Our Thanksgiving banquet is almost ready.
I’ve changed into something a little fancier than my jeans and sweatshirt, but not much—I didn’t bring any fancy clothes with me and I’m not about to go foraging in Victoria’s closet, even though Adam assured me it would be fine. Also, I don’t want to show up Victoria. This is her home, and she deserves to be the best-dressed person here.
The only thing left to do is to bring Victoria downstairs for the feast. Except when I get upstairs, it seems like that part is not going to be so easy.
Adam is attempting to lift Victoria the way he does when he brings her downstairs for me to take her for a walk. But she is resisting him as violently as she can. She’s shoving him away and yelling, “No! NO!”
I’m impressed by how effectively she is resisting him with only one working arm that doesn’t even seem to work very well. She even gets her left leg into the mix. She finally lands one good kick at his shin, and he takes a step back, swearing under his breath. His face is bright pink.
“For Christ’s sake, Vicky!” He rubs his shin. “We’ve got a whole meal downstairs. Don’t you want to enjoy it with us?”
“No.” She shoots me what seems like a meaningful look. “No. No.”
Adam glances over at me. “She really kicked me hard. I don’t know what to do.”
“No, “ Victoria says again. “No. I… No.”
“I think it’s pretty clear she doesn’t want to come downstairs,” I say. He grits his teeth. “She doesn’t know what she wants.”
“I think she does.”
He narrows his eyes at Victoria. “Fine. If you don’t want to come, just stay up here. But we’re not bringing you food. You’re going straight to bed.”
I hate the way he’s talking to her like she’s a child. I want to volunteer to bring Victoria some food later tonight and help her eat, but Adam seems determined to make his point. So he sends me downstairs while he gets Victoria into bed, gives her some tube feeds, and administers her medications. Usually, it takes him an hour to get through her bedtime
routine, but he’s downstairs in half an hour. It makes me wonder what he skipped out on.
In the meantime, I’ve brought all the food out to the dining table and set our places. As his eyes rake over the table, I feel a twinge of anxiety. I remember how he exploded when Victoria started the spaghetti that night. Will he blow up at me for bringing the food out? He’s already in a bad mood over Victoria refusing to come downstairs. So I brace myself.
“Hey,” he says. “You brought all the food out.” I take a step back. “Yes…”
A smile touches his lips. “That’s great. Now we can eat right away.”
I let out of breath—there was no explosion. Of course, Adam has never yelled at me for anything. If I didn’t read Victoria’s diary, I would think he’s the most mild-mannered guy I’ve ever met. You never know what’s lurking under the surface, I guess. And I’m scared about what he’s going to say when I tell him that he and I can’t be together anymore.
But I must tell him. It can’t go on like this any longer.
I wait until we’re both stuffed with turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, and green beans. And wine. Lots of wine. The dinner was nice. Adam seemed a little bit miffed about the Victoria situation in the beginning, but then he settled down and we had a nice conversation. It was a lovely night. But I couldn’t stop thinking of Victoria upstairs in her bed.
“This was really fun,” Adam says to me as he leans back in his chair, full and contented. He casually rests his hand on top of mine.
“Yeah.” I ease my hand away from his as subtly as I can. “It was… nice.”
“All I want to do is go straight to bed.…”
Okay, this can’t wait another minute. I have to tell him. It’s wrong not
to.
“Listen, Adam,” I say. “There’s something I need to tell you.” He’s quiet for a moment, studying my face. “I know.”
“You know?”
“I’m crazy about you, Sylvia.” He rubs at the stubble on his chin. “But
I’m not completely oblivious. I know you don’t feel the same way.” “It’s not that I don’t feel the same way exactly, but…”
“It’s Victoria,” he says without my having to say it. “I know. It’s a weird situation. I shouldn’t have put you in that position.” He shakes his
head. “In my defense, I wouldn’t have done it if I wasn’t so goddamn lonely.”
He’s not angry. He’s not yelling at me or exploding. He’s making me feel sorry to be ending things. I know he’s been very lonely. And I know that our brief relationship made him happy.
“No hard feelings.” He sticks out his hand so I can shake it. “Friends?” I reach out to grasp his hand. His feels warm and firm in mine. Am I making a mistake? Maybe Adam has changed from the guy who blew up at
Victoria over nothing. He doesn’t seem that way at all right now.
But either way, this is the right thing to do. I can’t stay with him. He’s
married to Victoria.
Adam and I work together in silence to clear the dishes away from the table. I stash the leftovers in the fridge, then I go back out to get the glasses we used. On the way out of the kitchen, my eyes are drawn to that dent on the wall. The one Adam claimed was caused by moving the refrigerator.
Victoria said in her diary that he threw a plate and it smashed into the wall, creating a dent.
I stare at the imperfection in the plaster. Was it caused by a refrigerator or a plate? I can’t tell.
I’m not sure if I’ll ever know for sure what happened in this house.
