My Wife's Li'l Secret (26 page)

As I drove to work, I faced the hard truth – it was me. I
invited
those dreams.

The coward in me couldn’t be truthful to
me
and admit just how Aristov’s words about Liefie affected me. Couldn’t be man enough to admit that I was struggling with Liefie’s past even though I loved her deeply.

You may think a woman’s past does not matter, will not matter.

But you are wrong – it will eventually. Guaranteed.

She was thirteen, very scared, quiet, didn’t know anything, so I taught her, gave her the experience she needed.

Each time I recalled those soul-destroying words, I found myself accelerating and yelling at whoever was in my path.

“Why the hell do they have to have this many traffic lights?” I demanded of the dashboard.

So many times, I didn’t shower after being with him and I came straight to you.

“Red! Red! Red!” I snarled at the traffic lights. “Give me a fucking break!”

“Drive, you fucking idiot!” I yelled to the man in a cream Mercedes.

“Give a guy a break will you, dipshit, I need to merge!” I snapped at the man in a white station wagon.

…when you fuck her in the future, know that I am in the bed with you.

“Take the train if you don’t know how to drive, lady!”

Then Bear called. “I’m gonna be late,” he said. “Arena’s taking me shopping for a tux.”

“Tux? For…?”

“Your wedding! She’s
sourcing
, so to speak. You know your sister.”

A cold hand of terror gripped at me.
Wedding
shopping!

“You there, Big?”

“Y…yeah, yeah, I’m here.”

“See you after lunch, okay?”

“Sure.” I quickly ended the call, wiped away the beads of sweat on my forehead, and turned on the radio.

Nelly’s "Just a Dream" was playing. I liked that song and tried to sing along to it.

“…I was thinking ’bout you, thinking ‘bout me…open my eyes …just a dream…”

Suddenly, I hated the song. I hastily turned off the radio.

Which part of our life was real? Was everything just a dream?

Our sex life had always been amazing. A lot of women go off sex after having kids, leaving a wake of sexually frustrated men. Not with us. Liefie was always ready to please me.

I cannot remember a time Liefie denied me. Quickies were
always
entertained.

Of course I wasn’t unreasonable, I was in tune with her moods.

She in turn was totally in tune with my moods, and she could calm me with a touch of her hand – a simple thing like placing her hand on my stomach and looking into my eyes became foreplay with us.

My mind drifted to all the sexual positions we used during sex: reverse cowgirl, doggie style, wheelbarrow – she knew them all and she was adept at it. Now we knew why; she was taught to be skillful in the sack.

I felt like I had just sucked on a lemon.

I should have known, should have suspected. I mean, for someone who was shy and who covered herself in clothes, who ignored male attention, she came alive in the sack – pulled off her hair tie, shook her hair free, mounted me like a pro and took me to dizzying heights. She was intent on pleasing me, and sex with her was always great. Never just good – great.

I loved that about her. To me, it was a case of the bespectacled librarian wearing suspender belts and garters under her modest Laura Ashley dress.

What a fool I was to think that.

Feeling like I had a boulder the size of Ayers Rock on my chest, without thinking, I pulled over to the side of the road and turned off my ignition.

A moving violation, but I didn’t care. I just needed to stop doing whatever it was I was doing. I don’t know how long I sat there and stared into space.

How do I overcome this? I asked myself.

Could I ever overcome it?

Logic screamed that I couldn’t.

I couldn’t marry Liefie.

The wedding had to be called off. At least until the past no longer mattered to me.

I needed to call Liefie and tell her that. Right away. Come clean. Be honest with her.

But I didn’t. Instead, I covered the canary for the night and waited.

For what, I had no idea; I just waited.

****

The following evening at 6 p.m., Arena, Bear, and I, together with my two girls and Bear and Arena's three children, were at the airport waiting to welcome Liefie and Gareth with flowers, balloons, and some cards the kids had made for them.

I hadn’t told my girls about Gareth. All I said was, “I have a huge surprise for you girls.”

Ally said, “Give us a clue, Dadda.”

“It moves,” I said.

“It’s a puppy!” Becky cried, clapping her hands.

“No, no, no!” I quickly said. “It’s got two legs.”

“Oh, it’s a fish,” Becky replied without clapping her hands.

I let it ride.

At the airport, the kids spent their time trying to guess, with the help of Arena’s three kids.

“A teddy bear that moves!” Ally said.

“A watch! A pink one,” Becky said.

“A whole bag of chocolates and lollies and …” Amy, Bear’s daughter said.

“A giant bucket of Legos,” Warren said. “Mums always buy Legos when they don’t know what to buy. Maybe pink ones since you’re girls. Maybe Barbie ones. Girlie ones.” He looked at his father. “Right, Dad?”

“Yep, mums have been known to do that,” Bear said in a distracted voice, his eyes fixed on me.

“Ritchie?”

I looked up into Arena’s frowning face.

“You okay?” she asked.

“Yeah, yeah,” I said and quickly looked away.

“You sure? You’ve been pacing like crazy, and like…you’re really quiet.”

I stared at my sister, then at Bear standing next to her, his eyes turning to slits.

“Are you …this is a crazy question, but are you having second thoughts about Liefie, perhaps?”

“What?! No, no, no! That is a crazy question. How can you ask that? That is weird…crazy…like, c’mon!” I rubbed the back of my head, then my chin, then my arm.

My sister didn’t answer, but I didn’t miss the concern, the flicker of panic in her blue eyes.

For a few moments we stood in silence.

“We’re going to get married, Arena,” I said. “Renewing our vows.” I shrugged. “I asked her to, remember?” More shrugging from me and not a peep from my sister.

“We have three children, remember? I gotta think ’bout them, do the right thing.”

Their silence unnerved me.

Bear cleared his throat. “If you are worried about the sleeping arrangements…?”

“What? No, no, no…no…c’mon, Bear!”

“You know, Big,” Bear said, “I don’t think Liefie’s going to expect you to just fall back into the life you both once shared.”

I looked at him, my eyebrows raised.
No
?

He shook his head.

When Bear stared at me, a sympathetic look on his face, my shoulders sagged with…I don’t know, maybe weariness, the magnitude of the whole situation, fear of having to sleep with Nadia, having to tell her how I feel and that I can’t marry her again.

My eyes moved back to my sister. I blinked rapidly, wishing I could verbalize my real feelings, wishing I had the courage to tell them that yes, I desperately wanted my family whole, and that I fully understood Nadia’s past, but…I was having nightmares about it.

I was supposed to be a good guy, right? Supposed to be the knight in shining armor who saved his love from the bad guys.

The strong, unselfish father who manned up and put his kids and family first.

What about our wedding vows?

I was supposed to love my wife for better or worse. My love was supposed to be so strong that it could overcome any obstacle, jump over any hurdles that came our way.

Yet, I was feeling trapped, cornered and terrified by our upcoming wedding, which was most unfair to Nadia, because not once did she coerce me into getting back with her. All our plans to be together –our wedding, taking off where we left things, re-uniting our precious family – were my idea. Mine.

I had acted prematurely.

With conflict raging inside of me, I stuck my hands deep into my pockets and stood shrouded in despair.

I am not a nice guy. I am a jerk. A selfish, self-centered coward.

Arena and Bear exchanged troubled looks while I stared at the floor as if the answer to my dilemma was in the hard-wearing tiles.

“You’ve been through a lot, Ritchie,” Arena said, putting her hand on my shoulder. “She’s been quite deceitful, even though you can’t hold that against her, because it wasn’t her fault, we get that. But none of this is your fault. None. You were dragged into it, okay? None of it. In fact, you have handled this really well, if you ask me. You never pointed fingers, never accused her…all you did was stand by her and shield her.” As she spoke, my sister’s voice became defiant.

My nod was slight. “I really need time. I’m not saying it
won’t
happen, I’m sure it
will
happen; it’s just a matter of time. I mean, I don’t ever want to lose her again. Just want some space to ease into…” I shrugged.

“Fair enough. You’re still sleeping in the spare bedroom, right?”

“Yeah.”

“She gets the main bedroom?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course. I bought her a new bed, new linen.”

Arena nodded. “After you pick her up and she settles down, sit down and talk. Casually. Emphasize that you need time. Be honest, but be gentle."

I rubbed my eyes with the palms of both hands as my inner turmoil escalated.

“Flight 764 from Johannesburg has landed!”

A surge of metallic terror shot through me when I heard the announcement.

“Later,” Bear said in a voice that made both Arena nod and terminate our conversation abruptly.

While the kids ran rings around us, Bear, Arena, and I stood in a row to receive Gareth and Liefie, our backs ramrod-straight, our smiles tight and rigid.

It was an international flight, so we had to wait for custom clearance. It would take a while.

By the time the first passenger walked through the doors, my cheeks ached from smiling and my lips threatened to crack from the strain of it.

It’ll be okay. The moment you see them, all doubt will vanish from your mind. You will be like Richard Gere in Pretty Woman – he fell in love with a prostitute, remember? Married her.

When make-up-free Nadia emerged with little Gareth in her arms, dressed in a pair of black jeans, a white, long-sleeve shirt and ballet flats, I saw my wife, my
old
Olga again. The one I fell in love with.

Sure, with Gareth in her arms and a baby bag over her shoulder, she looked unmistakably like a mum, but her shiny, waist-length hair, slim figure, beautiful eyes and fresh face had the men around turning to look twice at her.

In spite of my inner turmoil, I felt a sense of pride – she was the mother of my children.

With my smile firmly in situ, I stepped forward and greeted Liefie with a big hug and a kiss on the cheek, then quickly moved to take Gareth. “Hey, li’l fella, how are you?”

He turned his face away from me and clung to Liefie, but I laughed and tore him off her. “You’ve grown!” I said, holding him high up in the air.

“Mummy!” my girls cried and darted toward Liefie.

I didn’t expect my daughters to give Liefie that kind of reception – not after the way Olga had treated them. But in spite of everything, they seemed to miss their mother.

Liefie burst into tears and hugged them, then smothered them with kisses.

I was so happy for my daughters that I got choked up. But when Liefie squeezed them too tight, Ally freaked out, probably because she was a little scared of her mother.

“Dad…dy!” Ally cried in a do-something voice.

“It’s okay, hon,” I said in a reassuring tone. “Mum’s missed you, that’s all.”

“I’ve got presents for you,” Liefie said, releasing Ally. That got all the kids' attention, and they gathered around her like Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.

“First, this is Gareth,” she said, pointing to our son. “Your baby brother.”

The girls were delighted they could have a real baby to play around with instead of Ally Cat and Becky Cat and Mother Cat and Kit Kat.

Arena stepped forward and just took little Gareth from me. “Hello, baby,” she cooed, her face aglow with happiness. To my absolute surprise, he smiled at her.

“Hey, you didn’t smile at me like that!” I complained.

“That’s ’cause he knows his auntie,” Arena said in a proud voice.

“Mm.”

****

Liefie sat next to me as we drove home while the kids sat in the back seat with Little Gareth.

“I never thought I’d see Sydney again,” Liefie whispered, her neck swiveling to take in all the sights. “This is a dream come true. Really it is.”

I smiled. “Then there’s Girly,” I reminded her. “Remember her?”

“Yes?”

“Well, she’s not very fond of you know who, and …”

“Don’t worry,” Liefie said, tapping my shoulder in a reassuring gesture. “It will be a pleasure to win her over.”

I looked at Liefie.
Bet you will. After all, you were taught from an early age how to win people over, weren’t you?

“What?” she asked.

Quickly, I shook my head to clear away the poisonous thought. “That’s my Liefie,” I said. “My adept problem solver. Am I glad you’re back.” Funny thing was, I meant it.

I reached out to touch her cheek, out of guilt, I think. She moved her lips to kiss my hand and beamed.

When Girly saw Liefie enter the house dressed differently, she balked. “Jesus God!” she muttered and touched her pocket.

Liefie swung into action. She threw her arms around Girly and said, “Thank you for taking care of my children and my husband. I heard so much about you.”

Girly stood stiff in her embrace, her eyes darting all over the place, her hand firmly on her pocket. Olga had never embraced Girly before.

“I brought you a gift!” Nadia released Girly and handed her a small box with a red bow.

Girly, whose voice seemed to have vanished, accepted the box the way you would accept an un-potted cactus.

Liefie took no notice, she continued talking.

Girly’s head turned really slowly to look at me, confusion in her eyes. “Pig?” she finally whispered.

“It’s…eh…
complicated
, Girly,” I said. “But please, put away that Voodoo doll. It’s not necessary. Really, it isn’t. You’re gonna like her, trust me.”

She didn’t answer. She just stared at Liefie, then kept glancing at the door, probably expecting to see Cruikshank enter the house.

“He’s not coming back,” I said in a reassuring voice.

Her nod was slight and she didn’t look convinced in any way.

About an hour later, a relaxed Girly brushed past me and whispered, “I told you she was coming back to live here.”

“Aaahhhh! That’s what you meant. Or
saw
. Whatever.”

When Girly finally smiled, I exhaled.

I spent the rest of the evening quietly stressing over our sleeping arrangements. Should I talk to Liefie about it now? I wondered. Wait a little longer? Wait for her to talk to me about it? Mention casually that since she has little Gareth, I would sleep in the spare room?

I really didn’t know how to handle things, so…I did nothing.

****

“Well, we’ll be off,” Arena said around 10 p.m., gathering her brood.

I spun around to look at her. “What? No wait! It’s…it’s…it’s still early.”

“But you guys need some time to yourselves,” Arena said, her eyes shifting between Liefie’s and mine.

“What? Nah, we got plenty of time. Have some tea. Girly!” I twisted my neck to find her. “Get everyone some Chinese tea, please! They haven’t tried your elixir.”

Arena shifted in her shoes, her face turning red while Liefie paused with her packing away of the wedding stuff she had showed Arena and Girly earlier on. Liefie looked at me, a flicker of confusion in her eyes.

“Okay, sure,” Arena said in an upbeat voice. “I would love to try some of Girly’s tea!”

I didn’t care how embarrassing it was, I did not want to be alone with Liefie.

My
stay
lasted an hour before Liefie approached me. “Can we talk, Ritchie?”

“S…ure!” I said, sitting forward in my chair and slapping my thighs. “Of course!” My voice was high-pitched and strained. This is how it must feel to walk to the gallows, I thought as we walked to the patio, she leading the way, I quietly following. We stepped onto the patio.

“Wassup?”

She turned to shut the door, then faced me. “You look …tired, Ritchie,” she said.

“I…eh, yeah, well…”

“In fact, you don’t look well, Ritchie.”

Of course, I wasn’t fooled with her tactful manner or with her careful choice of words, and I braced myself for a major confrontation.

“You’ve been through a lot, Ritchie,” she said in a kind voice. “I think you need some alone time to de-stress, a change of environment.”

“Really?”

“Yes, by
yourself
. It’ll give you time to re-charge. I’m thinking you should book yourself on a charter fishing trip and go away for a long weekend. I’ll take care of the kids, Girly will be here to help, so…” She shrugged.

She wasn’t talking about us! She wasn’t confronting me about our wedding, our bed, my confusing behavior!

Relief poured through me, and slowly my shoulders dropped from around my ears. I exhaled.

“Tired?” I tried to catch my reflection in the glass patio doors and pushed my hair behind my ears. “I don’t look that bad…”

That fishing trip was a brilliant idea!

It was exactly what I needed – to have some alone time, to rearrange and weed out all my riotous and negative thoughts, to put things in perspective, which in turn would allay all my anxiety.

“Take some time away and just unwind.”

“Really? You mean that? You want me to join an ashram and eat, pray, and love while you stay home with the kids?” I grinned, hoping the jokey spin would ease the tension.

She nodded, her eyes crinkling. “I want you to. You need it and…you deserve it.”

Fantastic
!

Maybe she forgot about the wedding, I thought. Maybe, now that she noticed my physical and emotional exhaustion, she'd postpone it indefinitely?

Maybe she too has had a change of heart and wants to just be friends for now. Hope ignited in me.

“By the time you get back, Arena and I will have everything sorted out.”

“Everything?”

“For the wedding. You just have to arrange your tux, that’s all.”

At a complete loss for words, I stared at her.

“Let’s go inside,” she said, walking toward the patio door. “My jetlag is setting in, and judging by Gareth’s crankiness, I suspect he may be feeling the same way.”

“Sure.”

She opened the doors and stepped inside the house. Silently, I followed her inside, suddenly feeling claustrophobic.

That night when Liefie and Gareth went to bed, I stayed up and watched re-runs of
Seinfeld
with a bottle of Jack Daniels to keep me company.

When that finished, I watched a program about Alaskan truckers.

When that ended, I watched some show about youngsters in the UK who live in a big house, drink they’re mortal every night, then bang each other or people they just met.
Geordie
something.

When that finished, I watched the shopping channel and learned about a super absorbent mop that could even mop up blood from a crime scene, a vacuum cleaner that could pick up a coffee table (I had no idea you could vacuum a coffee table), and a foundation that changes with the color of your skin and leaves your face looking flawless (I think it was just for women, though).

When my eyelids grew heavy and I could no longer stay awake, I stumbled upstairs, dread mounting with each step, in spite of my inebriated state. Taking a deep breath, I poked my head into the main bedroom. Both Gareth and Liefie were fast asleep. Extremely relieved, I stumbled into the spare bedroom and fell asleep fully clothed.

****

At around 10 a.m. the next morning, after taking three aspirins for my massive hangover, I was on my way to my three-day fishing trip in Nelson Bay, where we had a holiday house.

The trip would do me good, I told myself. I would get a chance to miss Liefie, miss my home, and I would find myself hurrying back to her, eager to get married. Everything in the past would be just there, and none of it would bother me in the least.

I geared up, bought a new rod on the way, threw in the best fishing lures I could find, and some bait guaranteed to help me reel in some big motherfuckers.

The moment I got into my holiday house, without really unpacking, I slipped into my fishing gear, took three more aspirins, and headed to the beach, eager for the solitude, the silence, and the fresh air to help soothe my troubled thoughts and clear my mind.

But it had the opposite effect. I found myself asking questions that I did not want answers to, and to make things worse, I already knew the answers to some of my questions.

Did Liefie fuck Aristov
and
his men, like in my dream, or just Aristov?

Did he do her in my house?

Did he do her in my bed?

Did he take her to his house?

I pressed my palms to my eyes. My wife, the woman I loved with all my heart, enough to remarry her in spite of her deceiving me, the mother of my children, was once a prostitute.

That was the most troubling part – acknowledging and accepting that I had married a hooker.

I acknowledged it, I understood the reasons why, I even sympathized with her being a victim. I was sure I would defend her honor and rip anyone to shreds if they so much as talked about her past. I would love her till I died, yet, I struggled with it.

Logic told me my feelings were justified, but I felt like one of those men who left their partners after they had been raped. I hated myself for being that way.

After spending barely an hour on fishing, I rounded up my gear and headed back to my holiday house. When I tried to take a nap, my mind stayed alert and buzzed with images that I so badly wanted to shake off.

The only time I forgot was when I got drunk. It numbed the aching, lessened my torment, and allowed me to snatch a few hours of dreamless slumber.

Somehow, I always awoke at around 4 a.m. Alone in the dark, I would think about Cruikshank, Olga, Liefie, and Aristov. I mulled over their sordid lives, and whenever I saw Liefie’s face, Olga’s face – with her sneering smile and her trademark red lipstick – suddenly appeared and their faces merged.

That freaked me out something terrible and I had to remind myself that they were two different people regardless of their consanguineous unit.

My inner turmoil raged:

Liefie is a victim and I am her knight in shining armor. Without me, she was doomed for the rest of her life. I’m saving her here. I’m a true-life action hero without a cape and mask.