- A Small Crime
Smiling, she heard him talk in his sleep. He’d always done that and although it sometimes made her crazy, she loved this particular trait. She’d already accepted the fact she wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight and had decided she’d spent the night watching him sleep, listening to the mumbled mass of words she couldn’t understand and she doubted he could either. She wondered what he was dreaming about and hoped it was a good dream. He deserved good dreams when reality was nothing but nightmares.
Sighing, she thought about how she had attributed to those nightmares. Tomorrow she would tell him about that, tomorrow she would destroy his world. But hadn’t she destroyed his world more than a year ago? Was keeping it a secret her way of protecting him, or herself? Were all those times she’d left him in misery not a part of their marriage destruction, simply because he did not know about it? Was it better to leave him in the dark, than to tell him the truth? She didn’t know for sure how he would react to the news, but she knew it was not going to be pretty.
He’d be disappointed, that was for sure. He was no stranger to cheating. He’d told her numerous times how his former girlfriends had all run off with another guy at one point and she’d sworn to him and herself that she would never be that type of girl. He’d laughed, saying she didn’t have to tell him that, cause he already knew. But when times had gotten hard, she’d done it anyway, and she knew that he would never be able to blame her as much as she blamed herself.
He’d feel betrayed, of course. She felt a bitter stab of self-hate when she thought about how she promised that she’d be there for him in sickness and in health more than fifteen years ago. She’d had nothing to fear back then. They’d been happy, they’d been happy for so long that of course something was bound to go wrong, because something always was. It had started with Baylee getting sick when he was just five or six. But that had been different. She’d been able to lean on Brian back then. She hadn’t lost herself the way she had now. Maybe that was the problem. Maybe she just needed someone to lean on, and because she couldn’t lean on Brian this time, she’d gone to Larry. Could that be it? And maybe, because of Brian’s refusal to lean on anyone but himself, their marriage had drifted apart? Or was she just placing blame elsewhere now?
He’d stopped talking, and continued to sleep peacefully. She sighed, grateful that at least someone was able to sleep. Normally, nights weren’t all that peaceful after a chemo, but Brian had been asleep ever since Nick had left his room. Leighanne wouldn’t admit it, but secretly, she was glad Nick was still there. She knew he’d wanted to leave after the party, but he’d decided to stay when he’d heard her story. So he’d kissed his fiancée goodbye, who he’d doubtless told everything, and remained in the guest room, lurking, waiting for things to go wrong. And things would go wrong, they both knew that. And when they did, Leighanne was sure Nick would be the only one to keep this crumbling family sane. At least she hoped so. One day, when everything had gotten back to normal again, she’d have to thank him for that. One day…
“Hmmmn, no.”
She looked up, surprised. Smiling, she saw that her husband was still sleeping. He’d finally tossed his head her way and softly, she traced the outline of his face. Normally, he’d be awake by now, normally he’d wake up if she’d only do so much as turn in bed. She knew, cause each of her movements were always followed by an irritated sigh on his part as he was the lightest sleeper she’d ever met. Not today, today there wasn’t even a flinch of acknowledgement as she gently touched his sunken face, that had once been handsome and full of life, but now only held the sickly complexion of a dying man. Dying…, she swallowed thickly at that thought and willed herself to push the taunting images away, reminding herself that there might be an outcome now, a little light of joy on the horizon. If she could only believe in that, truly, with the blind faith she’d possessed up until two years ago.
What’s the last time you’ve prayed?
I don’t know.
“You can’t only have faith when the good things happen, Leighanne, you have to have it when they don’t.”
That’s what her mother had told her once and she had nodded, cause, yes, she believed her, but didn’t think it would ever be applicable to her. Having faith, something you could put your trust in no matter what, was all so much fun when it didn’t involve begging for a cure, for a solution that would never come, no matter how hard you prayed for it. So she had stopped praying, discouraged, feeling like nobody wanted to listen to her misery, that no one even cared about what she was feeling.
She couldn’t stop the tears from gliding down her cheeks but forced herself to remain calm. Brian didn’t need to wake up and wonder why she was crying. If this really was their last normal night together, she did not want it to be socially awkward. She took an unsteady, shaking breath when her fingers moved across the sensitive skin on a spot just above his ear. The spot that had been sliced open more than a year ago, when all of this stuff should have been over. But the skin had been broken for nothing and Brian would have to wear the ugly and useless scar for the rest of his life. Life…
The night continued, while he slept, blissfully unaware of anything, and she cried for all those things she would lose or had already lost. She was startled out of her night’s musings when he began to stir and she realized it was already morning. In a swift motion, she brushed the already dried up tears out of her eyes and smiled sweetly at him. It took him a while to properly focus on her, but when he did, she sighed in relief, glad he hadn’t been blinded permanently.
“Hey,” she said awkwardly, wondering if he had noticed her tears.
He studied her for several moments before answering, “Hey… you look tired,” he concluded with a frown.
“I didn’t sleep very well,” she admitted softly, “How about you?”
“Perfect,” he drawled, still staring suspiciously at her face, “Are you alright?”
Taking a deep breath, she smiled and hurriedly climbed out of bed. “Me? Yes, of course!” she claimed as if she couldn’t understand he was even asking. “Hold on, I’ll make you some breakfast.”
He looked at her in surprise and grinned broadly, “Breakfast in bed!” he exclaimed, “It’s not even my birthday!”
She narrowed her eyes and looked him over, “Are you sure about that?” she questioned mysteriously.
A deep frown appeared on his face and he shot her a terrified look, then relaxed when he realized she was joking, “Funny,” he commented, “Just so you know, I’m laughing on the inside.”
“Do you want eggs with that?”
“Yes, and cheese, lots of cheese,” he ordered, “Jeez, I’m hungry.”
“Good to hear. I’ll be right back,” she promised.
“I’ll be waiting.”
When she entered the kitchen, she almost collided with her son, who gave her one of his ever present angry glares and stalked off.
“Baylee Littrell, get back here,” she commanded.
“Screw you,” he offered and she shook her head disbelievingly. When had it ever gotten this far? It was high time she put an end to it. She walked after him into the kitchen and placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Don’t touch me!” he warned with a growl, jerking away from her touch.
“Baylee, look at me,” she ordered and he glared at her, shooting daggers in her direction with his eyes, “I don’t know what to do with you,” she admitted with a sigh.
“Well, I don’t know what to do with you either,” came the clever reply.
“Listen, I don’t know if this is puberty, or something else, but you really need to work on your attitude in this house.”
“Me?” he screamed, unbelieving. “What about you!”
“Alright, I think I understand why you are mad at me, but I will not tolerate this behaviour any longer,” she warned, but could tell that he wasn’t listening to a word she was saying.
“You had no right!” he hissed, “No right to do that to Dad!” Tears of helpless anger were forming in his eyes and he took a step back, grabbing the lunch package he’d prepared. “Are you done now, cause I’ve gotta go to school.”
She nodded absentmindedly and picked up her car keys from the counter, “I’ll bring you.”
“No! I don’t want you to bring me. Nick’ll do it, he promised.” His mother frowned, but nodded, wondering since when Baylee and Nick had become such good friends. She guessed it must have been somewhere between the Backstreet Boy killing the kid’s dog and presenting him a new one, that, for some reason still didn’t have a name.
She was still wondering about this when she walked the stairs to the bedroom with a tray of all kinds of breakfast food in her hands. Brian was still in bed, uselessly flipping through the TV channels, grunting disapprovingly ever so often when he came across a show he disliked more than the others. When Leighanne entered the room, he looked up though, and grinned, obviously enjoying the fact that she had actually made him breakfast. Hungrily, he grabbed one of the bread slices, quickly put a significant amount of cheese on it, took a big bite and finally closed his eyes, clearly satisfied.
“This is great,” he mumbled, his voice muffled through all the cheese and bread in his mouth, “Thanks a bunch, babe.”
She lingered awkwardly next to the bed, not willing to climb in with him, but he didn’t seem to notice, his attention solely focused on the sports channel he’d finally been able to find. She watched it with him for a few minutes, trying to sort her thoughts about what she was going to say, how she would break the news, just like she’d done the entire night before. She knew instinctively that this was the right moment, the moment wouldn’t get any more right than this. Nick and Baylee would be gone for a while. The school wasn’t as close as it had been to their old house, but, out of precautions, they’d been forced to move further north when Brian had left the Backstreet Boys, unannounced. In fear of lurking fans all over the place with questions they didn’t want to answer, they’d left it all behind, the beautiful big mansion, the flourishing garden and above all, the build-in studio. Sure, this house was beautiful too, even bigger, and the garden was brighter than the old one, but it was the lack of a studio which made it appear like a much colder place. It seemed like Brian had symbolically closed one of the biggest chapters in his life by moving all of the golden, platinum and even diamond records to the attic and every other thing that even remotely resembled music and that he’d once been proud of. Maybe it was his way of dealing with things, by putting them away in a dusty old attic and never thinking about them again.
“Brian?” she uttered, trying to grasp his attention away from the baseball on morning television.
“Hmm?” he commented, obviously only half paying attention. Here goes nothing.
“Remember when you said we had to talk yesterday?” she questioned shakily.
“Vaguely,” he mumbled around his third sandwich of that morning.
“Well, we do have to talk,” she explained, trying to keep the fear out of her voice, “there’s something I have to tell you, something important.”
She noticed she had finally caught his full attention when he had the decency to turn the TV off and stared up at her, expectantly.
“Remember when, when…” she swallowed nervously, “when I left yesterday, when you told me to stay?”
He nodded wordlessly and quickly put the sandwich down with a disgusted expression on his face. He was probably already sensing that it wasn’t going to be a nice conversation. He kept staring at her, his eyes forcing her to continue..
“Well, I haven’t been entirely honest with you…” she began.
“Leave me out of the waste, this is not what I do,
It’s the wrong kind of place to be cheating on you.”
“I’m so sorry, I was just so lost, I didn’t know what to do!”
“It’s the wrong time, but he’s pulling me through
It’s a small crime, and I’ve got no excuse.”
“I’m so sorry, I wish there was something I could do to make this alright!”
“Is that alright with you? I give my gun away when it’s loaded.
Is that alright with you? If you don’t shoot it, how am I supposed to hold it?”
“You have to understand that I never, not once, stopped loving you! Please Brian, can you understand that?”
“Is that alright? Is that alright? Is that alright with you? No…”
When she was finally done talking, when she’d finally blurted all out at once, she watched him intently, searching his face for some kind of reaction, while preparing herself for any kind of reaction he could possibly give. She was horrified to see a small, uncertain smile touch his lips. This isn’t funny, not in the least!
“Is this a joke?” he asked, his voice salty, “Did Nick set you up to this? Is that why you two are being so mysterious all of a sudden? Cause, forget it, I’m not buying it. You’re the worst liar in the world.”
“W-What?” she stammered, astonished.
“Is this a joke? You’re doing a poor job, cause it’s not even a little funny,” Brian rattled mindlessly, “This can’t be real. You didn’t cheat on me…. Because, because…,” he seemed at a loss for words, frantically trying to find a suitable reason for the situation he found himself in, a satisfying explanation for the sick joke his wife and Nick were playing on him.
“Brian…” she tried to interrupt.
“Because you are my wife…,” he continued, his voice laced with panic now, “and… and… I… I trust you…”
She tried to look away from his piercing stare, demanding an explanation, begging her to tell him she was indeed just joking, that he had her permission to get back at Nick big time for this. Yes, yes, she wanted to tell him that. She wanted nothing more than to laugh it off and pretend like it never happened, but deep down she felt tired of lying, of hiding. She looked into his anxious face and felt the tears spilling over her cheeks, knowing that she’d probably be crying for the remainder of the day. Finally she shook her head slowly.
“It’s not a joke Brian, I’m so sorry.”
She’d been prepared for the shouting. The anger. The hurt. The betrayal. Even for the hate. She expected those reactions, they were only natural. She hadn’t been prepared for the deafening silence that seemed to last forever as Brian stared expressionlessly into her face, looking like he was carved out of stone. But she could see he was thinking all the words he wanted to say, she could see he just wasn’t able to express them, and judging by the venom evident in his gaze, they weren’t pretty. She also knew that if she’d utter one more single word, he’d explode into a million different pieces and she would have destroyed the man she loved with all her heart.
