The Unexpected List (The List Trilogy) (31 page)

Megan chimes in with,
“Wait, what?”
  And then snaps, “You don’t actually think she slept with Kurt, do you?”

Ignoring her, Slutty Co-worker attacks my problem like she’s on freakin’ Law & Order. 

“How does your huha feel?  Like…is it sore or anything?”

Megan, who’s uncharacteristically unsupportive of my latest Chrissygan, has apparently had enough of my love drama and abruptly leaves my office.  I look at Slutty like she’s the reason for her departure.

“Okay…one, you’ve offended the poor girl and, two…YOU’VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME WITH THAT QUESTION!”

“No actually, I’m not!  Do a couple of squats right now...you’ll know if something was in that thing last night.”

“I’ve been taking yoga classes from you for the last two years!  Of course my huha is sore!  IT’S ALWAYS SORE!”

“Take a deep breath and think real hard, hunny.  Was there any…you know… gunk in your trunks this morning?  You know…something sort of crunchy.”

“Are you literally asking me if I woke up with a
crunchy huha
?”

“Well, you’re the one who needs to know for sure!”

“No, psycho!  What I need to know is if you think Leo will forgive me!”

“That depends on what you’re expecting him to forgive.”

Throwing my head in my hands in total disgust, I whimper, “So you think I might’ve actually slept with Kurt.”

“How much did you drink?”

“A lot.”

“How long since you’ve had sex?”

“A long time.”

“And what was Kurt telling you before he kissed you?”

“Everything I wanted to hear.”

“Where did you wake up this morning?”

“In his bed.”

“And what were you wearing?”

“Almost nothing.”

“Hate to say it, but it’s not looking so good in sex court.”

I’m scared that she might be right and getting Leo to forgive me for merely being inside of Kurt’s house, let alone the fact that I slept in his bed, is about as likely as my dear old slutty friend abstaining from sex for the rest of her life.

After a long sigh and a discouraging head shake, Slutty Co-worker then walks up behind me and starts to massage my shoulders.

“Hate to say it, doll, but what you’ve got here is a full blown relationship crisis and we all know relationships aren’t my expertise.  I think there’s only one person who can talk you through this mess.”

And I think she’s right.  I leave the studio and head back to my cottage where I find that my dream car has already been taken away.  I guess while I was trying to call Leo, he was busy on the phone with the dealership.  I rip the notice off of my front door instructing me to call Peninsula Porsche if I have seventy-five thousand dollars to buy it back, drop my purse on the ground and head right to the phone.  No need to look up the phone number, it’s tattooed on my brain.  It rings five times before the familiar voice prompts me to leave a message.

“It’s me.  Everything has fallen apart again.  Leo’s back in New York, but unlike before, this time I’ve done something so unforgivable that I don’t think he’s ever coming back.  I also don’t think there’s anything you can do to change the situation.  I just need some advice and…a friend to talk to.”

After hanging up, I walk uneasily toward the dirty clothes I had on this morning.  With my eyes closed I reach down and pick-up the underwear.  Tensely cracking open one eye, I search for some kind of reassurance that I’m not as horrible of a person as I’m beginning to think I am.

Following (adjective) fol*low*ing:

Coming after in time or sequence

I don't wanna see, I don't wanna see anything

I don't wanna be, I don't wanna be lost again

I don't wanna walk, I don't wanna walk far from you

I just wanna live, wanna live just like you do

(Grace, Saving Jane)

Big Gaping Hole

September 11, 2002

Today has been a day of many, many unexpected surprises and it started with my rude awakening from that dream I had with Kelly when I stood up to flag down the waiter at Chili’s and my pregnant belly bashed into the table causing our drinks to spill everywhere.

Sure, Kelly’s been showing up in my sleep a lot over the last year and she’s been making a lot of jokes that a baby was on my horizon.  But, I have never in my life experienced being that pregnant and it felt so freakishly real. I woke clutching my stomach in panic thinking for sure something was growing in there.  What I experienced in my sleep…well, it’s just a whole new element of weirdness that I can’t make any sense out of.

What bothered me most about the dream is that it painted a painfully realistic picture of what my life would’ve been like had I never sat down next to Leo at Buckley’s that January night in 1998. There’s no doubt in my mind that had I never met him, I wouldn’t have realized how truly, madly and deeply miserable I was as Mrs. Gibbons.  There’s no doubt in my mind that I would’ve ultimately ended up pregnant with Kurt’s baby and eating at a Chili’s with my best friend as we planned a lame camping trip, while my obliviously adventurous husband was off at some stupid pilot training course in Nevada. 
I most likely would’ve stuck with my life list.

My day of unexpected surprises continued after the dream, on my drive into the studio.  I wasn’t prepared to see so many American flag-waving patriots paying tribute to the anniversary of 9/11, and I wasn’t prepared for the emotional response it set off inside me.  I felt overwhelming sadness for the victims of the tragedy, and for the first time since waking in Kurt’s bed, I felt no sadness for myself.  How could anyone who’s alive and who has the potential to live a good life ever feel sorry for themselves when remembering 9/11?  But, when the flag-waving patriots became a blurred image in my rearview mirror, the image of waking in Kurt’s bed catapulted to the forefront of my mind, causing me to hate those Muslim extremists more than ever.  Had 9/11 never happened, Leo never would’ve left to help Taddeo.  He never would’ve left me…leaving open that small window of opportunity for Kurt to creep back into my life and wreck it.

When I got to the studio, the girls tried their best to make me feel better about my wrecked life.  Well, most of them.  Something is definitely up with Megan since the fiasco at Kurt’s house, and she’s been unusually quiet about what may or may not have happened in his bed.  But the other two gals…they showered me with support.  Barbara, even going so far to say what might’ve happened that night wasn’t entirely my fault.  I love her for it, but she knows just as well as I do that my latest Chrissygan was a bombshell that only I’m responsible for.  Yep, getting drunk at Kurt’s house pretty much ruined my life.

Hitting up the cemetery today might not have been the best idea since it was already such an emotional one with all of the 9/11 business, but freaking Nicole and her crazy doctor schedule gave me no other choice.  As usual, I enjoyed my fake conversation with Kelly, but it gave me no insight into the dream I had about being pregnant and no hope that I’d ever get Leo back.  What were her exact imaginary words again?  Oh yeah,
“Getting him back might be just as difficult as getting me back.”
  Great.

I didn’t have the courage to admit my latest Chrissygan to Courtney and Nicole.  Until I get some answers, it’s best to keep them in the dark…where I still remain myself.  I guess the upside about going to the cemetery is that I got to put a beer on Craig’s tombstone and see him and Kelly close together.  As gross as it sounds, it brought me a little peace.

The unexpected surprises continued at my last stop of the day--Kurt’s house.  It was the first time I saw him since that wretched night a little over two weeks ago.  Oddly enough, despite how weird Megan’s been, she offered to pick-up Kendall the Sunday after it happened and deliver her back to him on Friday, so I could have a few more days to cool off.  But, unfortunately Megan had to go to New York for work, and I was forced to face him at pick-up today.

For the life of me, I can’t figure out why was he so damn nice to me when I went there.  I mean, I basically threatened him with his life when I stormed out of his house that morning.  But there he was with his million dollar smile, open...
willing almost
to talk about what happened.  But I have no desire to rehash the bad choices I made that led to the big gaping hole in my heart, and I’m more than happy to leave the question of “Did I sleep with Kurt?” unanswered for the rest of my life.  There’s no point in knowing, other than to hate myself even more, if the answer is what I fear.  So this evening I left Kurt’s house in another blaze of anger.

Once back at the cottage, it looked like things had tapered off into the boring and predictable with Kendall’s corn dog dinner and bubble bath, but then the most unexpected thing of the day happened when I tucked her into bed.

In the nine months since I’ve had guardianship of Kendall, I’ve never heard her refer to her mother as being dead. In fact, unless I bring Kelly up, she hardly ever comes up.  So, it really threw me when during our game of eye spy with my little eye, she said, “Cuz I’m spyin’ somedin’ dat’s dead.”  As she looked at her mother’s picture.

 Taking the framed photo off of the nightstand, I sit beside Kendall to have the talk I’ve been dreading.

“You know who this is, right?”

“Yes.”

“Do you wanna talk about your mommy?”

“I don’t know her, do I?”

“I guess you really don’t, huh?”

Almost shamefully, she shakes her head.

Wrapping my arm around her delicate little shoulders, “Would you like me to tell you some stories about your mommy?”

“Can’t you just…be my mommy?”

I just remembered there was something very important I failed to cover in my sessions with Dr. Vikki.  THIS!

Looking over at Kelly’s picture, I silently tell her how very sorry I am for what I’m about to say.

“Sweetheart...I…I can be your mommy.  If that’s what you want.”

With a single tear streaming down her cheek, she whispers, “I just wanna be like my fwends.”

Knowing it’s all Kelly wants for her too, I spring into action.

“Then, you know what, Sweetheart?  We can make it happen, right now!” 

Reaching across her bed, I grab the magic wand that she was playing with earlier.  “Here!  All you have to do is wave that thing, cast a spell, and I’ll officially be your mommy.  I mean…if that’s what you want.”

“Looking at Kelly’s picture, “But, will she be mad at me?”

“No way!  Your mommy in the picture was my best friend in the whole wide world and she trusted me to give you all of the love and attention you deserve.  That’s why you’re my…you’re my…”

“Ki-Ki, why are you crying?”

“Oh, they’re happy tears, Kendall.  You see, I’ve
always
wanted a daughter.” 

And given the recent course of events in my life, you’ll no doubt be the only one I’ll ever have.

“Then, it’s magical, Ki-Ki!”

“How’s that?”

“Because
I’ve
always wanted a Mommy!”

Wiping the tears off of my face, I jump up on the bed and announce, “Well, what are we waiting for then?  Wave that wand and let’s make it official!”

Hopping out of her blankets and now standing on the bed, Kendall starts waving the wand around my head.

“Hocus pocus, swammi Tommy, make Ki-Ki my…MOMMY!”

After she thumps me on the head with the wand, we stare at each other with wide eyes.

“Do you feel any different?”

Her eyes are darting around the room searching for some kind of new feeling.

“Nope.  Do you?”

“Nope and you know why?”

“Why?”

Poking her in the tummy, “Because I’ve already been your mommy for a really long time!  And now, like all good mommies are supposed to do, it’s time for me to tuck you into bed!”

After stuffing her under the covers like a burrito, Kendall excitedly asks, “When do I start calling you Mommy?”

Kissing her forehead, “That’s up to you, sweetheart.”

Just as the door to the bedroom is about to close, she blurts out, “Will Weo be my daddy when he comes back or should I wave my wand at Ku-Ku?”

Oh, Christ.

“Well…I…I think we have some time to figure that out.”

“Can I have two?”

“Lots of kids have two dads.  The only rule I have as your…mommy…”  Her giggle tells me how much she enjoyed that, “…is when the time comes to pick one...or two, we get to decide together.  Sound good?”

“Soopa doopa good!”

“Sweet dreams, hunny.”

“I’m gonna dweam about snipes and my brand new backyard!  What are you gonna dweam about?”

Relieved that I already turned out the light so she can’t see my sullen face, I speak softly. “Most likely the exact same thing.”

“Ki-Ki?”

“Yes, Kendall?”

“How many more days until Weo gets home?”

“Soon, sweetie…soon.”

After closing the door to the bedroom, I stagger to the kitchen sink to splash cold water on my face, hoping it’ll magically wash away the mistake I made.  A mistake that looks like it’s about to prevent Kendall from getting everything she deserves.  But, minutes later, as I quietly sip my tea, nothing magical happens, there’s only bitter acceptance that I royally screwed everything up.

Now, resting my body against the very countertop that Leo placed me on a few years ago, I let out a deep sigh and think about how good it is that Kendall has two million bucks in the bank.  She’s going to need it to buy herself a nice house with a big backyard, because I sure as hell can’t afford to keep the one I bought for her now that I’m…alone.

Done

September, 2002