Part 4
I SHALL BELIEVE
Come to me now
Lay your hands over me
Even if it's a lie
Say it will be alright
And I will believe
-Sheryl Crow-
It's been two weeks since I've talked to Michael. Not that I ever talked to him
regularly apart from our little trysts.
I don't even know if he's coming tonight. I left a message, though, on his
voicemail. I told him if he doesn't show up tonight, I won't bother him again.
I don't know what I want. Just to talk to him, I guess, and see his face.
I've called him like five times an hour the past few days. Hopefully he hasn't
discovered caller ID and the great benefits it could have to his phone-avoiding
habit. He might not appreciate how desperate I'm being considered I'm the one
who screwed things up. Or else Max or Isabel will notice my cell number and
wonder what's so important I needed to call Michael so incessantly. That's just
perfect. Then Liz will find out and being her nosy self, will call my house. But
I'm not home so Scott will get the message and be worried and then he'll come
find me here in the hotel. Maybe with Michael. Then my marriage will definitely
be over…
I let myself fall back onto the bed and bang my head a few times for effect. I'm
going insane, I think. What is wrong with me?
The sad part is, me being here is only making things a million times worse. Why
I'm chasing after Michael, I have no idea. I should be chasing after my husband.
I told myself I was going to create a life for my child which should not entail
more secret meetings with my lover.
And poor Scott. He's unbelievably ticked at me right now, for good reason.
I waited a week after I told Michael until I told Scott. One would think a wife
telling her husband she's pregnant would be a joyous event. And, it was, at
first. I managed to pull myself out of the depression Michael had sent me into
and finally be happy about the baby. Scott's been wanting me to get pregnant for
a while now. I kept telling him I wasn’t ready. Maybe it's just because having a
baby with Scott will make things permanent, make things real. For so long I've
been living between two worlds.
So, I came home from work and plastered a smile on my face, ready to face what
was to be the rest of my life. Sad thing is, I had to make a mental list of why
I could do this for the rest of my life. I have a good job. Scott will be a
wonderful father. He loves me. He would never leave me, not like Michael did the
week before.
Scott was so happy. He got a little angry when he figured out I had kept it to
myself for a week, but when I explained I was just trying to digest it, he
seemed to understand. Things didn't get much better from there. I refuse to tell
my mom and Jim and all my friends yet, I don't think I can deal with all their
excitement. Scott was pretty hurt when I told him not to tell anyone. I played
the Isabel card, though. After telling him about her miscarriage, sans the alien
aspect, he accepted my reluctance to let everyone know just yet.
Then, last night, I overheard him talking on the phone to his sister. About me…
"Jenny, I just don't know…something's up with her. You were bouncing off the
walls when you found out you were pregnant." Scott is talking quietly into the
phone in the kitchen. I just woke up from one of my many naps. I keep telling
myself it's the baby making me tired all the time, not the fact that my life is
in shambles. I sit on the steps which affords me a good view into our open
kitchen without my appearance being too obvious.
"I know. But Maria…she's sleeping and mopey all the time. She doesn't want to
tell anyone yet. I brought home a baby name book today and she just yelled at me
and stormed upstairs. What am I supposed to do?"
That stings, a little. I was kind of a jerk to him. After all, he's happy about
this.
"Maybe I'm being too insensitive. But, Jenny, sometimes I don't think she wants
this baby."
Now, that really hurts. I suddenly feel like the most horrible person on the
planet. A few tears escape down my cheeks.
"Jenny, I wonder if she even wants this marriage."
The sadness in Scott's voice cuts into my heart. I really am a monster. I love
Scott; he's such a wonderful man. Why can't I just forget about an unkempt,
volatile alien and enjoy my sweet, well-groomed human husband? The tears are
cascading down my face. I head off to the shower, hoping that will help me get
it together.
Unfortunately, though I tried to focus all my energy and love on Scott, my
thoughts kept drifting back to one Michael Guerin. I finally convinced myself to
at least allow myself tonight to say goodbye. I will move on now.
This morning, I played wonderful wife and made Scott breakfast and gave him a
passionate kiss before hitting the road. Too bad I was off to commit adultery.
Well, thankfully, or not, that won't be happening tonight. Michael is now an
hour late and probably will not be showing up. It's too late to drive home by
myself. Scott has court tomorrow so I know he's probably working late at the
office anyway.
I should probably get up and change into my pajamas and wash my face, but
somehow, I can't seem to move from the bed.
This room reminds me of my honeymoon.
All through my teenage years, I'd envisioned my honeymoon on some secluded
tropical beach with nothing save a quaint straw hut, with a shower of course,
and a week's supply of food. I imagined staying in bed, or on the beach, all day
and night and just sexin' it up. With Michael, that seemed like the perfect
vacation.
I told that fantasy to Scott. He booked us a suite at the most commercial hotel
in Honolulu. We spent our nights in the room like any newlyweds but our days
were spent touring botanical gardens and volcanoes. Not exactly the most
romantic retreat. But that's Scott for you. When I suggested skipping
sightseeing one day in favor of staying in bed or lounging on the beach, he
merely got this hurt look on his face like we were wasting our trip. It was
sweet, in a way.
But it wasn't my dream. Just like Scott isn't my dream guy.
Whoever said that dreams come true was sorely mistaken.
Sometime later, I drift off to sleep. I'm awakened when I feel a soft breath on
my neck. Michael.
"Michael, you came." The words are heavy on my tongue. Maybe I'm just dreaming.
"I shouldn't have." He kisses my neck gently and pulls me into his arms.
"Why aren't you him, Michael?" My brain is still sleepy so I speak without
thinking. I can feel my emotions bubbling to the surface and I don't quite know
how to react. Cry, laugh, yell, smile, or what.
Michael is taken aback for a moment but he seems to realize that I'm not in the
most stable state at the current time. "Maria…I can't give you what he can, you
know that."
"No. I want you. I love you." Tears are streaming down my face now and Michael's
so warm next to my cold body. His hands are rough but gentle as he wipes the
moisture from my cheeks.
"No, Maria. Don't say that." I think he's crying too.
"I can't do it, Michael. I tried these last two weeks. I don't want to be with
him." I scoot my body closer to Michael's and let my hands roam his sturdy
chest. Scott doesn't have a chest like Michael's. I love how strong and solid it
is. I can feel his heart pumping beneath my palm and I try to burn the sensation
into my brain so I'll always remember how alive my Michael is.
"You can, Maria. You have to. It'll all be okay." He wraps both arms around me
and holds me tightly against him. "You're going to have the life you deserve.
It's all going to work out."
"I don't want to lose you."
"I know. But we can't do this anymore."
We've never been a verbal pair before, professing our love left and right like
Max and Liz. So, on that heartbreaking note, we both throw our respective
vocabularies to the wind and get lost in each other. I try not to cry as we make
love. It's amazing how each of us tries to commit every little detail into our
memories. As if I could ever forget how I feel when I'm with Michael.
As we drift off to sleep in each other's arms, Michael whispers into my ear,
"It's all going to be okay, Maria. I know it will." I don't know why, but in
this moment I believe him.