Separating Riches (17 page)

She opened her mouth as if to say something, but then nodded. We walked back to the bartender and Blackie called for a cab, while I ordered a pizza. It was going to be a long afternoon.

Chapter Thirteen

Love Letter to My Wife — Melinda Blackstone-Livingston

Arriving home was surreal. Norma and George were happy to see me, and as much as I loved them, it was a hollow reception because Chris wasn’t there. I filled them in on what Meg and I had learned so far, but then all I wanted to do was retreat to my room and be alone for a few minutes. Just as I closed my bedroom door, there was a knock. Charlotte was balancing a tray in her hands.

“Ma’am, I know you said you weren’t hungry, but I took the liberty of bringing you a bowl of your favorite ice cream.”

Charlotte sat the tray on the nightstand, and then left without a word. The cinnamon and snickerdoodles ice cream from Bi-Rite Creamery, here in San Francisco, is the best ice cream anywhere, but I just didn’t have the energy to eat it.

Instead, I sat down on the bed and pulled over my laptop, opened it up and stared at the keys on the keyboard. I wanted, no I
needed
to compose an email that would tell Chris how much I loved her. How sorry I was, and how much I missed her. The words were all there, but the stakes were so high that I didn’t know how to say what needed to be said.

Dear Christine,

First off, let me say, I LOVE YOU! I’m on my knees begging you, come back to me!
Nah, to desperate.
But I am desperate!
DELETE

Dear Chris,

Please forgive me! It wasn’t me! I don’t know who it was, but…
No, damn it, speak from the heart.
DELETE

Chris,

My heart is broken because you think I’ve broken yours. How I wish I could hold you right now and profess my love for you. But I know you aren’t able to accept it at the moment. And baby, that’s okay. Do what you need to do to get through this, but don’t let go of me. Please… don’t let go.

I’m working with Meg to prove my love for you has never faltered. She thinks I’m guilty of cheating on you, but Chris, why would I cheat when I have you? No, I did not cheat, I did not drink, and I did not, and will never, stop loving you.

Last week when we were married, and said
I do
to each other in front of our family and friends, I took to heart the words that Norma said to us about love, trust, and understanding. I’m asking you to love me still, to trust me even though you feel that your trust has been betrayed, and to understand that I don’t believe it has been, because I did not consciously betray you.

The first time I saw you, you took my breath away. It wasn’t just your beauty. It was the light that shined through you, the strength that carried you, and the heart that saw into my soul. You saw in me what no one else ever had, or could, and I pray that you can see I’m telling the truth now.

I am fighting for you, baby, and I live for the day when you walk into my arms and say that you believe me.

I love you,

Melinda

I read and reread the email. I tried to envision Chris as she read it, and I hoped she would see my love for her. I hoped I could convince her of my innocence with my words but I knew that was not going to be very likely, considering what everyone says I did. Finally, with a whispered prayer, I hit the send button.

Tug of War — Chris Blackstone-Livingston
and
Felicia & Carl Livingston

The texts had stopped. Melinda hadn’t texted me in hours and I felt so disconnected, so lonely. Even though I didn’t answer the texts, I still looked forward to them as a way to be with her.
Maybe she emailed me instead.
The battery on my cellphone was dead from checking for texts every five minutes, so I left it charging and walked into Mom’s office and sat down at her computer. Pulling up my email, I scanned through the spam, and saw a few emails from my friends, but nothing from Melinda. The tears were instant and unwelcomed. That’s all I had been doing since I came home. My mind was stressed to the limit with the tug of war I felt inside. She was having an affair. She wasn’t having an affair.
Good Lord, what should I do? Please, send me a sign.

“Want some ice cream, honey?”

Mom interrupted my prayer with a bribe. Not the sign I was looking for, but not altogether unwanted either.

“Sure, Mom,” I said, getting up from the desk and joining her on the settee.

“How are you holding up, honey?” Mom asked.

She handed me a bowl of Rocky Road ice cream garnished with wafers and chunks of chocolate. As a kid, Mom would give me ice cream as my reward for a good grade, or for cleaning my room, but also if I was sad, she’d sit with me and we’d talk over a bowl of ice cream. It was Mom’s cure all, and it usually worked, but nothing was going to help now.

“I’m okay, Mom,” I said, pushing the spoon around in the melting chocolate. “I just wish someone would tell me what’s going on.”

“I know it’s hard to wait, honey, but Meg will call as soon as she knows something.”

“Mom, am I stupid to disbelieve what I saw with my own eyes?”

“No, you’re not. Not when there’s a chance someone staged the whole thing. You know as well as I do that you can’t just turn off what you feel for Melinda. You want to believe, you
have
to believe, and you should, until you learn otherwise.”

“I should be on my honeymoon right now, and instead, I’m at home, whining to my mother. What does that say for the future of my marriage?”

“Now you listen to me, Christine Dolores Livingston. Your future is what you make of it. Every marriage is tested, many times over. It’s getting past those tests and still feeling the same about her that will assure your marital future.”

I looked at her thoughtfully for a moment, soaking in her words. “You’re wrong, Mom,” I said, raising an eyebrow. “It’s Christine Dolores
Blackstone-Livingston
.”

Mom laughed. “That’s my girl.”

I heard a ding on the computer and remembered I had left my email account open. I sat my untouched bowl of ice cream on the coffee table and got up to investigate, just as Mom’s cellphone rang. I had just sat down at the computer, praying that I had an email from Melinda, when Mom brought her phone to me. It was my Dad calling to check up on me.

“Hey, kiddo. It looks like I need to work late again tonight, we’ve got another big merger that we’re working on, and so I wanted to check in on you. I’m sorry I missed seeing you this morning, but your mother told me what happened. Is there anything I can do, honey?”

“I’m okay, Dad. Just waiting to hear back from Meg,” I said as I looked at my inbox. My heart leaped when I saw Melinda’s name in bold.

“Well, you should plan on moving back in with us, and I’ve already retained the best divorce lawyer in the South for you. We’ll have it annulled so fast they won’t—”

“What? No, Dad!” I yelled, standing up excitedly. “You sound just like Mom, but that’s not going to happen.”

“She cheated on you only days after you married her. I don’t understand, why would you want to stay with her?”

“If there’s the slightest doubt, I have to give her a chance to prove to me she was set up.”

“You owe her that much?”

“No, Dad. I love her that much.”

“As your father, I’d say dump her. But as a married man in love with his wife, I’d say hold out until you know for sure.”

“I love you, Daddy,” I said, catching a tear dropping from my eye.

“I love you too, honey,” he said, and then hung up.

“Mom. Oh, Mom,” I pleaded, as I handed the phone back to her. “Please don’t let him think the worst of Melinda until we know for sure.”

“I won’t, honey,” she said, taking me into her arms. The comfort of my mother’s arms caused the tears to surface again.

Waiting. I Hate Waiting! — Melinda Blackstone-Livingston
, George Kirk, Norma Shelby,
and
Meg Baumgartner

An hour later, I was still sitting on my bed, waiting for that familiar ding telling me that Chris replied to my email.
Why hasn’t she emailed me yet?
It was a pathetic scene. My cellphone was clutched in my hand, waiting on a call from Meg, and my laptop was on my lap, waiting for Chris’ email.

An hour ago, I didn’t want company, thinking that I wanted to be alone with my thoughts. But the only thing I could think about was how lonely I was without Chris. How could it be that a year ago I scoffed at love and commitment, and now I was miserable without it?

I had an urge to get up and pace. I climbed out of bed, stuffed my phone in my jeans pocket and went downstairs. I had the latest-greatest cellphone and could use it as a mini-laptop, so I knew I wouldn’t miss Chris’ email.
Or maybe she’ll call instead?

I found Norma in the living room, dozing in what we had designated as Norma’s recliner, with both of the kittens rolled up in a ball, sleeping in her lap. What a sweet sight that was, the three of them so content that they could sleep so blissfully. That was comforting to me for some reason. Not wanting to disturb them, I left and went to the game room. When I saw the pool table, I stopped and stood there, I’m not sure for how long. The table was like every other pool table, but now, it had taken on a life of its own.

“If you’re not guilty, Blackie, that table shouldn’t bother you,” George said from behind me.

I turned, ready to rip him a new one, but stopped when I saw his face. There was no smirk, no smile on his face. Only concern.

“Back off, George,” I warned. “I’m wound tight and ready to beat the shit out of anyone who looks at me.”

George shielded his eyes. “Okay, I get that,” he said, peeking through his fingers. “So, how about racking them up? Blind man’s pool game.”

Laughing, I nodded, and walked over to the table. “You can break, George.”

“It’s a shame this room doesn’t have a punching bag, like you have at home,” he said, as he positioned the cue ball.

“Well, anymore snide remarks like that and you’ll be my punching bag,” I joked.

“So I take it you’ve not heard from Meg yet?” he asked.

“No, I haven’t heard from Meg, or the blood test, or Chris. If I could only hear from Chris, I wouldn’t stress as much about the other two.”

“Blackie, it’s too soon yet. Chris is hurting, too. She’s confused, and I imagine, very emotional. Give her some time to understand what’s going on.”

“I’m trying, George,” I replied, hitting the cue ball with such force that it bounced off the table and straight at George. Thankfully he dodged it and it bounced off the wall, finally coming to rest at his feet. “I’m sorry, George. I didn’t mean to do that.”

“Thank God, because my life flashed before my eyes, and I didn’t like what I saw.”

“Why, what did you see?” I asked.

“A lot of unfinished business,” he replied.

“I can totally relate.” My cellphone rang and I snatched it up. “Chris?”

“No, it’s Meg.”

“Meg! Did you find out anything?” I asked.

“Yes and no. I’m on my way over. I’m just calling to make sure you are there.”

“I’m here, but tell me now,” I demanded.

“No, it would take too long. Just stay put, I’ll be there in a few minutes,” Meg said.

Before I could argue more, she had hung up. “Damn it!”

“What? What did Meg tell you?” George asked excitedly, sinking another solid ball in the pocket.

“She told me to stay put and wait. Damn it,” I repeated. “When will this fucking nightmare end!”

“Waiting has never been your strong suit, Blackie, but you have to keep the faith that what you’re waiting for will be worth the wait.”

“Wait, what?” I teased. “That’s a hell of a lot of waiting you’re asking me to do, George.”

“What choice do you have, Blackie?” he questioned.

“None. I have had no choice in any of this, and it’s pissing me off. I’m at Meg’s mercy, which is hard enough.”

“Regardless of what she thinks about you, she will do what it takes to protect Chris,” George theorized.

“And that’s the fucking problem,” I barked. “I should be the one protecting Chris. Me, not someone who hates me, like Meg does.”

“I don’t think Meg hates you, per se. I think she has not had an opportunity to like you yet.”

“George, you’re driving me crazy with your double speak.”

“Good, at least it keeps you distracted. I just sunk the eight ball. Another round?”

*

Another hour passed. It felt more like twenty hours. Now, not only did I have to wait, knowing Meg had information for me, but I was trapped at that house, imprisoned in my nightmare. Still no word from Chris, and my heart was sinking fast. I thought that with Meg investigating my case, Chris would wait for me. She would see the lengths I would go through to prove my love for her. But as each minute ticked away, I could feel her pulling away from me.