Chapter Twenty
Twenty
Hey, you’ve reached Tom. Sorry I missed your call. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. Thanks!
At the tone, please record your message. When you are finished recording, hang up or press pound for more options.
Hi, she says. It’s me. I…
Sorry.
I’m…I should have planned what I was going to say.
Okay. I’m just, I’m just going to talk.
She takes a deep breath. She will not fall apart right now. Though hearing his voice, his chipper message, that was tough.
Doesn’t matter. She will not fall apart.
So, I’m not upstate, she says. I’m in the city. I came back a day early, because…
Don’t fall apart!
She’s sitting on the floor, her back against the tub. It’s almost completely dark in the bathroom.
When you wake up, she says, you’re going to see there’s been a big fire in Midtown. A new skyscraper that…maybe it won’t even be here by then, maybe it…
She presses her fingers into her eyes. How is she supposed to do this?
Think about him.
Think about him having to listen to this.
I love you, Tom. And I am so sorry. This is not how…it is still so hard to believe this is happening! I never wanted to hurt you, but, boy, am I about to, and I am so, so sorry.
These words are useless. Useless!
But what’s the alternative?
I want you to know, what I’ve been doing? The fact that I’ve…the fact that I’ve been cheating on you, for a while, with, with the one person you specifically asked me not to…it never meant anything. It…
No. No more of that.
You know better now.
That’s not true, she says. It meant something. Means something. What I’m trying to say is it doesn’t mean I don’t love you. Because I do, Tommy! We…we had a sweet life, didn’t we? You made me happy, you really did. I love you. I said that already…I’m sorry, I’m trying to keep it together, but I…
Don’t let the boys listen to this, okay? I don’t want them to hear me scared. I’m not scared, I have been but right now I’m okay. I just…I mean, who has to do this, who has to leave a fricking voicemail before they…don’t let them hear it, okay? Ever? There’s the book, the audiobook part I recorded, they have that when they need to hear my voice.
Also, I wrote to my parents. An email. Dad doesn’t sleep so well anymore so I was afraid he might pick up if I called, and I couldn’t…take care of them too okay?
I’m sorry I’m crying, I can’t help it, but I’m okay. I reallyam.
I love you all so much. Tell my Ben and my Natey. My sweet boys.
Maybe we’ll get out of this. There’s still a chance. But it’s bad. The smoke is…there’s smoke in the room now. I don’t know…the lights have gone out, so we can’t see into the hall.
You’re a good man, Tommy. I know you don’t think so sometimes but you are. Take care of my boys. Take really really really really really really really good care of them, okay? Tell them I love them. I said that already, I know, I just…
Okay. I’m going to go. I have togo.
I’m going togo.
Maybe I’ll see you soon. I hope so. Or maybe…maybe later.
Maybe I’ll see you later.
I love you, Tom.
Bye, baby.
She ends the call, lowers her head between her knees and sobs.
Her tears drop down onto the soft bath mat.
She’s not ready for this.
She told him the truth. She’s not scared anymore.
But she is sad. So sad!
There’s so much more she wanted to do. And her boys! She’s fucked up their lives.
So she lets herself go for a while.
Eventually the tears slow, and her ragged breathing evens out. She is scoured and tranquil once more. She hauls herself up and finds the vanity, where she splashes her face with water from the full sink. All the towels are gone—she dries her face with a skimpy washcloth.
Her reflection in the mirror is pale, lit only by the dim light from the phone screen. It goes dark, and she taps it, checking the battery level. Nick needs the signal to send his emails.
Maybe I’ll see you, she said to Tom. Not a lie, though she knows she’s not going home. You’re never home, Tom said, just last week, and it pissed her off, but he was right. Right without knowing why. She’s been keeping some part of herself to herself, for herself, for a long time. She made a promise. She broke it, over and over again. She thought she’d have a chance to make it right.
But she won’t.
She splashes her face again. The cool water is delicious.
It is what it is, she tells her ghostly reflection.
What itis.
What it was.