Out With The Old, In With The New. Nancy Thompson Robards

confirming every inkling of doubt I’ve had for the past three weeks.

      Ask your husband what he’s been doing all those nights he claimed to be at the hospital.

      No!

      Believe him or leave him.

      “I believe he was called in on an emergency. Could you check one more time, please? It’s urgent.”

      I’m shaking. Not a little quiver, but huge quaking shudders racking my entire body. I hold on the line, feeling small and sure that the operator knows how pathetically insecure I am. Yet, I have the mental clarity to wonder what I’m going to say to him if somehow, miraculously, Corbin’s voice comes on the line.

      But deep down I know my husband’s not at the hospital. I have no idea where he is or who he’s with.

      “Mrs. Hennessey, I spoke with the charge nurse and she says Dr. Hennessey hasn’t been in all evening. Have you tried paging him?”

      No. I don’t want to talk to him. I want to know if he’s where he told the sitter he’d be. “That’s a great idea.”

      “May I take a message in case he comes in?”

      I’m slipping, melting from the inside out.

      “No, thank you. I’m out of town. I must have misunderstood his schedule for this evening.”

      “Well then, have a good night.”

      CHAPTER 4

       Picture Thelma and Louise chauffeured by Lorena Bobbitt. That’s what we look like as we drive back to Orlando from Palm Beach.

      We check out of the Breakers at two o’clock in the morning after Rainey and Alex discover me collapsed in an inconsolable, sobbing heap.

      I don’t want Rainey and Alex to leave because of me, and I’m perfectly prepared to rent a car and drive myself. They won’t have any part of staying.

      “Whether we come with you or not, the weekend is ruined,” says Alex.

      “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come in the first place.”

      “No, that’s not what I meant, Kate.” She takes me by the shoulders and forces me to look at her. “I know I speak for Rainey, too, when I say we can’t stay here and let you go home to this situation alone. You’re in no condition to drive. Besides, we want to be with you when you catch the bastard with his pants down.”

      I dissolve all over again.

      Rainey murmurs, “Shut up. You’re making it worse.” She sits down next to me on the couch and hugs me. “It’s going to be okay, Kate. You’re a strong lady. You’ll be fine. Until you can stand on your own, we’re here for you.”

      I try to sit up and realize snot is stringing from my nose. I try to wipe it away with the back of my hand. Alex hands me a tissue.

      “God, I’m ruining everything—”

      “You’re not,” says Alex. “We’ll reschedule for another time. Right now, we have more important matters to tend to.”

      Rainey sits with me in the backseat and every so often she reaches out and squeezes my hand. The drive from Palm Beach is taking an eternity, as if I’m stuck in a surreal time warp. Rainey gave me a Valium before we left. I’m sure that’s why everything has a soft-focus, blunted feel. It would be good if we were stuck in a time warp. I wouldn’t have to face him.

      Just when I’ve convinced myself this is a bad dream that will be over soon, Alex hisses something like, “That no-good, dirty, lying, son of a bitch,” and I’m jolted back to the here and now.

      As Alex’s black Mercedes rolls over the endless black ribbon of Florida Turnpike, all I can think of is how Corbin lied to me.

      To us.

      To our family.

      My forehead is pressed to the cool window. The car is eerily silent except for the rhythmic wrrrrrrrr of car wheels spinning over flat highway. Alex doesn’t turn on the radio. We all settle into a companionable silence. The headlights shining across the median hurt my eyes. I squint as another car speeds by. Thank goodness there’s not much traffic at this hour.

      My eyes feel heavy, threaten to close. I’m so sleepy, but I don’t want to sleep, because if I do, the next time I open my eyes we’ll be back in Orlando. If I can only stay awake… It’s the Valium—and the wine and the hour—tempting me to drift…off.

      “Where did you get the Valium?” I ask, not lifting my head from the window.

      “I have a good doctor.”

      This time I can’t distinguish if my silent tears fall because of the way the words good doctor stab at my heart, or because I’m thankful to have these women in my life.

      A while later I startle awake to the sound of Rainey’s voice. “There could be a logical explanation.”

      They think I’m asleep. I was asleep. Damn it, how long did I sleep? I shift my head ever so slightly until I can see Alex’s brown eyes looking at Rainey in the neon-green glow of the lighted rearview mirror.

      My neck hurts, and I long to sit up and rub it, but I don’t move because if I do they’ll stop talking. I wait for one of them to say something, to reveal the logical explanation my life is depending on. There must be something obvious I’ve missed. Please, please enlighten me.

      “Maybe he’s truly been called out on an emergency.”

      Alex answers with dead silence. Her dark eyes look black as they alternately shift from the rearview mirror, to the road, back to the mirror. I get the creepy sensation that I’m stuck in a scene from a bizarre David Lynch movie. Especially when I hear Alex groan.

      Or maybe it’s me.

      Being on this side of the truth feels a lot different than I imagined before I dared let my mind venture into the what-ifs of the dark, lonely place inhabited by scorned wives. Speculating on Corbin’s infidelity was like standing atop a cliff overlooking a tumultuous ocean. Finding out is like falling headfirst and crashing into the waves and rocks below.

      “Why doesn’t she just call his cell phone?” Rainey says.

      “No. That’s the worst thing she could do. She was smart not to. If he’s not at the hospital and she calls him on the cell he’ll have time to concoct some cockamamie story to cover his ass. This way, she can get some answers.”

      The unspoken words good answers or bad answers loom over me like henchmen.

      Alex holds the steering wheel with her left hand and digs in her purse with the other until she pulls out her cell phone. She holds it up. “Rainey, take this and scroll through my phone numbers until you get Hal Washington.”

      The Mercedes swerves a little. It shimmies as Alex returns to her lane.

      “Hey, watch out. Both hands on the wheel.” Rainey takes the phone.

      “That’s why I’m asking you to find the number and dial it for me.”

      “Why are you calling this guy now? It’s three-thirty in the morning.”

      “Believe me, Washington thrives at this hour.”

      “What is he, a vampire?”

      “Close. He’s a P.I. I’m going to get him to tail Corbin.”

      Rainey leans forward and wraps her arms around the passenger headrest. “Shouldn’t you ask Kate if that’s what she wants before you hire a detective on her behalf? I mean, it’s a big deal. And it could be a little pricey.”

      “Washington owes me a favor. Actually, several, but who’s counting? The sooner Kate knows for sure, the better.”

      I sit up. The crick in my neck screams. “A P.I. could also prove whether