Broken Trust

Allie Peters stood and looked wistfully at the spare bedroom. Once Samantha’s room, now tastefully outfitted in her mama’s furniture, a mahogany bed with matching dressers and nightstands, with the quilt her mother had always dressed it with carefully covering the bed, the walls painted a pale yellow now, a task made difficult by Sam’s insistence on painting her room in her preferred hot pink and black, two walls of each color.

She sat down on the bed, reminiscing about Sam and all the talks they had had or had tried to have, Sam being every bit as standoffish and private as herself and every thwarted conversation reminded her of her mama’s threat that one day she’d have one like her.

Allie got her phone out and took some pictures of the room, wondering what Sam’s response would be to the changed space, composed a simple text of “???” and attached the photos to the text.

Four years ago, her husband Scott had exuberantly talked about Julie, his assistant, in glowing terms. Allie had met the young girl at one of many of the work-based events she was expected to attend as Scott’s wife. And then suddenly, he stopped discussing her. Just like that, and Allie knew the sly looks the pretty brunette had been giving Scott during the next event meant something.

A mid-life crisis, she had thought at the time. She’d give it the chance to wear itself out. But it hadn’t. If anything, Scott’s nights working late had increased over the years.

She heard her phone notify her of a text. Either a client needing her to stage a house, outfitting it simply to make it look both spacious and inviting but not so much that potential buyers couldn’t see their own style in the house. Or Scott letting her know that he was “working late”, Allie understanding that likely meant drinks and sex with Julie. Or Sam, chewing her out for daring to change her room.

“I’ll bet you’re happy to have grandma’s furniture out of storage.”

“You and that black & hot pink paint. It took 4 coats of primer to cover the walls.”

“*laughing emoji* 

Allie smiled. “Suuuuure. Laugh away. YOU weren’t the one who had to paint it.”

That earned another few laughing emojis.

Two-thousand and eight had wiped them out. Their 401K gone in the blink of an eye. Sam had been an okay student, a smart girl, but not committed to the educational process, and the cost of her education, first community college then UC Santa Barbara, fell on her and Scott.

They could ill-afford to run two different households at this point and Allie wondered if she would leave him even if they could. Despite the Julie situation or perhaps because of it, he was still a good partner. Kind to her, an attentive lover, and they still sat up late debating and laughing together. She didn’t know if he loved his 36-year-old assistant, but she knew for sure that he still loved her.

Her only complaint was that they had settled into such a hard and fast routine that they never went out—her main jealousy of Julie, who, no doubt was still being wooed—wined, dined, and 69-ed.

Gone were the weekend hikes, the trips to Josua Tree to go camping, Scott complaining that it was no longer fun for him once Sam had established her teenage life with her teenage friends and had bowed out.

Another notification. She looked at her phone and nodded. Of course you’re working late. Of course you have to have drinks with clients. Of course of course of course, she thought sadly. “Have fun,” she texted back.

“None of this is fun.”

Good try. ‘I’m just a good worker bee doing what I have to do’. She laid down on the bed and remembered how her and her mama had laid in that same bed for hours at a time talking about life, sometimes fighting, sometimes making up for fighting. Whichever it was, Mama would stroke her long blonde hair or hold her hand while they laid there together. It had always comforted her, which is why she let her sisters have the expensive stuff and had only asked for the bedroom set when Mama died, which neither of the two wanted or had room for.

“I’m stupid, right Mama? I mean, I should confront him, let him know I know. I'm tired of being lied to," she said to the empty room. At one point, years ago, her mama would answer her, or her subconscious would fill in what she knew she would say but it no longer worked and there was no response. She allowed herself to drift off to sleep.

She was awakened with the words, “There you are.”

“How did it go?” she said sleepily.

“You know—business stuff. Come to bed.”

Her filter removed by sleep, she replied, “What? Julie wasn’t enough tonight?”

Scott sat down on the bed and was silent and she allowed the silence, allowed him to process the fact that she knew where he had been and what he had been doing. He finally issued a lame, “I’m not…you’re wrong…” in a very unconvincing tone of voice.

It was then that Allie made her mind up. THAT was the final lie. “You are. I’ve known for years now.”

Scott changed the subject. “I like what you did to the room. Sam’s going to blow a gasket, though.”

“She likes it. Do you love Julie?” she asked as she watched Scott’s face in the brightly lit room and took some joy from his habit of running his hand through his hair when he was nervous. She had placed him on his back feet, and he didn’t know how to proceed.

“How did you get the furniture from storage? I would have helped you.”

“Josue and I had to work together today, and he kindly agreed to help me move it in and set it up. Please don’t change the subject again. I asked you a question.”

He put his head in his hands and quietly said, “How did you find out?”

Allie sat up and laughed a little. “I might not have the same amount of estrogen that I had before menopause, but I am still female.”

At that, Scott issued a small laugh of his own.

“Please answer my question: do you love her?”

He nodded nearly imperceptibly. “I love you too,” he said quietly.

“And I love you. This all would be easier if I didn’t.”

“Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

Allie sighed. “I was hoping it was just a fling; just a mid-life crisis thing that would resolve on its own; that once the novelty wore off, it would end. I realized about a year ago that it was likely more than that.”

“And you didn’t say anything?”

“I was busy getting Sam situated. The bigger question is why did I have to say anything at all? I mean…” Allie started, pausing to find the right words, “I really thought that you had more respect for me than to outright lie to me over and over. That hurts more than you banging your assistant. Although, I have to say, it’s pretty cliché, isn’t it? I had you pegged differently—above the clichés.”

“It just happened.”

Allie laughed. “It’s funny how your penis just magically appeared and inserted itself into your beautiful, young assistant without your consent.”

“I mean,” he started defensively, “we were at that conference in San Jose. You were busy with Sam and work, and I was lonely. She had just separated from her husband and we found comfort in each other.”

Allie laughed again. “Between conferences, drinks after work, you not coming home until well after 9 three or four nights a week, you don’t get to tell me that you were lonely as if it’s a reason. You don’t think I get lonely? And not once has my vagina opened up on its own accord to accept someone else’s penis.”

When Scott stayed silent, Allie continued: “What do you want? I mean, if I said, ‘pick and pick now’ who would you pick? Me or Julie?” When Scott didn’t answer, Allie nodded and said, “It’s a hard choice, is it?”

Scott finally said, “It is.”

“Thanks for that,” Allie said with her head down.

“I didn’t mean…”

“I didn’t take it that way,” Allie interrupted. “I wasn’t being a smart-ass; I was being sincere. Thanks for not lying to me. I just want the truth of the matter; that’s all I’m looking for right now. The way it used to be when neither of us had anything TO lie about.”

He watched as Allie tucked her knees up and placed her arms around her shins and then rested her chin on top of her knees. Allie’s contemplative posture. She had sat like that many times, mostly when they were discussing something important that they weren’t in agreement on. Like marriage. The free-spirited art major had been a hard sell on the idea of getting married and had sat exactly like that in his dorm room, long blonde hair covering her legs, when he was telling her all the reasons they should get married, nodding as she listened carefully to him, occasionally interjecting that she had no interest in domestication or San Diego or living outside of Atlanta for any longer than it took to get her degree from Berkeley.

“I’m listening,” she said into the silence.

“You don’t seem angry,” Scott observed.

Allie lifted her head and gave him a wan smile. “I am, but not because of Julie, because you’ve broken trust. Although I have this image that she’s getting more of what I want from you, and it doesn’t sit well.”

“She gets less than you.”

“Well, isn’t she stupid, then,” Allie said, shaking her head a bit, and then put her chin back on her knees. “Have you lied to her as well? Have I been painted as some shrew that will take you for everything if we divorce? I mean, I have friends who made the mistake of getting together with married men and that’s the story they all got. Either that, or the man is going to leave eventually. Which story has she been told?”

“I haven’t lied about you. In fact, I don’t discuss you with her,” Scott said.

Allie stayed quiet. She didn’t believe him, Mama always said that if you give a liar enough time they’ll dig their own hole.

“You don’t believe me?”

She shook her head no with a disappointed look on her face.

Scott sighed and finally said, “When you dropped Sam off at college, we had a big blowout fight. Julie expected that once Sam was gone that I’d leave you, but I never told her that’s what would happen. She just assumed. We still argue about it; she doesn’t understand that I love you and I love her.”

The knowledge that he loved Julie and Julie loved him back--enough to fight over it--brought out a protective streak in Allie. She silently processed it. Thirty-six was definitely an adult--old enough to make her own decisions--but at 20-years older than Julie, Allie thought she should speak out on her behalf.

“You aren’t being fair to her. She’s only in her 30s and deserves someone who wants the whole domestic life with her. You know that, right? It’s selfish of you to hold her up from building a life with someone or not being that someone to build a life with.”

Scott hadn’t considered things that way and put his head down. He didn’t want to hurt either of them, and the realization that he was hurting both, in Allie terms, didn’t sit well.

“You haven’t been fair to me either. If you’re out there getting all your needs met, you could have least given that to me as well,” Allie said, not looking at him and Scott had a sense that she was just saying her thoughts out loud, not really talking to him, “All the weekends that you were away if you had just been honest with me, we could have structured everything so both of us were getting what we want and what we need. Instead, you left me guessing.”

"Are you saying you would have let me see Julie if you had known?" Scott asked.

"I did know..."

"You know what I meant, Al," Scott interrupted.

She looked at him softly and smiled. “Am I that different from the girl you fell in love with and spent two months trying to convince to marry you? At the time, I figured a lot of that was because I was still seeing Alex and you wanted me for your own.” She chuckled a little and shook her head at the memory. “Of all people, I understand how a person can be in love with two people at once and I’d think you’d remember that because it was a HUGE issue between us. You made me pick between the two men that I loved.”

“I guess with us being married I just felt that it wasn’t something I should be doing. Not with a daughter and a wife,” Scott admitted. “And I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Well, you did. You hurt yourself too because I can’t trust you anymore.”

Scott looked at her and placed a hand on her foot. “I won’t lie to you ever again.”

She shook her head no and pulled her foot from his touch. “Even if you never lie to me again, I still won’t trust you.”

They sat silently, Scott with his head in his hands, absently running one of them through his hair occasionally. “What now?” Scott finally asked.

“You’re going to be fair to one of us, Scott. And it’s not going to be me because I can’t be with someone I don’t trust.”

Resigned, he nodded and said, "So I have to pick one or the other."

“You didn’t hear me, did you? I just picked for you.”

***

Allie laid with Sam on the big mahogany bed, holding her hand, listening to her tell her all the things in her life that were too complex for texts—her boyfriend, Connor, her professors, one of whom she had a major crush on, her friends she’d made at UC Santa Barbara and their escapades. She smiled at this new daughter who was keeping her in the loop of her life. “And you, Mom? Daddy hasn’t been around much since I’ve been home.”

“Daddy fell in love with someone else. They went to Cancun for the weekend. He’ll be back in time before you leave so you get time together.”

An alarmed Sam sat upright. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, baby girl.”

“The bastard,” Sam said, indignant on her mom’s behalf.

“Don’t be that way. He’s still your daddy,” Allie lightly scolded and urged her daughter to lay back down with her. 

Sam examined her mom. “You’re okay?”

“I am.”

Satisfied that she wasn’t lying, Sam laid back on the bed and held her mom’s hand. “And you? Are you seeing anyone?”

“I have a little thing going on with an old boyfriend, someone I was dating when I was dating your daddy. It’s not serious or anything—just some fun. Camping and dinners and the beach, stuff like that.”

Sam laughed. “You had two boyfriends at the same time?"

“I did. I haven’t always been old and saggy. I had some kind of looks to me when I was young,” Allie said with amusement in her voice. “It turns out he ended up down here as well. We connected on Facebook.”

“Are you and Daddy divorcing?”

“We filed the papers a couple of months ago," Allie said, matter-of-fact. "How serious are things with you and Connor."

“Pretty serious.”

Allie sighed. “And you’re happy? You seem happy.”

“I am. He’s good to me.”

Allie turned to face her daughter and gave her a serious look. “Just remember, baby girl, trust is hard to build and easy to break. Stay honest with each other. All it takes is one little lie for whatever reason—you think that you’re sparing their feelings or are embarrassed about your own behavior—and poof, just like that, you tear down everything when you get caught and you will get caught.”

“Is that how it happened with you and Daddy?”

“It happened exactly like that. I could handle the girlfriend; I couldn’t handle not trusting him after it all came out.”

Sam nodded. “I get it.”

They laid together in comfortable silence and Allie broke it with, “I’m sorry. I know how much you love your daddy. I thought for a minute that I could keep things together for your sake.”

“It’s okay. As long as both of you are okay, I’ll be okay.”

“Don’t commit to Connor until after you get a chance with that professor.”

Sam giggled. “We had one fun night together,” she admitted through her giggles. “As soon as I wasn’t his student anymore, he asked me out.”

“Was Connor okay with that?”

“He was. He wants me to get it out of my system. He thinks I might be The One," she said and rolled her eyes.

Allie looked at her affectionately with a huge grin. “My mama always told me I’d get one just like me.”

“How does it feel?” Sam asked, amused.

“It feels really good is how it feels,” Allie said, squeezing her daughter’s hand affectionately.