“Yeah, yeah, I know.” I say quickly, hoping to cut her off. But she has a point. I did receive the Black Cloud Award four years running when I worked in the ER. Fortunately the elevator arrives on the third floor and I am able to make my escape.
When I enter the ICU, the nurse on duty recognizes me and waves me into Room Two. I tiptoe in, thinking David might be sleeping, but he’s sitting up in bed wide-awake, eating his lunch, though dissecting it might be a better term.
“Hi, David.”
“Mattie! Good to see you. You’re just in time to run out and get me some real food to eat.”
“It doesn’t look that bad,” I tell him, eyeing the food on his plate. “Better stick with what the doctor ordered.”
“Are you kidding me?” He pries the top slice of bread off his sandwich with his fork. “I mean, what is this stuff? The nurse said it’s chicken salad but I swear there’s stuff in here I removed from people in the OR. And then there’s this crap.” He moves his fork over and stabs it into a green square of gelatin on a side dish. When he lets go, the fork remains upright. “You know, we tried to nuke this stuff once and it wouldn’t melt. That’s not a good thing.”
“Other than the food, how are you doing?”
He pushes the tray away in disgust. “I’m fine. They tell me I have you to thank for making it out alive.”
“No big deal.”
“That’s not the way I heard it. So thank you.” He smiles at me and there’s a hint of the old David I once knew and loved in the glimmer I see in his eye. “I’ve always known you still care for me.”
The way he says this makes me wince. “I would have done the same for anyone,” I counter.
“They said the house is a total loss,” he says, ignoring my comment. “I can’t believe how much we’ve lost. And now I have nowhere to stay.” He stares at me long and hard, clearly waiting for me to offer up a suggestion.
“One of the hotels in town should do for now.”
“I was thinking more along the lines of staying with you.”
Over my dead body. Then I remember Molinaro’s shit magnet comment in the elevator and take it back, thinking I might be tempting the gods a bit too much. “The cottage isn’t big enough for two people,” I argue. “Hell, it’s barely big enough for me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he says. “There’s plenty of room.”
“There’s only one bedroom,” I say pointedly. I give him a look that dares him to suggest we share not just an abode, but a bed.
“I’ll sleep on the couch,” he counters. “And it’s only a temporary arrangement, until I can get the house rebuilt. It’s the perfect opportunity for us, Mattie. It will give us the chance we need to work on our marriage.”
I roll my eyes at him and sigh heavily. “David, how many times do I have to tell you that I’m not interested in working on our marriage? You and I are done. Finished. I’m moving on.”
He throws himself back against his pillow and pouts like a child. “You are such an unforgiving bitch,” he hisses. “This is about that cop Hurley, isn’t it?”
“No, it’s about you and your inability to keep your pecker in your pants. And speaking of Hurley, what the hell gives you the right to ask him to back off?”
“Ha!” He shoots forward and points a finger at me. “See? If it wasn’t about him, he wouldn’t need to back off, would he?”
“There is nothing going on between me and Hurley,” I seethe. “And even if there was, it’s none of your damned business anymore, David. You lost the right to have a say in my life when you decided to bed someone else.”
His expression turns smug and he folds his arms over his chest, leaning back again. “Say what you want, but I’m not giving up, Mattie. I love you and I want you back. I want us back.”
“You should have thought of that before you went humping around like a dog in heat,” I say, borrowing a page from Hoover’s playbook.
“Object all you want but I know better. And I’m not going to sign any divorce papers. Sooner or later you’ll come to your senses.”
I figure two can play this game of hardball, so I cross my arms over my chest and fire back. “Well, if I recall correctly, David, that house that burned down is in both of our names. So until you come to your senses, I won’t be signing off on any insurance checks.”
His eyes grow wide with disbelief. “You’d really be that cruel?” he says.
“Damn right.”
“You are a bitch.”
“With a capital B.”
The nurse pops into the room, effectively shutting both of us up. “Is everything okay in here?” she asks. “His heart rate and blood pressure are through the roof right now.”
“He’ll be fine,” I tell the nurse. “Besides, he’s too stubborn to die.” I turn and glare at David. “I’m glad you’re feeling better. See ya around.”
I turn and storm from his room, fuming over his insistent denial. But he manages to get the last word in.
“Yes, you will,” he yells after me. “I’ll see you at your mother’s for Thanksgiving dinner.”
Chapter 26
I drive by the cottage to drop Hoover off and to change into some sweats and a T-shirt. At this point I’m glad I let Richmond talk me into going to the gym with him. After dealing with David, I have a ton of pent-up energy to let loose.
I dig the charger Hurley gave me for the throwaway phone out of my purse, plug it in, and put the phone on it. Then, since I have about fifteen minutes to spare, I hobble out to the woods to look for my other phone. The stink of burned everything is still hanging in the air and the smell gives me an instant throbbing headache. As I get closer to the site, I can see just how devastating the fire actually was. The entire front of the house is burned down to the foundation. At the rear, the kitchen—or what’s left of it—is fully exposed, though a good portion of the back wall is still standing. Most of the stairs I climbed last night are gone. Only the top four remain, hanging in midair, a giant pile of burned rubble beneath them. Everything is covered in water, ash, and soot—a soggy, blackened mess.
I thought I’d made my peace with the loss of the house when I moved out, and I truly didn’t think the fire would make that loss any worse. Now I’m not so sure.
A ruined, blackened hull is all that is left of what I’ve come to think of as the years BC—Before Cheating. I’ve been trying to think of the years AD—After David—as a new beginning, but seeing the total destruction of the house this way makes everything seem so utterly, irrevocably final.
I feel wetness on my cheek and for a second I think it has started to rain. Then I realize I’m crying. I swipe at the tears, turn my back on the house, and try to focus on the task at hand. After several minutes of scouring the grounds beneath the trees, I finally find my cell phone. Remarkably it is still intact, though it’s as dead as the throwaway phone. Praying that the battery is the reason, I carry it back to the house and put it on its charger. The tiny yellow light that comes on cheers me to a surprising degree. Maybe there is some hope left after all.
When I arrive at the health club, which is called Slim’s Gym, I see a guy behind the door who looks like a giant muscle on steroids. There is a look of horror on his face and at first I think it’s because of how out of shape I am. But that makes no sense because I remember seeing Richmond’s car in the lot and surely I can’t be viewed as any more of a challenge than he is. Can I? Or have I been totally deluding myself?