Heights of Desire (16 page)

Chapter 18

R
obert chose a couple’s therapist on the Upper East Side. I loathe this neighborhood; it’s the one I grew up in. To me, it represents everything that was wrong with my childhood. I was sheltered and privileged – held captive in the denial that the rest of the world existed – hell, that the rest of Manhattan existed. My younger sister Emily, still lives like this. She lives up here, just buildings away from my parents, near the townhouse we grew up in. She has yet to visit me in the Heights; I doubt she ever will. She spends more money on her dog than most people in my neighborhood have to feed their families.

I’m a hypocrite because, in truth, I’d never been to my own neighborhood until college. The farthest I’d ever ventured into Harlem was Columbia University, which is really just an outpost of wealth and power bellied up against reality.

“I know how much you hate it up here, but this woman comes highly recommended. She’s supposedly one of the best and has written books about marriage as an institution and how to make it work,” Robert says.

“Oh, have you read any of her books?” Marriage as an institution. Sounds warm and loving, very promising.

“No, but we’ll get some.” He reaches out and squeezes my hand. “I’m so glad we’re doing this.”

I smile at him but it’s an empty smile. Of course I’ll try this if it’s what he wants. I’ll try anything to make our family work – to get back to where we were before. It’s my fault that we ever strayed.

Robert drops me off in front and goes to park. It’s a large building that appears to be both commercial and residential with the lower floors dedicated to doctor’s offices and the upper to old wealth luxury living. Anita Thompson Psy. D.’s office is on the second floor. The elevator opens into a quiet hallway that must house multiple therapists, each with a white noise machine just outside the door filling the air with mechanical whispers. My palms are sweating. I press the buzzer and the door unlocks loudly as she buzzes me in. Her office is nothing more than a single large room decorated like someone’s den aside from a desk and filing cabinets nestled into one corner.

“Mrs. Champion,” Anita Thompson says coming across the room and reaching her arms out to grab both of my hands in greeting.

“Call me Kate,” I say. What a strange way to say hello. She’s way too young and pretty to be counseling people on relationships. She has big and bright brown eyes and beautiful natural curls falling over her shoulders. She’s petite and fit, dressed in a tight, peach colored shift dress. My eyes search out her hands – no ring – not married.
Either that or she gives her rings to her boyfriend.

“Robert just notified me that he’s parking so why don’t we get started on your intake since he’s already done his. That way he can just join in when he get’s here.”

“Sure,” I shrug. She’s too bubbly and enthusiastic. This isn’t the gym. We’re here because I’m having an affair. I sit down on a leather sofa that I recognize from the Restoration Hardware catalogue while she perches cheerfully on a chair across from me, notebook in hand.

We go through all of the dysfunction questions about suicidal or homicidal feelings, depression, abuse, trauma and drug use. If anything, I’m painfully boring for a psychologist. I don’t carry much baggage, I wear very few scars. She won’t be able to find the secret motivation for my infidelity if that’s what she’s looking for. I don’t think one exists. Jaylee just happened, like the big bang, like the immaculate conception.

Robert is silently beside me about half-way through. He holds my hand. He’s so serious about the therapy. He’s on a real mission to fix us.

“So Kate, Robert contacted me hoping that the two of you could benefit from not only talking about the problems you’re facing in your relationship, but also by coming together to make a plan for the future.”

“Okay,” I say. It’s impossible for me to match her enthusiasm.

“Robert has expressed to me that he wants to stay in the marriage, to make it work between the two of you. Do you feel the same way?”

“I do.”

“Okay, then if I may, can we speak openly about your infidelity and the problems that have arisen from it? Are you okay with that?”

“Yes,” I say. I can’t commit to more than one word answers.

“So I’d like to ask you if you’re still actively engaging in a romantic relationship with your lover? What’s his name, can we use his name?”

“Jaylee,” I whisper his name. I don’t want to share it with them. It feels so heavy and tangible on my tongue. “I kissed him when I saw him in the hospital. I plan on bailing him out of jail. Other than that it’s over.”

“Do you want it to be over?”

Oh, God! No, not at all. I want him so badly. It’s crushing me.
“I know that it has to be over.” Anita’s brow furrows, unsatisfied at my answer.

“Robert told me that there is a significant age difference between you and . . . Jaylee.”

“Twenty years,” I say. It no longer sounds shocking to me. I own it.

“Do you think that the age difference is inappropriate?”

“Maybe it would be if I were the one to pursue him. But that’s not what happened. He’s never given me any indication that he’s uncomfortable with our ages. If he did, then yes, it would be inappropriate.”

“Do you think it says anything about you?” she asks.

What? I’m immature. Having a midlife crisis? I’m taking advantage of Jaylee’s Oedipal complex?
“I don’t think anyone finds it strange when the genders are reversed. A forty-two-year-old man going after a twenty-two-year-old woman? It happens all the time.”

“I actually agree with you there. But if you truly desire to repair your marriage – then why go to the hospital. Why involve yourself in his bail?”

“Because if he’s suffering, I suffer. I’m connected to him. I did it to ease both of our suffering.”

“But what if by doing so you are inflicting pain on Robert and your daughters? Maybe you need to mediate your actions in terms of working towards prioritizing your family.”

I feel like an asshole. She’s so pretty and it makes me feel even worse. She’d never do anything as ugly as I’ve done. She’s perfect and I’m a mess. How come everyone in my life is perfect? Robert, Dr. Thompson, my parents, my sister. I’m the only one failing at being an adult.

Robert has been rubbing his thumb continuously over the same spot on the back of my hand to the point that my skin is irritated and raised. I look at him and he seems lost admiring Dr. Thompson.

“I’m not sure Robert is in pain. What if I think he likes me better this way? What if he wants to love me more and fuck me more and keep me more than he ever did before?”

“Is that what you think is happening?”

Robert crosses and uncrosses his legs. He sighs in frustration. I know it irks him that I’m swearing.

“I
know
that’s what’s happening. What if my unfaithfulness is the only thing keeping our marriage together?”

Robert shakes his head but says nothing.

“I doubt Robert would have contacted me if that were the case. What it sounds like you’re describing is a destructive level of co-dependency going on between the two of you.”

“Sometimes I just want something that’s mine and mine alone. Robert is managing to steal even this from me.”

“Maybe that’s something you could explore in your academic endeavors.”

“I can’t believe you just fucking said that!” This is my sore spot. Of course Robert must have told her about my ABD status when they were psychoanalyzing
me
during
his
intake.

“Kate, let’s try some restraint. Can we be civil?” Robert says, placing his hand on my arm.

“What do you want, Robert, really?” I turn my body to face him. “You invite him to babysit, you give him money to stay away from me, and then you show up at the hospital to lawyer him while he’s questioned? And now Janinie is your new best friend?”

“My involvement has always been only in your best interest, Katie,” he says, his voice soft and low in contrast to my raving.

“No Robert, your involvement is a means to increase your power from all angles so that you can fucking win! And it’s not just Jaylee you want to win against – it’s me. You want me to lose to you. And if I do, where the fuck do we go from there?”

Dr. Thompson has dropped out completely. She’s stunned by our exchange.

“Katie, I think you’re under a lot of stress right now,” Robert says.

“Don’t fucking patronize me!” I scream it and automatically stand. Anita pops up too, looking nervous, and then so does Robert.

“Okay. Let’s diffuse this. Everybody sit down. This is meant to be a safe place to release these feelings. Let’s try to work it out.” Dr. Thompson is once again in her element. She’s beaming and exuding excitement.

I slump back down onto the couch, my chest heaving from emotion.

“Kate – Robert – we’re almost out of time here. I think we actually made a lot of progress today, even if it doesn’t feel like it.”

She’s going to let us go home like this. All raw and torn up, with so much exposed.

“Sometimes these things need a breaking point to begin the healing process.”

“It can’t get any worse,” Robert mutters, his eyes cast down at the floor.

“When dealing with infidelity what we’re really talking about is one person changing intimacy, intimacy in every sense, to another person. It’s not uncommon for the partner being shut out to try to insert themselves into the picture, sometimes by any means possible, so that they have some relevancy.”

This must be straight out of the book. Robert reaches for my hand, squeezing it in an automatic gesture of comfort, and I squeeze back as hard as I can, digging my nails in, trying to inflict pain.

“Kate, you may be making Robert insecure not only about his role as your husband, but also as your friend, your confidant, your lover. It’s important to take that into consideration when you’re judging
his
actions.”

Robert pulls me into an embrace from behind when we get into the elevator. Once the doors close he’s kissing my neck and jaw. He turns me around and his kiss is open-mouthed and heated. I don’t have the energy to push him away. His grip is possessive and he takes my mouth greedily.

He feels vindicated from our session, his guilt absolved in confirmation of his own rectitude. He’s so fucking hard against my stomach that it borders on obscene.

“I knew this would help us,” he mumbles between kisses, then places my hand directly onto his solid erection.

I grab him loosely through his tailored slacks. My heart isn’t in it and I wonder if it ever will be again. Robert releases his grip on my breast, straightens his tie and tosses his head back as the elevator dings its arrival in the lobby. Apparently, being right turns Robert on like a motherfucker. But I guess I already knew that about him. That’s why he’s such an impeccable lawyer.

The elevator doors open and without thinking I reach out and push the penthouse button. Robert takes it as an invitation for more petting and pushes me into the corner of the elevator. I shove him back keeping both my hands pressed against his chest.

“What exactly the fuck is it that you want from me? Why did you bring me here?”

“Calm down, Katie!” Robert looks alarmed. This isn’t what he expected from me. He grabs both of my wrists and tries to pull me against him.

“You’ve made it clear that I’m not allowed to leave!”

“I never said that,” he rebuffs.

“You told me you’d take the girls.”

“And I stand by that. I
will
take the girls. Look at yourself, you’re unstable.”

“Then I’m not allowed to leave!”

I take a swing at him. I want to hurt him. I feel humiliated after the session. I can’t stand his gloating. He blocks my fist and shoves me back against the wall leaning his weight in and pinning me.

“I want you to surrender. Just give up,” he whispers it angrily through grated teeth. “Let’s clear your name. Let me handle everything. We’ll get back to where we were before.”

I weaken into his chest. All of the fight’s gone out of me.

“I’ll get us back, Katie. I promise. Just please, please
stop
fighting me.”

Chapter 19

I
do a little bit of research on bail and bail bondsmen. My only point of reference is the A&E television show. I, of course, can’t ask Robert questions about bail, and I was too embarrassed to bring it up with my financial advisor when I asked him to liquidate funds from my trust. I did have him open a new checking account in my name alone to keep Robert from seeing the transfers and withdrawals. I’m sure my parents would die if they knew what I was using their money for.

It turns out there are plenty of bondsmen in the Heights and even more in the Bronx. I don’t know how to tell if one is more reputable than the next so I pick the one with the nicest website. I also purposefully avoid my own neighborhood. I leave the girls with Carmen and take the D train to the Bronx. It’s located in the East Tremont section. I stand out like a sore thumb with my Chanel purse and shades. I wish I’d thought ahead enough to play the part.

Sal Lombardo is balding and potbellied but quick to laugh and seems happy to be doing his job. His accent is super thick, Italian – Brooklyn style – and I find myself wondering how he ended up here and bail bonding in the first place. His website said it was a family business and sure enough he introduces me to his niece, Bianca, who works as his assistant. She’s busty, with acrylic nails and pink lipstick. She types so loudly on the keyboard that it sounds amplified as if it were coming through a speaker.

I explain my situation and Sal listens with a sympathetic ear. Bianca stops typing and listens too, snapping her gum and blowing her bangs up with her lower lip jutted out. Sal asks me questions about prior convictions and whether or not Jaylee has ever missed a court date. Of course I have no idea and I really wish I’d thought to bring Janinie. I tell him everything I know about his case, excluding my own involvement. That Jaylee was released the morning after I saw him, that he’s being held at Riker’s Island. He’s been there seven days. A full week.

I don’t even have a clue what his bail’s been set at. Thankfully, Sal has access and starts making calls to the courthouse, despite my gaff in going outside the borough Jaylee was arrested in. He puts his hand over the mouthpiece and asks me “you have his inmate number?” I shake my head. I don’t. Having your beautiful lover turned into an inmate number is painful. Now there are two inmate numbers in the Inoa family.

“Uh huh, uh huh,” Sal starts jotting things down on a yellow legal pad. “Wow wee! Steep!” He says emitting a whistle. He thanks whoever he’s talking to and hangs up the phone. “Quarter mil, pretty lady. Looks like your man got ‘isself into some real trouble.”

I explain the trafficking charge and the alleged shot fired at a police officer.

“Hero in the box, enemy on the streets,” he says.

“I’m not familiar with . . .”

“Shoot a cop, thug’s a hero on the inside but like a leper on the outside. Nobody’s gonna want to work with you because you’re the cops’ enemy. Marked man.”

This shit just keeps getting better and better. I feel like I’m from a different planet.

“Well, maybe he can get a real job, “ I say slightly irritated, not with Lombardo but with the stupid code of the streets.

“Yeah, maybe,” Sal says with zero optimism. “They don’t want ‘im out, I can tell ya that much. It’s called preventative detention, just means highest bail’s been set to keep ‘im in.”

“I do,” is all I reply.

Sal explains that I can use property or other valuables against the bail. I tell him that most of everything I own are in fact joint possessions with my husband and that I prefer to pay cash. He raises an eyebrow at the mention of the word ‘husband’ but doesn’t ask any questions.

“Cash it is then, Mrs. Champion. Twenty-five thousand for you, the rest from me. Young man screws up – it’s all on you.”

I quickly take out the checkbook for my new account and write out the check to Lombardo.

“Lucky to ‘ave you, I’d say. Beautiful woman willing to cash out. One lucky fella.”

This is Sal’s idea of a compliment. I only smile at him in response.
I’m the lucky one.
There’s nothing lucky about this situation for Jaylee.

“There’ll be conditions to his release that he’s gonna have to adhere to. Violates any of the conditions – judge’ll revoke bail and have ‘im rearrested – and you, ma’am, lose your money. So what I’m sayin’ is try an keep ‘im in line.”

“I will,” I say to appease him.

“Oh, I don’t doubt that Mrs. Champion, I don’t doubt that at all.”

Bianca gives a subtle snort at her uncles’ innuendo and starts loudly stacking all of the paperwork she’s been printing out of the ancient printer. I sign the paperwork. It occurs to me that I could be signing over the equivalent of a college education for Ada or Pearl but I quickly push the thought away and force myself to continue. Jaylee’s good for it. I know him, both heart and soul. He’s man enough to face the consequences.

“You gonna go pick ‘im up? That’s always nice.”

“Maybe,” is all I say and shake Lombardo’s hand. I know I can’t. I’ve made and broken too many promises to Robert. I told him this was the last thing I’d do. I’ve got to stay away from Jaylee, even if it breaks my heart.

The train is nearly empty on the way home. I take advantage of the luxury and pull my feet up beside me reclining against the side of the car. I feel somehow lighter knowing Jaylee will be out within a matter of days, if not hours. I’m sure Robert won’t ask me so I won’t volunteer the information. We’re in a sort of don’t ask-don’t tell rhythm. He doesn’t ask and I don’t tell. He’s been buying me things again and bringing home flowers. He rubs my feet and my shoulders, as if trying to massage away all of the unease between us. I know he’s busy at work, but he’s been making a real effort to spend time with me. Robert’s job is serious. He’s represented some fierce criminals with some staggering crimes. Mobsters and gangsters- people that probably should go to jail because they’re guilty as charged but that’s not Robert’s concern. If they have the money, he has the means to get them exonerated. It’s an odd comfort to me to know that my crime is minor compared to what he sees, that Robert doesn’t judge me for what I did. I get the feeling he’s not so impressed with the gravity of Jaylee’s crime either. To him we’re petty criminals – small scale – cannon fodder. Our real crime was falling in love.

A day after my interaction with Sal Lombardo, my phone rings with Jaylee’s number on the screen. My heartstrings are immediately pulled so tightly that I’m not sure I’ll be able to answer it. I haven’t seen this number on my phone in more than six months. Six months that felt like a lifetime. Sweet disappointment seeps into my bloodstream when I hear Janinie’s voice on the other end. She’s calling to tell me that they’re going to pick him up. She doesn’t invite me along. I wouldn’t go if she did. Her voice is strange, it’s sounds a little off. I sense it in the air between us, there’s something she’s not telling me. I hear reconciliation, but also apprehension. I’m afraid to ask her.

“Thanks for doing it, Kate,” she says.

“You don’t need to thank me.”

“Yeah, but there’s no way we could have . . .”

“Don’t say it. You don’t need to.” It’s awkward to say the least.

“Okay, but thanks.”

“He probably shouldn’t try to contact me. I’m trying to . . . we’re trying . . .”

This conversation is failing.

“Alright. I can tell him, but he ain’t gonna listen to me. You gonna have to fight him off. You know that.”

“He stayed away before,” I say, the memory of that time still painful, still fresh.

“But that was different. I don’t think nobody’s ever gone out on a limb for him like you did. He’s gonna be even more determined. Believe me, if there’s one person I know, it’s my brother. No se rinde.”

And I love that about him. It’s pure and beautiful and mindbendingly sexy to me. But I can’t do this anymore. I can’t fool him or myself into believing we could make something work for real, that we could have a future together.

“Oscar says just because he’s bailed it don’t mean he’s not going to jail.”

She’s scared. Poor thing. I realize that Jaylee has probably been her father-figure since her dad was imprisoned when she was just a toddler. This means losing her nuclear family again. This means financial peril and complete uncertainty. She’s only sixteen.

“Listen, Neenay, I’ll help you guys out however I can. I’m not going to disappear. We’ll figure something out.” I can’t bring myself to try to comfort her about jail. Jaylee’s going to serve time, no matter how much I refuse to admit it.

“So it’s true then, what Oscar said. He is going to jail?”

“We don’t know that. There’s no way to be certain.”

“Are you going to jail, Kate?”

Robert’s already explained some of it to me. I should be able to walk away with some community service hours if I’m lucky. The charges will be minor.

“I don’t know for sure, Neenay, but no, probably not.”

“Because you have a good lawyer?”

It’s sounds awful when Janinie says it. She might as well have said ‘money’ instead of ‘lawyer.’ It feels dirty and shameful. Why does it have to be so black and white? Is this what it comes down to? Is this what our two different realities look like?

“Can Robert help us?” She asks quietly and shyly, sounding like a little girl and not like beautiful and sassy Janinie.

“I’ll try, sweetie, I’m going to do whatever I can.” I can’t believe I just called her, ‘sweetie.’

She’s quiet for a second and then breathes out in vibrato, stifling tears.

“My mom says that Robert’s the one that did it. That it’s his fault Jaylee’s in trouble.”

“Robert?” I ask, confused by her suggestion.

This is it. This is what Janinie was keeping from me. If anything Robert has been helpful. He’s offered his time, even his services, out of genuine concern. Why does Janet think that Robert would involve himself in a local drug deal?

“They’re back. I gotta go.”

I can hear Janet and Gladys in the background.

“Con quién habla’, hija?”

The phone call ends abruptly. I take the phone away from my ear and stare at it in my hand. She didn’t want them to know she was talking to me. They blame
me
for everything that’s happened to Jaylee.

I’m speechless and I’m so offended. How could they think that I’d do anything to hurt the one person that I’d do almost anything to protect? I’ve sacrificed myself for Jaylee. I’ve put him before my own children.

I scroll through my contacts and dial Oscar.

“Flash, what the fuck is happening? Why do they hate me?”

“Hold up, Kate. Wait a sec. Wha, What? Who?”

“Jaylee’s family. Janinie said something about Robert being to blame for what’s happened.”

Oscar is silent for far too long.

“Oscar?”

“Yeah. Well. That. Jay’s ma found out that your man had a PI out after him. Knew what Jay was doing. Knew exactly where he’d be. She thinks he tipped them off.”

“Who?” I ask and a slow, sick numbness starts to spread through my body. My fingers are suddenly so heavy that it’s hard to grip the phone. “She thinks that
Robert
tipped off the police.” I want to say it before he does. I feel nauseated with dread and disgust, and perhaps most uncomfortably, fear. “Did he?” I ask Oscar in a whisper.

“Who knows, Kate? But you should ask him flat out.”

“He fucked with my phone.” I don’t know why I’m telling Oscar this. It’s the first time I’ve admitted it. I just want someone to talk to. I want the terrible numbness in my limbs to go away. What’s more, I’d like to go away. Just run away and pretend none of this is happening.

“Robert or Jaylee?”

“Robert blocked Jaylee’s calls and texts from my phone. Jaylee told me in the hospital he’d been calling. I didn’t know that he was reaching out to me this whole time. I didn’t know how much he cared.”

“I figured something like that. Anyway, Kate, it’s the least of your problems. Listen, I’ll tell Jay.”

“Would you?” I feel so grateful toward Oscar. I feel like he’s my friend now too.

“Yeah. I know you don’t wanna hear this but he ain’t gonna walk away. Not fuckin’ Jay. Not a chance.” His admiration for his friend shines through in his voice.

“Me neither,” I state firmly.

“Then do something, mujer. Make your move. I’m just sayin’ Christ, already!”

“If it were only that easy.” I’m saying it but my heart doesn’t believe it. My heart’s already made its decision. My heart belongs to Jaylee. I can’t turn it off. I can’t turn it back around.
And Jaylee is going to jail.

“Look I gotta go.”

“Thanks, Oscar. Tell him not to contact me. Please. I made an agreement with Robert and with the therapist. I can’t have any contact.”

“Yeah. I’ll tell him. And just so you know, that’ll do like,
nothing
. You’re gonna have to tell him yourself. Eventually.”

When we hang up I fall onto the long, white couch in the living room. I bring my knees to my chest and slowly rock my body back and forth. The uncertainty weighs a thousand suffocating pounds. Janet hates me more than ever now. That’s not going away. But the real question is, could she be right? And if she’s right it would mean that Robert not only wanted to ruin Jaylee but that he was willing to let me become a casualty in the process. Was he feigning sleep the night I snuck out? Did he plan the whole thing? What if I’d been killed? What about the girls? I can’t believe that he’d sacrifice the mother of his children for some stupid payback. I won’t let myself believe it.

I spring up from the couch unable to sit still with the idea. The only concrete piece in this equation is that Robert did something to my phone. That at least, I’ll be able to prove. The rest is speculation. It would mean that everything between Robert and me is nothing but a charade. I grab my keys and purse and head to the nearest wireless store. For some reason it’s important to me to see the phone calls and the texts – every last one of them. I want to see on paper, all of the days and the minutes and the seconds that Jaylee was thinking about me. I want them back.