I get a call from my cousin Derek. We had a chance to catch up at our Allen family reunion this past weekend, and he got to meet Anthony. Derek lives about thirty minutes away in Cayden. I was happy to hear from him.
I was hoping he was calling to take me up on my offer for lunch sometime, but that's not at all why he called. Derek asked how we were all doing and asked if Anthony was home. I told him no, he was at work until four. Derek followed with,
"Good, there is something I need to tell you. I don't want to hurt you, Rye. I know you are in a fragile state. I have debated calling since the reunion. He pauses.
I ask, "What is it, Derek?"
He continues, "Last Friday night, I was at a buddy's house hanging out.
Around 1:30 a.m., this guy shows up and has a few beers with us. I had never met him, but my buddy knew the guy. The guy was there to pick up Jessica, my buddy's cousin from Florida that just moved here. We were just drinking beer and shooting the shit. This Jessica girl came out from the bathroom, gave the guy a kiss, asked if he was ready, and they left."
I don't know why Derek is telling me this, but my heart is pounding with anxiety. Finally, I sat down at the kitchen table. Derek continues, "Rye" he pauses, and after a deep breath, "That guy was Anthony."
My world stops; All I can say is, "Are you sure?"
"Yeah, Rye, the same guy you were with at the reunion, I'm sorry."
I thank Derek and hang up the phone. It's back instantly, that pain, that aching pain in my hands, I rub one with the other, but it won't stop.
I think to myself, Last Friday? Last Friday? My heart sinks. The stormy night, the night I got up and fixed him food and coffee and got him a poncho. Last Friday, the night I was so worried and begged him not to go when he got the call to "come into work." How could he do this?! I feel sick. My head is spinning. I don't know what to do. I'm so mad. I want to hit him, hurt him, but I know I have to stay as calm as possible for the baby's sake. I don't do too well with that.
I go to our bed and lay down and try to calm down. In an instant, in one phone call, everything has changed.
My family's future, my heart, my trust, my world. My hands ache so bad. I clasp them together, pull them to my heart and lay there, and cry. Now I will be a single mother with two kids, just like my Momma was. I'm starting to see how she got there.
I take the phone from the nightstand and call Sonya, "Sonya," I say sobbing, "Rye, what is it? What's wrong?"
I reply through uncontrollable tears, It's Anthony; he's cheating."
Sonya replies, "Rye are you sure? There's no way, Anthony loves you so much, are you sure?"
I explain to Sonya the phone call from Derek, then ask if I can pack some of mine and Jordy's things and stay with her until I figure out what to do. I don't want to call Momma or Daddy and go back home yet again. I call Nick's mom and tell her I will be a little late picking up Jordy. I go to Jordy's room; my heart breaks as I am packing her little pink plaid suitcase; I have packed her things so many times going back and forth between Nick and Momma's, now this. She deserves so much better than this. I never wanted her to feel unrooted, unsettled, as I did.
I wipe my eyes and grab my suitcase from my closet. I start throwing things in as fast as I can. I want to get out of here before Anthony gets home.
I hear Anthony's truck pull in as I'm packing, then the front door shut. I feel my face getting hot and my chest burning. I continue throwing clothes in my suitcase that's on the bed, with my back to the bedroom door. Anthony peeks his head around the door, "How's my favorite girl?" Any other time those words would land him a kiss and a hug, this time, they land him a bloody nose. Anthony grabs his nose, blood pouring out,
YOU ARE READING
WHEN THINGS GO SOUTH
General FictionRaised by southern Pentecostal grandparents, the journey of her Momma, whose Farah Fawcett-type beauty landed her seven husbands, and her seventies playboy Daddy, who has been married five times, proves to cause confusion for the heart of a small-to...