Mistakes

  MISTAKES

  By Amanda Wilhelm

  © Copyright 2014 by Amanda Wilhelm

  No part of this eBook may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, except for brief quotations in reviews, without written permission of the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Any names or characters, businesses or places, events or incidents, are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Cover artwork designed by Jes Richardson.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Lauri - Now

  Lauri - September 19, 2009

  Part One

  Laurie – January 8, 2009

  Laurie – January 15, 2009

  Laurie – January 25, 2009

  Laurie – February 1, 2009

  Laurie – February 27, 2009

  Laurie – February 28, 2009

  Laurie – May 18, 2009

  Laurie – June 20, 2009

  Laurie – July 4, 2009

  Laurie – July 15, 2009

  Laurie – July 25, 2009

  Laurie -August 17, 2009

  Laurie – September 8, 2009

  Laurie – September 12, 2009

  Laurie – September 13, 2009

  Laurie – September 15, 2009

  Laurie – September 16, 2009

  Laurie – September 18, 2009

  Part Two

  Alex – June 15, 2006

  Alex – June 22, 2006

  Alex – June 30, 2006

  Alex – August 3, 2006

  Alex – November 24, 2006

  Alex – June 3, 2007

  Alex – September 4, 2007

  Alex – October 15, 2007

  Alex – October 31, 2007

  Alex – November 11, 2007

  Alex – December 15, 2007

  Alex – December 26, 2007

  Alex – February 3, 2008

  Alex – March 30, 2008

  Alex – June 22, 2008

  Alex – July 22, 2008

  Alex – September 8, 2008

  Alex – September 27, 2008

  Alex – October 31, 2008

  Alex – December 24, 2008

  Alex – January 9, 2009

  Alex – February 1, 2009

  Alex – February 27, 2009

  Alex – March 10, 2009

  Alex – May 20, 2009

  Alex – August 20, 2009

  Alex – September 12, 2009

  Part Three

  Lauri – September 19, 2009 3:00 PM

  Rachel – September 19, 2009 5:00 PM

  Lauri – September 19, 2009 5:30 PM

  Lauri – September 20, 2009

  Lauri – September 28, 2009

  Lauri – September 29, 2009

  Lauri – Now

  Carl – May17, 2004

  Sneak Peek at Amanda Wilhelm’s latest contemporary trilogy

  All of Amanda’s Books

  The Ty and Sara Trilogy

  Role of a Lifetime

  Class of ‘96

  New in Town

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  Prologue

  Lauri - Now

  I watch my girls, when they aren't looking. I always have. I love the secret glimpses into their personalities, their thoughts, their relationship with each other. I always enjoyed their wonder, and the crazy ideas they come up with when they don't quite know or understand what they are talking about, the child's point of view. With Megan, it's still like that. With Rachel, it's different now. I watch for signs. For damage. From what I did. From what I shouldn't have done.

  Lauri - September 19, 2009

  Silence in the back seat, I sneak a look back. Megan is conked out. Great. Nap at 5:00. That means she will be up till midnight. Well maybe not. She was exhausted from the fever and the strep test and she will get another dose of antibiotics before bed. Nine, maybe I'll try to put her to bed at nine. I suck down the rest of the water and feel around, in the bag on the passenger seat, for another one, even though I know there isn't one there. The nurse practitioner was nice and very enthusiastic about me still nursing. She'll get better in no time she said. Nursing is so great when they are sick, she said. She forgot to mention the part about Megan sucking my bone marrow dry. I feel like I have been perpetually dehydrated for about six years. Dinner. Crap, what was for dinner again? I don't remember. Think, think.

  Almost there. Okay, just get Rachel, figure out dinner when you get home. Maybe there is pizza in the freezer. One nice thing about Bill, he wouldn't give me a hard time about not having dinner ready ever, especially not if one of the kids is sick. Ugh, don't think about that. Don't even try to deal with that now.

  I park in Alex's driveway and walk around the back. Not getting Megan out of the car, better be quick. I see Rachel out on the swing set, pumping hard, swinging as high as she can. No sign of Alex or Candy, they must have run inside for a second.

  "Rachel," I yell, "We got to go, Megan's asleep in the car, hurry up."

  I look back at the car.

  Rachel looks up and sees me and stops pumping. When the swing slows down, she drags her feet on the ground until it stops. Then she gets off and comes over to me, slowly.

  "Come on baby, we got to boogie, where's Miss Alex and Candy?"

  As she comes closer I see she is smeared with red paint. It is all over her shirt and her arms, some on her legs.

  "Were you guys painting? Why didn't you wash up before you came outside?"

  This isn't like Alex. In fact, painting isn't like Alex. Alex is more store-bought craft kit with minimal mess involved. Painting with kids terrifies Alex.

  "What's going on Rachel?"

  She looks at me. A look I've never seen before. No smile, no expression at all really. And her eyes. They are different somehow. Lifeless. I reach out and touch her shirt and feel the paint. And that's when I realize it's not paint. It's blood.

  Part One

  Lauri - January 8, 2009

  The timer wakes me up. I was dozing on the couch. Now it's time to pick Rachel up from school. I haven't been sleeping at night, much too uncomfortable. So I gave myself a half hour after getting home from dropping her off. Then when the timer went off I reset it. Then reset it again. And again. Now it is time to go pick her up and I literally accomplished nothing. I grab my keys and slide into the only shoes that still fit me. It is probably thirty-five degrees outside right now but I don't need a coat. I walk out to the car. Just as I get outside a blue sedan pulls into the driveway. No one I know. If I wasn't so tired I might be concerned, but I don't have the energy for concern. I don't have the energy for anything. A man gets out of the car. Don't know him. He looks pretty average though. He comes over to me.

  "You're Bill's wife? Bill Prescott?"

  Kind of a strange way to introduce himself. The thought passes through my head and is immediately replaced by extreme exhaustion.

  "Lauri," I say, "Lauri Prescott, do I know you?"

  "No," he says.

  Then nothing.

  "Should I know you?" I say.

  "No," he says, "I don't think so."

  Now he is being weird but I am still too tired to care. And I have to get to preschool pickup.

  "Well, I have to go, I have an appointment."

  Okay, that's good, my brain is still functioning, a little. Don't tell the weirdo about your kid.

  "I'm sorry," he says, "I had no idea you were pregnant. You must be due any day."

  "No," I say, "two more months."

  Since people have been saying that to me since OCTOBER I am pretty used to it. It is slightly le
ss annoying now.

  "Wow," he says, "Are you having twins?"

  Now that is still pretty annoying but I don't have the energy for annoyance either.

  "No."

  "Are you sure?"

  "Yes."

  Yes I am sure asshole, you want to hear about the vaginal ultrasound? They checked EVERYWHERE. Real thorough. I start towards my car.

  "Wait," he says. He holds out a large yellow envelope. "I came to give you these."

  I take the envelope automatically.

  "What is it?" I ask.

  "My wife, well ex-wife, well we are getting divorced," he stops.

  "What?"

  "I'm sorry, I didn't know you were pregnant. I'm sorry. They've been having an affair."

  "Who?"

  "My wife and your husband. Bill. Those are e-mails. I printed them out. I thought you should know. I thought about it a lot and I decided you should know."

  I stand there holding the envelope and try to decide if I am so tired that I am having some sort of psychotic break. It could be possible. The man walks back to his car and as he turns to get in he looks at me.

  "I'm sorry. Really. Very sorry."

  He gets into his car and drives away. I get in my car and drive to the preschool. When we get home I put the envelope under some jeans on the closet shelf. After Rachel is in bed, and Bill crashes in front of the TV, I go back up to the bedroom and lock the door. I read what the man gave me. All of it. Then I put it all back in the envelope and back on the shelf under the jeans. I go and sit on the bed and I try to think. Try to feel. Something. Anything. But I can't. When Bill comes up later I am still sitting there.

  "Hey" he says.

  I don't say anything. He comes over and sits next to me. Puts his arm around me.

  "Two more months babe, you can do this."

  Two more months, he is talking about the baby. He thinks I am sitting here not moving because of the baby. He doesn't know that I know.

  "Uh, huh" I say.

  I force myself up.

  "Lauri," he says. I turn and look at him.

  "I can sleep on the couch, you know, if you want the bed. I know you aren't sleeping well lately."

  "No," I say, "I want the couch. It's good for my back. The support."

  "Okay." he says, and he hugs me and kisses me on the top of the head. "Good night."

  "Good night," I say.

  I watch him walk into the bathroom and I go downstairs. I force myself to think. About the baby. About Rachel. About my marriage. And I decide now is really not the time to deal with this. Eventually I fall asleep.

  Lauri - January 15, 2009

  "How are you doing?"

  I wake with a start.

  "Oh boy, sorry, I didn't mean to wake you, I saw you were here and just stopped in to say hi."

  It's my doctor. Takes me a second to remember where I am. The hospital, maternity, the twice weekly non stress tests. Courtesy of my advanced maternal age. But I'm not the oldest patient in the practice having a baby right now. The nurse informed me they had an expectant mom who was 49.

  "Good for her," I said, but mentally I was preparing the vasectomy conversation in my head.

  I actually gave it a lot of thought that day, given that I was pregnant approximately an hour when I realized that A) this pregnancy was going to be infinitely harder than the first (blame even more advanced maternal age?) and B) the mere idea of having a newborn when I am fifty scares me enough to think about B-1) knocking him over the head and doing the procedure myself (must be instructions on the internet) B-2) waiting until I am back in somewhat reasonable shape and giving him the kind of sex that will get him to agree to anything.

  Of course that was before I knew what I know now. Which is why I am thinking that it is great that Joy is here and I should talk to her about it now and not wait. Which means talking about it now, which is definitely not great.

  Joy comes over and looks at the strip of paper printing out of the monitor.

  "Looks really good today, we'll get you out of here soon. Where's Rachel? Preschool?"

  Joy delivered Rachel. She's been my gyno for what, fifteen years now? Alex's too now that the doctor who delivered Candy retired. Actually we joke that Candy made him retire. She was so wedged in it took 45 minutes of pulling to get her out via C-section. That was also the easiest thing anyone ever got Candy to do against her will. Not a joke and on a bad day for Alex, not funny at all.

  Joy would be a close friend except I'm sure all of her patients want to be her friend and that would be physically impossible. We also share an addiction for Law and Order (all of them but agree Criminal Intent is not as good as the regular or SVU) and she is the only one I know who watches it, or admits to it. Bill calls it Law and Boredom.

  "Alex is watching her, you know, Alex Barnes? She and Candy are best buddies."

  Plus Rachel hates the hospital. Really, really hates it. First time I brought her armed with coloring books and snacks, figuring it was not a big deal, but everything freaked her out. Everything. The announcements, the machinery and they do the non stress tests in maternity, you can hear, well, not everything, but too much. The next time we had to go she freaked and I ended up calling to cancel. Oh they were so not happy with me.

  "Oh yeah, sure. What else is going on?"

  "Um, well, there was something I wanted to talk to you about, but I was going to save it for the next appointment."

  "No worries," Joy is always, breezy, that's a good word for it. "No one in labor at this very moment, shoot."

  Shit, I should have waited until the next appointment; I am not up for dealing with this now. But I will not be up for dealing with it then either.

  "The thing is, I think,"

  Joy looks curious as it is not like me to take so long to say anything.

  "I need an HIV test I think."

  She blinks, hard, once. Not much of a reaction, a doctor reaction, not a friend reaction. I realize I really need a friend right now. But I would have to tell them and I can't, I won't. I don't want anyone to know, not now, not ever. I think I would feel even more pathetic if I knew someone else knew. The thought crosses my mind that it is very possible that other people know. Maybe a lot of them. Joy starts to say something and I force my attention back to the present and interrupt her.

  "Syphilis, gonorrhea, whatever along those lines you think that I should be tested for. We need to know, so we can treat it. Do what is right for the baby," I say, very carefully.

  She takes what seems like a long time to answer.

  "I can take the cultures now, no problem. We'll have to draw some blood, I don't know when I can get the phlebotomist down here, can you wait? Or you can get it done at the lab. When you have time." Joy is also choosing her words very carefully.

  "The lab, I think, I need to get out of here."

  Want to get of here. Desperately.

  "Alright, but the cultures? We should do them now? That will just take a minute."

  She has crossed the room and is ready to pull out what she needs.

  I nod.

  "Okay, now," I say."

  She comes back over to me with the stuff.

  "Just like the pap, basically, I just need more of them. Only take a minute."

  It does only take a minute. Joy is the best. Alex says so too. But mostly I am thinking about how we are usually talking when she does this. About her kids, or Rachel, or skiing, she is a big skier too, but no talking, just silence. When she is done she rolls back on the stool and gets up with the cultures in hand. I didn't even notice how many there were, more than usual for sure.

  "I'll get the paperwork done for the blood work, the nurse will bring it in for you."

  "Thank you."

  She turns to leave but, before she makes it to the door, she turns back.

  "Lauri," she says, and I am sure there is pity in her voice, "We have procedures for this. It is kept confidential. Very confidential."

  "Thanks," I nod, "that's good to
know."

  Then she leaves. When the nurse comes in to tell me I am all set and I can go home now, she hands me a sealed envelope with just my name written on it. I thank her and put it in my purse. I will take Rachel to the lab with me tomorrow. I will have to tell her approximately eight hundred times that we are going to the medical building for me and not her, the pediatrician's office is in the same building.

  As I get dressed to go I wonder if, when this is all over, I will need to find a new gynecologist. There is no point in changing now, because any new doctor would have to know about the tests. I'm not even sure if one test will do it. They may have to keep checking. Damn Bill to hell and back if I have to find a new gynecologist. Joy is fucking perfect. The idea that in all this I am concerned about losing my gyno is so ludicrous I start laughing, but the crying takes over pretty quickly. I mop up as best as I can and sneak out of the maternity ward. I know the nurses see me but they are kind enough to pretend otherwise. Confidentiality my enormous pregnant ass.

  Lauri - January 25, 2009

  "This weekend."

  That's the subject line in the e-mail from Bill. I click it open.

  Hey Babe, Matt wanted to do a day trip up to Vermont Saturday, Killington, or Mount Snow, is that okay by you? I know that in a couple of weeks it probably won't be a good idea, but I really wanted to get one more day of skiing in, I only went four days this year. But if you don't want me to, I won't. Just let me know either way so I can tell Matt. Love you, Bill

  Skiing, figures. And just like him to act like he is being considerate by giving me the opportunity to tell him no, he can't go. I don't want to tell him he can't go. Why do I have to be the bad guy? What I really want is for him to look at the situation and decide on his own that it's not a good idea. That he doesn't want to leave his pregnant wife alone with the three year old all day on Saturday, especially since she is alone with the three year old all day, five days a week (okay minus two and a half hours of preschool Tuesday and Thursday).

  And this is New England so we will not be playing outside, which makes it so much harder. I can't believe how long winter is when you have a little kid to entertain all day. A little kid who hates wearing a coat, hat, snow pants and boots. Especially boots. What little kid doesn't love to play out in the snow? Mine.