Page 20 of The Cabin
“Tess, come on. You know this is on him.”
“Damn right it’s on him. But it makes you wonder—what’s wrong with me, you know?”
“Can I just say fuck him for telling you via email?” My voice goes shrill with rage. “Fucking email? What a pussy.”
She glares at me. “No, don’t you dare denigrate the sacred pussy that way. Pussies are strong. Powerful. Mysterious, sexy. We have babies with our pussies. He’s a limp cock—funny-looking and dangly and useless.”
I nod. “Truth, babe, truth.”
“He’s a limp dick,” she repeats. “Good riddance.” Another shot. “I’m not sad. I’m angry. But I also think I knew. His business trips suddenly went from a couple days to a week max to a week, two weeks, and from one every couple months to at least one a month. I think half that time has been actual business, and the rest is vacation and dicking his assistant or whoever this bitch is.”
“I’m sorry, Tess. You deserve better.”
She huffs, squaring her shoulders. “I’m not going to wallow. I’m signing his stupid papers, taking my maiden name back, and going on the warpath.”
“Warpath?”
“Against men.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning I started dating Clint in high school. I went to college to be near him. Chose a job that would enable his career. Worked from home to take care of Yvette.” Their daughter, now eighteen and going to college—Tess is a few years older than me, and they had Yvette young. She pours a shot but this one she hands to me. “I know, I know, you have to work tomorrow. Just do a couple shots with me, Nads. Please.”
“Fine.” I take the shot, coughing and hissing. “But only for you, because I love you and this sucks. God I hate tequila.”
“It’s the glorious juice of forgetting.”
“It’s the glorious juice of getting arrested for reckless behavior, public intoxication, and public urination.”
She flips me off. “That was one time, bitch, one time.”
“What’s the warpath, though? Because I’m not following.”
“I’m gonna sow my wild oats, Nads. Yvette comes home for major holidays at most, and now I’m single again, so I’m gonna go out and get all cougar on Hotlanta.”
“No one here calls it that.”
“I know. I was being funny.”
“Well. Use a condom and take Ubers. Last thing you need is a DUI and an unexpected pregnancy.”
She waves a hand. “Psshh. I’m perimenopausal already, so that’s not an issue. Uber is magical, though.”
“You’re only just barely over forty.” I frown. “And I don’t think being perimenopausal means you’re no longer fertile. You have to be through it all the way.”
“I’m forty-two, and my mom was menopausal by forty-five. And I’ll be careful.” She points at me with her spoon. “You’re next, so pay attention.”
“Am not. I’m thirty-nine, so I’m a baby compared to you. I’ve got years to go, still.” I hate my next words even as they emerge. “Fat lot of good they’ll do me.”
She pours me another shot—it tastes funny, with the residue of the wine mixed in. “Nothing, still?”
I shake my head. “Nope. I’m fertile Myrtle, according to tests, but he’s not.”
“Shooting blanks?”
I nod. “Seems that way.”
“What about—”
“Tried it, twice. Didn’t take. Haven’t had the courage to try again.” I twist my wedding band. “Plus, he’s…I don’t know.”
She slowly sets the bottle down. “He’s what?”
“Lying about something. Or, hiding something, rather.”
“How do you know?”
“He told me.”
She laughs in disbelief. “He told you he’s hiding something?”
“Yeah.”
“But not what?”
I shake my head, tears stinging my eyes, words now clogged in my throat.
“He’s not cheating is he?” She sounds like she finds that as hard to believe as I do.
“No.” It’s barely a word, more of a hissed sound.
She huffs. “Yeah, I can’t believe that of Adrian. No man has ever loved a woman the way Adrian loves you.” A shake of her head. “So that being true, what could he be hiding?”
I shake my head and shrug, fighting sobs. “I…” One escapes, a low ragged one. “I’m scared, Tess. Really, really scared.”
“Like, you think he’s sick or something? And trying to hide it to protect you or some macho bullshit like that?”
I nod. “He’s losing weight. I think he’s secretly throwing up. I think his research trips aren’t all…just research.”
“Why hide it? I don’t understand.”
I wipe my face with both hands, rub vigorously. “Because he knows me. He knows I would full Amazon on his ass. Take care of him, baby him. I’d quit my job to nurse him. I’d sell my fucking soul for him, and he knows it.” I now take a shot for me. “My dad died young, you know that. When I was six. He died slow, and I…it’s why I went into nursing. To take care of people, the way I did Dad.”
“Nadia, Jesus. You were six.”
“Some things you don’t forget,” I say. “So Adrian…he thinks he’s protecting me from him, from myself.”
