me.

"I'm fine. It really wasn't as bad as it sounds."

"Why didn't you call me?"

"Umm, I didn't want to upset you." It's a statement, but my voice rises at the end, making it sound more like a question.

"You didn't want to upset me? What the fuck, Jesse. You called Caleb instead of me?"

"I just thought..."

"You just thought what? That maybe I wouldn't want to know that my ex-wife hit you?" I expected Brett to be mad, I just never expected him to be mad at me. It's shocking and confusing, but mainly it's infuriating.

"Yes, because me calling Caleb is the big issue here, not the fact that your
wife
," I purposely leave off the ex-part. It makes my blood boil that they are still married. I'm not letting him brush it under the rug either, "followed me to the grocery store, telling me that you were hers, and asking for recipes to cook for your anniversary dinner tomorrow. Obviously, I'm focusing on completely the wrong part." I push up my sleeve revealing the hidden bruises where Sarah grabbed my arm. "I'm sorry, I thought these were somehow the important part."

"What the fuck? You didn't tell me about those!" Caleb yells and Brett sucks in a deep breath. They must look pretty bad because the rage on both men’s faces is unmistakable.

Whatever. I don't care anymore.

"Brett, I want to go home. Then you two can handle this whole Sarah thing on your own. It's obvious I don't need to be involved." I grab my purse and head to the door, not waiting to see if Brett follows.

We ride to my house in silence. Brett walks me to my door and kisses me on the head. He leaves without a single word spoken. We may not be speaking, but I didn't want him to leave. I'm not willing to put my pride aside and stop him though. He ticked me off with his reaction. This was not at all the way that conversation was supposed to go, but they seldom go as planned for us.

I
DECIDE
to call it a night. Grabbing a beer and a book, I head to the bath tub. I'll feel better after a long soak, and some smutty romance. Two hours and an empty hot water heater later, I crawl into bed. I'd be lying if I said my mind didn't drift to the day as I stared at the ceiling. Sarah doesn't scare me. She just needs help. I'm in no position to give that to her. Maybe I'll break my personal denial rule, and talk to Brett about getting her the help she so desperately needs.