Memoir of an Affair

She woke refreshed and ready for the day, already knowing what to expect because she had planned it the day before. The kids were up on time, had eaten breakfast, and were ready to head out for school. Dinner was already planned and would be ready by the time Victor got home at 5 p.m. She took pride in her ability to keep a house and be a mother and a wife. And she did all this as well as working full time. Everything was as it should be. She smiled to herself as she thought of her accomplishments, wished her kids a great day as she dropped them off at school, and reminded them how much she loved them. She was happy. Yet, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was not right. She told herself that she was being silly. For in the face of all the facts of her existence there wasn't any reason to doubt or to fear. Today was going to be a good day. As she pulled into her assigned parking space and in the peace and solitude of her car, her heart whispered: "I have a feeling..."

As she walked from her car to the office building, she mentally itemized the tasks for the day. She swiped her badge, releasing the locking mechanism, and pulled open the door as a gush of sealed air swept over her body, brushing golden strands across her face. The door slowly closed, and thumped, pushing another burst against her back. The lock engaged with a click. She reached up with her right hand, combing each tress back in place. Her left eye welled up; irritated by a single strand floating across the sapphire gem. Fingers searching for this single strand eventually untangled the ends from the freshly painted lashes.

Patricia stopped at the kitchenette, turning on the coffee maker. She grabbed a cup and a packet of ginger chamomile tea. The paper envelope hissed, releasing the spicy fragrance as she pulled the paper tab unwinding the string. The netted herbs infused with the hot water bled quickly out releasing wafts of ginger. Patricia allowed the tea to steep as she filled the fanned filter with coffee grounds. The rich Columbian beans joining the chorus of morning brews. The coffee set to brew, Patricia removed the tea bag from her steaming cup; adding honey before securing a lid. Lunch safely stored in the refrigerator she continued onto the Executive Suite.

Patricia loved this time of day. The office quietly hummed as air flowed through the vents. The hum grew louder as Patricia walked by printers and copy machines turning them on. The morning light streaming through the blinds of the windows provided enough light that Patricia could navigate without turning the fluorescents on. She sat down at her mahogany desk flipping on the computer and monitor. As the computer booted up she checked for voice mails and turned off the do not disturb of the office phone. She unlocked her desk, filing cabinets, and overhead shelves before returning to her computer to check for emails and review the day’s agenda. She was now ready for the day.

Today was the end of the pay period, which meant she would start receiving time-off requests and time records from the Executive Staff and Management. She pulled out the bi-weekly checklist and began working through the items to close the period and process hours. She had about an hour before David would arrive to work on the payroll and then she would be in a meeting with David and the rest of the staff for about two hours. She worked quickly and efficiently, ensuring that each step was executed accurately. The time went by quickly.

“Good Morning, Speedy!” David had arrived, greeting Patricia with a broad grin.

“How’s the morning going?”

“We are off to a good start. Besides the agenda, is there anything else we need for this morning’s meeting?”

“Can we have a sample of the Head Count Report and Analysis that you have been working on? I want the staff to have an opportunity to review it before we begin sending it out to the Divisions.”

“Got it! I will have a set for each of us printed right away.”

David turned away, walking to his office. His frame and height filled the doorway, blocking all the natural light that had been beaming through. Patricia watched him as he flipped the office lights on and walked to his desk. His stature not diminishing even when he sat at his desk. He fussed around with the business card holder, reminding her that she need to check on the order she had placed last week reflecting his new title and the name change of the company:

David A Demont

Executive VP Human Resources

Thompson Multimedia

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Later that day, while working on a company-wide communication, a tall blonde woman approaches her desk and asks:

"Are you Patricia Gonzales?"

She answers "Yes."

"Is your sister LeAnn Nakai?"

"Yes."

The woman begins to explain who she is and how she found Patricia - Social Media - FaceBook.

Realizing that this conversation was going to be of a personal nature, Patricia suggests that they speak somewhere more private.

Patricia and the woman find a corner table in the cafeteria. The woman pulls out an envelope and hands it to Patricia, suggesting that she examine the contents. In the envelope, she discovers pictures and letters. The pictures contain images of her husband and her sister's husband with other women. Included with the pictures, are letters and emails, revealing the nature of the relationships between the women and their husbands.

Patricia remains calm, absorbing all that she sees and hears. Asks logical questions and remains in this calm logical state until the woman leaves.

Returns to work - while photocopying she bursts into tears - a sound of tremendous grief and despair escapes from her lips, causing alarm throughout the Executive wing. Three of the Executive Assistants come to her aid immediately. In tears and broken sentences, Patricia reveals the source of her sorrow. Over the next several hours she completes a mental list:

• Makes copies of the photos
• Researches phone records
• Calls her Dad on the cell phone from the car
• Calls her friends
• Picks up kids and takes them to friends to stay the night
• Returns to house, plastering every surface with copies of the pictures
• Books a hotel room

She spends the evening hoping that her sister is fine and hopes that it is not true.

Most of all she hopes that her secret fear is not coming true: she is afraid that her husband would leave her for another woman. This fear exists because she was not the first to have children with him and she had been left by another man many years before. She has never shared this fear because she didn't want to give life to it.

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And the Jew’s passover was at hand,

Lust had warped the heart of Victor. He cared more for his own selfish desires than he did for his wife and children. Caring nothing for Patricia, why should he care for his home and marriage? He had converted the marriage vows into empty promises and buried the beautiful and loving moments shared with her beneath the ashy remains of infidelity.

And found in the temple those that Sold oxen and sheep and doves,

The lies that continued to fuel the tempest of emotion welled up from the pit of her stomach; while her heart churned wildly.

And the changers of money sitting

Trying to remain calm, Patricia took long deep breaths; hoping the practice would douse and calm the firestorm raging within.

And when he had made a scourge Of small cords

Continuing to breathe purposefully, Patricia walked to the kitchen and opened the cupboard door; pulling out the plates that were a gift from her mother-in-law on their wedding day.

He drove them all out of the temple,

She walked back through the kitchen, dining room, living room and out the front door.

And the sheep, and the oxen,

Standing in the driveway she flung the first plate against the masonry wall her father-in-law built.

And poured out the changers’ money

The second plate was tossed into the air landing on the driveway that her husband had poured ten years before. Shards of stoneware flying, scattering, and bouncing in the air and across concrete slabs. Each plate meeting its end. Some plates thrown like a baseball blasted and echoed as the powerful contact of ceramic to cement continued. Even though she began to tire the act of destroying each plate in rapid succession released the anger from his betrayal; subsiding into the rhythmic ebb and flow of calming waves against the shore.

And overthrew the tables;

The plates completely destroyed looked like icy snow. Patricia turned round following the sidewalk poured by her husband around the house to the shed. She pulled out the push broom and dust pan. Returning to the murderous scene, she methodically swept the remains into a pile; scooping the tiny and large alike into the pan and then into the trash barrel.

And said unto them that sold doves;

Take these things hence; make not my

Father’s house an house of merchandise.

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It had been a week and they still were not speaking. He tried, but she couldn't even look at him.

Patricia spent a lot of time reflecting back on the past year wondering if there had been any indication that Victor was being unfaithful. How could she have been so blind? She tormented herself every waking moment with this question. She called her dad frequently when she struggled and needed the sound of reason.

She knew at least two things: she still loved Victor and she could forgive him, and she was not going to permit this type of betrayal again. Second, things were going to change.

Without really thinking she got in her car and drove to the salon. When she arrived she saw that Hannah was working and asked if she had time to cut her hair.

"What would you like me to do?" Hannah inquired with her usual smile.

"I want something short and sassy," Patricia had in her mind that she needed to change everything, including her appearance. Hannah tilted her head while looking at her and said:

"I can do that. Are you sure, though? You have such beautiful hair."

Patricia nodded and smiled as she was directed towards the basins in the back. She took a seat and leaned back as Hannah reclined the chair and scooped the golden tresses into her hands. This was by far Patricia's favorite part of the salon experience. Hannah gently wet her hair and then massaged the shampoo into her scalp. The slow rhythmic movement lulled Patricia into a twilight sleep and her mind began to sift through the images of betrayal that had eluded her before.

Victor had taken a "business trip" north and had been difficult to reach on his cell phone. When he would return her calls he would be speaking in hushed tones.

This memory caused her to scowl.

"Are you okay? Is the water too hot?" Hannah's voice echoed the concern.

"Oh, no. It's perfect. My mind is just wandering."

Hannah rinsed the shampoo from the now red locks and applied conditioner with the same gentle touch…

Victor was texting someone on Mother's Day and when asked who he was texting he didn't answer. He glared at her and then locked his phone.

He locked his phone.

He locked his phone? Patricia's furrowed brow returned.

"Patricia, are you okay?"

"Hannah, I just have a lot on my mind today."

Hannah directed Patricia to the styling chair and asked again "Are you sure you want me to cut your hair?"

Looking directly into the mirror she nodded slowly and closed her eyes as the first clip chanted:

"Never..."

and the next:

"Never..."

and the next:

"Never..."

and then Patricia added:

"Never again," a single tear escaped from the corner of her eye and slowly descended past her cheek to her quivering lips. She opened her eyes to see if Hannah noticed. Relieved that Hannah was looking down at the ends of freshly trimmed hair, Patricia brushed the tear aside and quickly closed her eyes so that Hannah would not see that her usually blue eyes were now tear-stained green.

********************************************************************** In the dimly lit dining room a silent figure shrouded in despair stared at her phone weighing the pros and cons of calling the mysterious number on the phone bill.

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Her father had told her to stand by him. Finding a way to forgive him would…

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