That Morning

Nick is rifling around in our closet. I turn my chair to watch him, trying to figure out what he’s doing. “What are you doing?”

“I need to borrow your boots.” “My boots?”

“I’m going to help this guest dig her car out and she doesn’t have any boots. I’ll bring them back when she’s done with them.”

My jaw tightens, as I remember watching that woman’s pretty face through my binoculars last night. “Is it really necessary for you to dig her car out?”

“I told her I’d help. Although honestly, I don’t think she’s going anywhere until the plow comes.”

“Well, gee, that’s so nice of you.” I don’t even try to keep the edge out of my voice.

Nick retrieves my fur lined black boots from the closet. I remember how warm those boots used to be. I could go out in deep snow, and I wouldn’t even feel it. Of course, I wouldn’t feel it now either since I can’t feel my feet at all.

“Rosie,” he says patiently. “I have to help her. Don’t be difficult about this.”

“Oh, am I being difficult?” He frowns. “Yes. You are.”

“Strange. Why would I be upset because my husband wants to help a beautiful young woman with her car?”

He drops the boots on the ground and sits down heavily on the bed. “Don’t do this. Please.”

“Do what?”

“I’ve been faithful, okay?” He looks me in the eyes. “I haven’t touched another woman since… Anyway, it’s not like you’ve done anything to help.”

“Help what?” I stare back at him. “I’m stuck here in this room all the time. What am I supposed to do?”

“For starters, get out of this goddamn room. Let me turn the dining room downstairs into a bedroom. Let me convert the kitchen at Rosalie’s and we can open it back up—”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I punch my fist into my knee so hard, it kicks up a spasm. But I just ignore it. “You act like it’s all so easy. It’s not easy.”

“I know it’s not easy, but—”

“You don’t know.” My right leg trembles with a muscle spasm. “Look, I don’t want to have this conversation. Go give that woman my boots. Let her keep them, for all I care. It’s not like I’m ever going to use them again.”

I expect him to keep arguing with me, like he often does. But instead, he gets back on his feet. “Fine,” he snaps. Then he picks up the boots and stomps out the door.

Every step he takes echoes through the entire house until the front door slams shut.

After he leaves, I wheel myself over to the window. And I grab my binoculars. I shouldn’t watch them, but I can’t help myself. Worrying about Nick cheating on me again has become an obsession. When we were young, I always trusted him. I was never jealous. Now it’s all I can think about.

I peer through my binoculars, searching for that woman’s car. She parked it in the lot by Rosalie’s. It’s a strange thing to do, considering the motel has its own lot. Why would she have parked at Rosalie’s, which is boarded up? And she didn’t just park at Rosalie’s, she parked all the way around back.

What does she have to hide?

A few minutes later, I see the two of them come into view. The woman is wearing a thick coat, but I remember

catching that glimpse of her in room 203. She’s beautiful. And Nick knows it.

Mostly, they’re digging out her car. Nick is doing most of the work, because he’s big and strong and he always wants to help. I watch their lips move through the binoculars. They’re talking. At one point, he laughs at something she says.

When is the last time I’ve seen Nick laugh? I swear, it’s got to have been a year, at least.

They would make a good couple. They look better together than Nick and I do these days, that’s for sure. I’m sure he feels some sort of tug of attraction towards her. He’s got to be tempted.

Before I can stop myself, I reach for my phone. I select his number and wait for it to ring. Through the binoculars, I can tell he feels it buzzing in his pocket. He steps away from the car, pulls out his phone and looks at the number. Will he take my call when he’s with his beautiful motel guest?

He does.

“Rosie?” he says. “What’s wrong?”

“Having fun digging out that car? Maybe you should have a snowball fight.”

There’s a long pause on the other line. “I’m just helping her dig out her car, Rosie. She’s stuck in the snow.”

“I’ll bet.”

“Come on, Rosie. That’s not fair.” “Fair to whom?”

He lets out a long sigh. “What do you want me to do? I have to help. It’s the decent thing to do.”

“Right. And you always do the decent thing, don’t you, Nick?”

He doesn’t take the bait, which makes my words seem jealous and petty. “I’ll be done here soon. Is there something you need?”

“Tell your little friend to keep my boots. They look good on her.”

Nick raises his eyes to look up at our house. I quickly lower the binoculars, even though he can’t possibly tell I have them from all the way over there. If he knew I was spying on him with binoculars… Well, I’m not sure what he would do. Probably nothing. But the whole thing is embarrassing.

“I’ll be back later,” he mumbles. Then he disconnects the call.

Even though I shouldn’t, I keep watching them. They don’t quite manage to get her car unstuck, which isn’t surprising because we got hit hard by snow. But it means they return to the motel together. At one point, she stumbles in the snow and he catches her.

She’s still got my boots on. I wonder if she really will keep them. The thought is like a knife in my chest.

I doze off after that. I always get so tired in the afternoon. Sometimes if Nick is around, I ask him to put me back in bed, but most of the time, I just sleep in my wheelchair. It’s easier that way.

When I wake up, Nick is in her room.

I reach into the drawer by the bed and pull out my binoculars so I can get a better look. They’re sitting together on the bed. No, not just sitting together. He’s rubbing her back. They’re talking, but I can’t hear what they’re saying.

I wonder if I can persuade Greta to put a listening device in room 203.

No. Too far.

My heart is pounding as I watch him. But Nick isn’t doing anything wrong. They’re just sitting together and talking. There’s nothing wrong with talking.

Until they start kissing.