Like someone flicking on a light switch, my wife suddenly had a spark. I know it is crazy. I know it is not normal to be depressed and then suddenly snap out of it just because an orphaned baby shows up on your front door. I know it’s not normal to be on the birth certificate of a baby, from a woman you’ve never met before. I know these things. I have also come to learn how hard it is to be the glue holding a marriage together, walking around on eggshells, and always having to be the positive one just to help your significant other get through depression. When I saw my wife smile for the first time since June, it felt like some pressure valve in my life was released, and suddenly good thing can start happening again. I don’t know how else to explain it. That feeling, though, is exactly why I didn’t immediately react or question things. My wife excitedly suggested we go to the store and buy baby things. She mentioned that we both couldn’t go since we didn’t even have a car seat yet, so she put together a shopping list and sent me on my way.
Feeling like a zombie, I trudged my way through the large department store. Loading whatever I could in the cart, having associates meet me at the front with larger items, like the crib. I didn’t look at any of the prices. I just bought. People smiled, said thank you, I think someone even said congratulations. I nodded, everyone’s face a haze in my memory. Nothing here felt normal, but most likely looked to be the most ordinary thing in the planet. When I got home, I installed the car seats in both of our vehicles. I spent far too long with a cheap allen wrench and poorly drawn instructions putting the crib together. This would have been a perfect day a year ago. It’s hard to admit, but a part of me likes performing these tasks. I hear my wife downstairs feeding some formula with the new bottle I bought at the store. I could hear her rooting through the bag of food that I also picked up. I have no idea what babies this age eat, so I got everything I could find.
Before long, the baby was asleep, lying in the middle of our bed, my wife lying next to her, just watching her sleep. Glowing. The last time I saw her even close to this happy was on our wedding day.
I know what is happening is wrong. Legally, however, this baby is somehow mine, and that’s just good enough for my wife. When I try to tell her that I never cheated on her, I have no idea, she just gets dismissive. Says how it doesn’t matter either way, she’s just happy we have something in our lives now. I do nothing the entire weekend. I know I’ll have to do something on Monday, but for now, I just wanted a break. Call it cowardly if you wish, it likely is. I am just tired. Saturday and Sunday night were the best night's sleep I’ve ever had. The baby did wake up once or twice those nights, but my wife was extremely quick to respond and just told me to go back to sleep.
Monday, I went to work. My wife stayed home with Octavia. On my way, I started thinking about that name, and how much I liked it. Routine started to set in, and I walked into the office as if it were any other day. When I walked in, it felt like a scene from an old western movie. The whole room got quiet, and everyone turned and looked at me. I walked to my cubicle, hearing murmurs pass as I walk. Almost immediately, I received an email from my boss, Roger, stating he needed to see me in his office immediately. I closed my email, and walked to my bosses’ office. I could still feel everyone’s eyes on me. His assistant was waiting outside, as soon as I approached, she waved me in, opened the door right away, and patted me on the shoulder and said she was so sorry as I walked in the office. Inside was Roger, Janet, the head of HR, and Robert, the branch president. Whenever we were in trouble, the office joke is that we always had to talk to the R’s.
“Jason, what the Hell are you doing here, man?” Roger burst out as soon as I took a seat.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s fine, Jason. She told us that you and her got close, and that the two of you carpooled to work in the morning, it’s why she requested to have the same shift as you. She said it made that easier.” Robert walked over and put his hand on my shoulder while sitting on the edge of his desk.
“You aren’t in trouble, Jason. She worked in HR, she did all the paperwork documenting that you had interoffice relationship. It’s all documented. Aella was always good at the paperwork.” Janet chimed in.
“She put in paperwork that we were in a relationship?” I said, shocked.
“Like I said, we never judged.” Roger held his hands up to prove he was backing off.
“Your signature is on the paperwork. You saying this isn’t your signature?” Janet held up the relationship contract.
I examined it closely. “No, that is definitely my signature. It is my signature perfectly.”
“Good.” Janet started putting the paper away.
“Hold on, can I get a copy of that? I don’t think I ever got a copy for myself.”
“Yes, I’ll email you a copy as soon as this meeting is over.” Janet leaned back and pushed her glasses back up on her nose.
Robert finally spoke, “We want you to take the rest of the day and tomorrow off. No need to make anyone feel uncomfortable in the office, and no need for you to rush into anything. Here, we put people first, and you need your time to grieve.”
“I’ll leave as soon as I get a copy of the relationship form.” I said as I walked out.
As soon as I opened the door to the office, I saw people who were standing up and staring at the door suddenly duck back into their cubicles or pretend they were having a conversation with someone next to them. A form of entertainment in offices that I have always attempted to keep my distance from, but would have likely been really interested if it were someone else in my situation. I see now how it must look; A married man’s office romance ends with the mistress dead. I am sure there’ll be lots to talk about between work at their desks. I plopped down in my chair, suddenly feeling much more exhausted than when I came in. Waited for the “Ding” when Outlook has a new message. Pressed print on the relationship form, and grabbed it off the printer on my way out.
I sat in the car reading the relationship form. There was an incredible amount of detail on the form. Our addresses, where I would supposedly pick her up in the morning, how long we’ve been a couple. According to the form, we were dating since June 16th of 2016, which is exactly one year before the birth of Octavia. It was all written in her handwriting, with the exception of my signature, with printed name below it. I looked exactly like my handwriting and was a perfect copy of my signature. I looked at my watch. It was still really early, about 10:30 am. I looked at the relationship form again, staring at her address. I decided to go and check it out.
I plugged her address into the GPS on my phone, it informed me it’s about a 12 minute drive, I put my car in drive, and began following the directions. I don’t really know what I was expecting of the neighborhoods when I was heading to her place, but I was definitely heading into space with more parks, cleaner streets, and larger buildings. When the GPS finally told me my destination was 350 feet to the right, my heart started racing. Unsure as to what I was going to do, or what I was going to find, or how I was even going to get in to the front door, or if I even wanted to get in.
When I finally parked, I was in a parking lot for some nice looking apartments, and noticed that my car seemed rather out of place in the parking lot. It wasn’t a BMW or a Rolls-Royce. Just a red Subaru, sitting in a sea of silver and white cars looking a lot cleaner. Walking into the building, there was a front desk concierge. He was very tall and skinny, very dark complected and all smiles. I walked up to him, and he seemed to recognize me right away.
“Oh hello mister Jason. I am sad to finally meet you under such circumstances. I have heard so many things about you from Aella and seen your face in pictures many times. Always traveling for business you are!” He spoke with a thick accent as if he were from Zimbabwe.
After my meeting at work this morning, I know I simply have to play along to get any answers, “It’s a real shame, she will be missed by many. What do you know of the situation?”
“Not much, she came home one night and no longer wanted to be in this world.” He said with a noticeably deep sadness. “I liked her a lot. She was always nice to me.”
“It’s a mystery to me as well.” I read the name on his nametag. “Matu, do you think I’d be able to get in to the room?”
“Oh yes, of course mister Jason, you are the only person left on the deed now.”
“Deed?” Another document with my name on it, I am guessing.
“Yes. You and Aella owned this apartment together. You are both owners. I hope I didn’t ruin any surprises. Hard for me to know what you know when you are always traveling on business.”
“Do you think I could get a key, or into the room, Matu? I seem to have lost mine in all my traveling.”
“Of course! One moment.” He disappeared into the back room.
I take a seat on one of the chairs in the lobby. Burying my face in my hands. So now I own an upscale apartment? This week would feel like I would have won the lottery if these things weren’t apparently done with my name and signature. I heard the front door open, a man and a woman together, holding a tiny dog. They looked like your typical suburban couple. Dyed blonde hair, $80 cargo shorts. The dog has a nicer haircut than I do. I am startled out of my gaze by the man yelling in my direction.
“I thought we’d never meet the famous Jason!” He exclaimed exuberantly. “I am so sorry to hear about Aella. If there’s anything we can do, please let us know! We’ve heard so much about you, we feel like we know you already.”
“Please excuse Huxley,” the blonde woman said, “He doesn’t know how to talk to people, even when they are grieving. He’s not wrong though, let us know if there’s anything you can do. What are neighbors for, after all?”
I thanked them, and we were interrupted by Matu coming out with the spare key. I mumbled something about getting to the apartment to both, and they all waved me off. I followed the hallway to the apartment, number 42. I unlocked the door, and slowly walked in. It was a beautiful, modern apartment. Lots of well-fitting furniture, uncommon shapes, all of the appliances were shiny metal. Lots of whites, and greys and black colors. Looks like it came directly out of a magazine.
I had to figure out what was going on now. I started looking through all of the drawers in the kitchen, checking the food in the refrigerator, no idea why. Moving past the kitchen area toward the living room area, looking for a laptop, or some books, or anything that can give me some hints as to what is going on. I found nothing, I decided to head to the bedroom. It is nicely made. I sat on the bed, went through the night stands, I did find a spiral notebook. Tossed it at the foot of the bed. I’ll look more and make a pile of things to look through when I’ve searched enough. Next was the closet. A beautiful white closet door, with crystalline handles. My heart began racing at the thought of what was behind these doors. I swung the door open, and there were stacks and stacks of spiral notebooks. Well over 100 of them. Seeing the volume of these, I changed my mind about making a pile at the foot of the bed. I went straight back to the notebook on the foot of the bed, and started reading it. It was an activity log of my life, basically. I read the first entry in the notebook:
“Saturday, January 6th, 2018: 10:38 am. Went to the grocery store today. Purchased ground beef, corn, peas, some cans of soup, flour. This would all be good in a pot pie.
12:00 pm. Made lunch. Sandwiches. 12:30 pm. I saw him try to speak to her. She did not respond. The defeat in his walk when he walked away. He did not cry, but I cried for him.”
I stopped reading at this point. Needing to know how this all started, I went back to the closet, hoping these notebooks were in order. I went to the notebook on the bottom of the stack. It looked very used, and on the cover it said “Volume I.” I opened it and read the first entry:
“Friday, April 8th, 2016: 4:30 pm. Today Cory and I broke up. He was sleeping with another woman. I was walking down the road, looking at my phone. Part of me hoping that Cory would call and apologize and I would be able to yell at him again, and hear his voice once more. A car was coming, and I didn’t notice. I heard someone yell at me to look out, by the time I looked up, the car was almost going to hit me. That’s when someone ran in front of the car, and tackled me out of the way. He was so kind. He asked me if I was okay. Then he saw that I was crying. Asked if it was because I was hurt. I told him I wasn’t hurt because of him. Because of an ex. He told me that I just got a second chance by not dying from a speeding car, and that I am beautiful and will find someone who will never mistreat you.”
I put the book down, and took a deep breath. I remember that moment. I don’t remember them looking like the same person, but I guess it is possible. She had short brown hair, a little heavier than I knew her. There was also something different that I can’t quite put my finger on. That was so quick back then, I am not sure what I remember anymore. I took a deep breath and felt some closure. This is why she feels like she owes me something. Because I stopped her from getting hit by a car. There’s a lot more notebooks here, and it all dates back to about when she would have gotten pregnant. Maybe I’ll look through those in the future to see if I can figure out who the real father of the baby is. I am not sure what I’ll do with that information now, though. That baby is legally mine, and we don’t have to go through the trouble of looking into adoption.
I laid back in the bed for a moment. Casually, I grabbed the latest notebook from next to me and looked at the very last entry, which caused me to shoot up in bed, and my heart once again racing.
“Saturday, January 30th, 2018: 2:33 pm. Went to the department store to buy furniture and baby supplies.”
I stopped reading. I closed the notebook, went to the closet, grabbed the tote of shoes next to the notebooks, emptied the shoes, put all the notebooks in the tote. Then I left, locked the apartment door behind me, and loaded the tote into my car. I drove straight home, not sure if I blinked or obeyed all of the traffic laws. When I got there, I just sat in my car. Breathing deeply to make sure I was calm. When I felt composed, I got out of my car, looked around the neighborhood, not sure if I’d see anyone looking at me or not. I put on a smile for whoever may be looking, and walked into my house.
I don’t think I’ll ever figure out what has been happening, and I am not sure I even want to know. Right now, I just want to spend time with my family.
Submitted January 31, 2018 at 08:56PM by DexKnightley http://ift.tt/2DO7Ple nosleep
