I am HER... (15 page)

 
In the store, I run for the ATM.  $500.00 daily machine maximum, but it’s a different bank.  How many banks are there in the Chicago area? 
Whatever.
  I'm up $1,400 plus my rainy day $450.  Just a few more stops and I should be good.

                                 ==========

  Across this street, there's another store with an ATM.  Ha!  'Exceeds daily limit'.
Shit!
  The same bank as the mom and pop store.  Oh well.  Maybe I should get some food. 
  Argh... My phone is ringing again.  Marcus?  No- my parents. 
Jesus
... My
parents?
  I am NOT answering that one.  The endless ringing is so annoying.  Okay.  Vibrate.  There!  Now I can ignore the ringing and experience a little vibrating pleasure... Ha! 
Gross.
 
  Shopping I grab; Chips x 2.  Chocolate bar x 6... (For my sanity, of course!)  Is there a cart around here?  Yes!  Found one.  Water x 12.  Whole wheat bread.  Chocolate chip Muffins-a 6 pack.  Some gum.  A big bottle of Pepsi.  Oh, licorice!  I haven't had that in years.  Yogurt...
EW,
why?  Ice-cream… Yum.  Oh, no freezer in the car.  Damn. Okay, at least one ice-cream sandwich for the drive.  Yum, again.  What else?  Go by aisle.
  I grab some turkey slices, followed by mustard and a few apples to balance out the chocolate bars.  Jar of salsa.  Jar of nacho Cheese.  Bag of tortilla chips.  Apple jacks cereal.  A small carton of milk.  Cheese slices for my turkey.  Ummm, I think that's it.  Oh, a bottle of cheap Zinfandel.  Why not?
  At the counter I start unloading my stuff.  The cashier is obviously looking at me like I'm crazy.  What do I say?  Think.
  "Our kitchen flooded so badly, we lost all our food.  So my husband and I have to eat in the car..."

 
What The
FUCK
Was
that
??  ‘
Eat in the car?!’
  I sound totally INSANE!!  And kind of manic, actually.  Calm down.  Don't cause a scene.  No response from the cashier... Good.  Scan.  Scan.  Scan.  There’s an angry guy behind me huffing and shifting back and forth on his feet.
  "Ah, sorry" I mutter to him.  Why is he looking at me strangely? 
Honestly?
  Can't a woman buy up a damn store?  What's HIS problem?
  "That'll be $69.26 please."
69?
  Like the sexual position Marcus wanted to try one time only… 69? 
Seriously?
  Giggle.
  "No problem.  I'll pay debit."

 
Vibrate.  I jump. 
Honest to god
... Even
vibrate
makes me jump.  What’s up with that?  Who are you...? Ah, Marcus.  Nope.  We're
still
not talking, honey. 
Jeez...
Leave me alone.
  In the car, I'm trying to remember a bank branch nearby.  Oh, Main street,
naturally.
  Okay, I’ll just make one more stop, than I'm done.

 
Finding the branch on Main Street is easy, and I can't believe it actually has a drive-thru machine.  Thank god!  I was scared to get out of my car tonight.  I’m feeling a little creeped-out or something. $500.00 max. again.  Okay $1,900, plus $450, plus a full tank of gas, plus enough food to service a nuclear take down.  Where do I go now?
  Suddenly my phone vibrates.  Jump!  I have
got
to stop DOING that!  It's Marcus, again.  Still no,
honey
.  GAG. I'm not giving in.  I'm not answering, listening, or swallowing, everything he says is wrong with me.  Not tonight.  I just can't do it.  I'm awesome right now.  I'm strong and determined.  I'm back in control.  I'm not letting Marcus weaken me.
  Ignoring my phone, I drive a little more downtown.  Maybe I should drive to Evanston.  I know there are decent hotels on the way; hotels less like the Marriott, but still better than a motel.  I've passed them every time Marcus makes me visit my parents in Lake Forest.
  Pulling up to a Super8 downtown, I finally exhale.  Inside, a perfectly delightful hotel manager informs me that I cannot pay in cash without a credit card.  What? 
Why?
  IT’S CASH!  That makes no sense.  Sadly, I’m then versed on hotel policy, starting with credit card security, and ending with
secured
credit cards.  What do I do?  I can't use my credit card.  Marcus will find me.
  Okay.  Think. 
Think!
  I have no one to ask.  I have no one to call.  I
knew
it was going to come down to this. 
I KNEW IT!
 

  Dialing, I am absolutely mortified.
  "Sweetheart, where are you?!"
  "Ah, that's the problem.  I'm where I need to be tonight, but they won't take just cash.  I have lots of money Z,
in cash
.  I'm NOT asking you for money.  I swear!  But, ah, could you please call the hotel and give them your credit card information- JUST for security purposes,
I swear!
  I'm not using your credit card, and I'm not going to trash the room, but..."
  "Which hotel?"
  "The Super 8 on Sheridan Road.”
  "Give me 10 minutes, and they’ll escort you to your room.  Do you have any luggage?"  Luggage?  Giggle.  Yes.  I have luggage, but the real problem is all the food I just bought.  I can’t help another little laugh.

 
"Stop, Sweetheart.  You’re doing very well.  In 10 minutes, I want you to bring your luggage into the foyer and wait to be escorted to your room.  Okay?"
  "Yes.  Okay.  Thank you.  But PLEASE don’t pay for my room, or anything.  I WANT to do this on my own.  If I wasn't afraid of Marcus and my parents tracking my credit cards, I would have used my own, and never asked you for a thing... I just didn't know what else to do.  I have no one else
to
call."  Ooops... That sounded bad.  "Ah, what I mean is..."
  "Don't worry.  It's fine.  I know you're struggling right now, so I’ll excuse the occasional 'poor choice of words' on your part." He actually sounds like h
e’
s smiling at me.  Is he?
  "Thank you... I'll call you back soon," I whisper. 

 
My room is very nice. It’s much nicer than I expected, and much nicer than I had hoped for. Ther
e’
s even a small mini-fridge under the counter with a freezer.  Damn.  I could've bought the ice cream.  Oh well.  My
big thighs and butt
will thank me later.  Stop!  Not now.  Torture yourself later.
  Walking back to my car, a nice, male attendant soon follows and offers to help me with my purchases.  Did Z tell them to help me?  Probably.  What took us one trip with 8 bags, would have taken me at least 2 or 3 trips.  Thank you nice attendant man.  Thank you, Z.
 

                                 ==========

  Finally, I'm here.  After putting my groceries aside in the fridge and on the counter as best as I can, I pull my luggage to the dressers and unpack all my clothes and shoes.  All I have is black.  Lots and lots of black.
  In the bathroom, I finally see my face.  What is
WITH
this mascara? 
Shit!
  I look like a raccoon.  This is so embarrassing.  No wonder the store clerk, the impatient man in line behind me and the hotel staff thought I was demented.  I look weird.

 
I'm wearing a beautiful Movado watch and Vera Wang heels.  I have a stunning 1 carat diamond pendant and matching earrings.  I also have a large 2 carat diamond solitaire ring on my hand, but I look like a crazy person, recently released on her week-end pass from the asylum.  
  Once my toiletries are lined up neatly, I scrub my face, brush my teeth... And exhale again.  Why do I always hold my breath?  I don't think I ever did that before.  Why now?

 
Entering the room again, I know I should call Z.  Taking a big breath while dialing, I mentally prepare for his intensity, as I crawl into the bed.
  "Hello, Sweetheart.  All settled in?"
  "Yes.  Thank you again.  I promise I'm not going to use your credit card.  I have enough money to stay for weeks, if I need it."  Huh.  Do they offer weekly discounts?  I should ask.
  "I wouldn't care if you did."
  "But I would.  I don't want to take anything from you. I don't expect anything, I promise.  I just needed..."
  "I know what you need, love, and I am more than happy to provide it." 
What?
  Gulp.  Why does he sound so
seductive
all of a sudden?  It's his tone, I think.
  "Um.  I really should go now ‘cause it’s after 3am.  It's been a very, very long day for me, and I'm exhausted.  I'm very sorry I kept you awake this late."
  "Would you like some company?  I'm only offering to
be
there, nothing more."  Yes! 
Yes, I would.
  "No... but thank you.  I hope I'm not offending you, but I really need to just sleep now.  I am beyond exhausted, stressed out, and feeling a little weak from all this,"  I sigh.
  "
Weak?
  Yes, I could see how
weakness
would stress you out.  No worries.  Please call me when you wake though.  I would like to know how you are after a good night’s rest."
  "Okay.  I'll call you.  Thank you again, Z, for ah... being,
ah...
there for me."  God that sounded pathetic, even to me.
  "You’re very welcome, Sweetheart.  I'm glad I could, ah... be,
ah...
there for you."  God, he has a lovely voice, and he's smiling at me.  I can actually hear his smile in his voice. 
  Smiling myself, I whisper, "Good night, Z."
  "Sweet dreams, Sweetheart."   

                                    CHAPTER 8
  At 9:47, I finally wake up.  I've only slept 6 hours, but I feel fairly rested.  What now? Start small and just eat breakfast.  Oh, I bought muffins last night.  Good.  I haven't had a muffin in forever. Marcus always sai
d‘
muffins are for fat woman who don't care that they are eating
empty calories
and gluing it to their asses'.  Yeah, well...
This
woman is eating a chocolate chip muffin, maybe even two.
   I'm stalling.  By 10:09, I'm officially bored.  What do I do now?  Normally, on Saturday mornings, Marcus and I have a nice breakfast, and drive to the Market Place 4 blocks away from our home.  We HAVE TO buy fruit and vegetables from the Market Place because Marcus believes strongly in buying produce from local sources, to aid the local economy AND because local fruits and vegetables are macro-biotic, therefore better for you.

 
I have heard this same lecture almost every Saturday, for 6 years of marriage, and it never changes... except of course, during the winter months.  During the winter, it’s perfectly acceptable to buy fruit and vegetables in the massive grocery store around the corner from our house, where it's nice and warm.  God, he is SUCH an ass!
   By 10:30, I'm still stalling.  I wish I remembered my filthy, pornographic novel.  Oh, no!  Marcus might find it if he enters my sunroom.  How embarrassing!  Would he tell my parents about it?  Oh, probably.  Just another example he can use to show the world that I am the problem, not dear, sweet, secure, stable, reliable, innocent... Marcus. 
Gag.
  Maybe I can go to a bookstore today.  I'll just visit the Erotica section and I'll pay in cash so no one knows what I've purchased.  Where is a bookstore around here?  Probably in a perfectly obvious strip-mall nearby.  I won't walk downtown, I'll drive instead, just in case.  Good. 
  And stalling some more...

 
By 11:25 my bed is made and I'm showered.  My hair is dried and styled in a nice chignon.  My clothes are perfectly acceptable, and black.  My make-up is done.  I look totally together, and sane.  Stop stalling. 
OK!
   Dialing Z, I'm holding my breath again... That I know I'm holding my breath doesn't actually
stop me
from holding my breath though.
  "Good morning, Sweetheart.  Did you sleep well?"
  "Yes.  It's very nice here.  I wanted to thank you again for helping me last night.  I..."
  Cutting me off, Z says, "How about you say 'thank you' once more and say 'I'm sorry Z' twice."  Ahhhh...
What?
  "I beg your pardon?"
  "You heard me.  I want you to say 'thank you, Z' and 'I'm sorry Z, very sorry' right now.  Say it."  What the HELL is he talking about?
  "I don't understand..."
  "I
WANT
you to say 'Thank you, Z' and 'I'm sorry, Z... very sorry'!" 
  "Okay.  Thank you and I'm sorry, very sorry."  Why am I doing this?
  "Ooops.  You forgot the
'Z'.
" 
What?
  "I'm sorry, but I don't know what you want."  This is getting kind of annoying.
  "You're an intelligent woman, love.  Repeat these words.  'Thank you, Z' and then 'I'm sorry, Z, I'm very sorry'.  It's really not that difficult, Sweetheart.  Please try again."  What does he think I am?  A
moron?