Check your mirrors

Annelise found out from her friend Maria Elena that her new husband, Marc, had cheated on her the night before the wedding. Maybe he didn't realize what a small town it could be, that being rude to a maid at a hotel when he was drunk and in a hurry could make her angry, could set off the chain of events that led to his new wife knowing about what had happened. The woman he cheated with, Sue Rayburn, left town shortly after, leaving Annelise married to the bastard, unable to even think about how she felt before she found out; how, throughout the planning for the wedding, the ordering of the cake, the dress preparations, she'd been full of joy, anticipation, and hope; and now, she just wanted to throw up in the morning. And she wasn't even pregnant, yet. She tried to imagine having a baby with such a lowly scum as Marc, now, and couldn't, so she put it off, lived her life, and tried to come up with some appropriate revenge.

Just divorcing him didn't seem good enough. She knew that Maria Elena knew what happened, and probably some other people did too- but what ate at her was just the audacity of what Marc had done to her. It wouldn't matter, really, if nobody knew- he was a jerk, and he had it coming to him, and she was going to make sure he got it….someday. She set about living her life in a cold and serious mood. She didn't want to return the wedding gifts, admit it was all for nothing, all a mistake. She'd stay married and plan her revenge.

It became harder to talk her way out of having a baby. Marc wanted one, wanted several, the bastard, but years later, she still despised him, and could barely make love without thinking about Sue Rayburn, though Sue herself was becoming a distant memory, seven years past, now. One holiday, at a family gathering of Marc's side, she was getting the usual pressure to have a baby, from the in-laws, the cousins, and the aunts, and she watched Marc again, getting drunk slowly with his brother Robert, a real estate developer in a nearby town. By a twist of fate, Marc fell asleep and Robert gave her a ride home, and she seduced him deliberately. She had no special feeling for Robert- he was nice enough, married himself, but his wife was gone that evening, probably at her own family's place. Annelise did it mostly because she despised Marc, still, and had a driving passion to get him back in some way that would hurt, and hurt deeply.

And, sure enough, as she got pregnant, and carried the baby for a while, she became sure that it was Robert's, and that this would somehow hurt Marc- destroy him, make him sorry, teach him what unfaithful meant. But, in another twist of fate, Marc's boss died- and he stepped into a leadership role in his company, a small financial company- and, in another twist of fate, the place landed a large account, almost by chance, Annelise was sure- but in any case, Marc was rapidly becoming quite wealthy, and this was altering their lifestyle. The baby was born, a boy, and widely celebrated in both families; Annelise dressed him up, named him Peter, and paraded around with a huge smile on her face, seeing Robert in his eyes every time she looked. Once, she saw Maria Elena on the street; Maria Elena was disturbed at the appearance of the baby, but said nothing. Annelise was convinced that only Robert knew of their own tryst, but, maybe he had told someone? She stayed conveniently away from him for a couple of years; she managed to attend family events at different times than he did, and just missed him every time. One would think that Robert and his family would make a point to come over to see the new baby- but, in fact, Marc and Robert didn't talk much, and Annelise realized it might not happen right away. Wouldn't he at least wonder, she thought? Want to take a look? If so, she got no indication. He could just as well have been in another country.

Annelise was close to Peter, the baby, and worked to keep Marc away from him, to make sure they didn't become close. Fortunately, at this time, Marc became obsessed with money, and had to play a lot of golf, and be away a lot, in order to ensure that it kept rolling in. He had a new car, fast and solidly built, and would take it for drives; he took care of Annelise and the baby, and let them do as they wished; if he suspected that Peter wasn't his, he didn't let on. She suspected that, with all that money, a fine car, and plenty of time, he had other girlfriends, but she really didn't care; she kept seeing Sue Rayburn around every corner, and dreaded finding out any more about anything.

When Peter entered kindergarten Annelise had more time on her hands, but was determined to have no more children, in spite of pressure again, from both families and from Marc. With Marc she'd become tired of being angry, and now had just no feeling at all, a kind of cold numbness, as she looked at him and thought of Sue Rayburn, again. Not tonight, she'd tell him, and maybe never, she'd think to herself, coldly. But again, suddenly, something happened that changed her outlook. She met a racecar driver at the library- he was looking up race trivia and pawing through old mechanic's manuals for cars that he was using. She wasn't sure, at first, if he raced for a living, or just as a passion, but the fact that he just flew off, in his car, whenever he wanted, held irresistible charm for her. She had always despised the boys that drove too fast, the boys like Marc who wanted to show you how it could do 0 to 120 in so many seconds flat, who wanted you to be impressed even as they checked their mirrors to see if the police were behind them. But here was a guy, Blake, who did this and did it well, and knew what he was doing, and therefore, could deliver her from her hell, her trap, her big-money castle where she was sequestered with a two-timing jerk. The need for revenge again boiled up inside her and she allowed herself to fall for Blake. She waited by the phone for his call, and when he called, she agreed to go with him for a ride in the country, the following morning. He picked her up and they sped out of town on a back road, where she thought nobody would see them, and she thought she'd try to be home to pick up Peter at school at about three.

They were out of town in minutes, because Blake drove on the fast side, a little recklessly, veering around curves, almost skidding on patches of ice that remained after a recent storm. It was a clear winter day, but driving could still be a bit treacherous, especially on the bridges, and on the sides of the roads; Annelise's eyes widened as they got further from town, and Blake only drove faster. Excitement was welling up inside her; she hadn't actually felt this excited since her engagement with Marc, and that of course was long dead. But the dread of trouble, of the world caving in on her, weighed heavily; what about Peter? What about the huge house, the relatives, the whole thing? She couldn't bear to think about it; she practically encouraged him to drive faster.

At a bed and breakfast, down by the river, a good forty miles from town, they sat on a porch and had drinks, and watched some barges go down the river. She thought, for a moment, of having yet another baby, this one with Blake, but rejected that idea. Getting revenge, after all, hadn't worked, since Marc still didn't know about the true father, though he would eventually, no doubt. It would work even less with this guy, who she barely even knew, but whose baby would be more clearly distinguishable. But the excitement, the thrill, the brush with death, and reckless driving, kept her near his side that day; she found it difficult to go back to her stifling life, the golf pro, the millionaire, the two-timer.

But, leaving the bed and breakfast, a little after lunch, Robert himself came around a corner, carrying a suitcase, and saw her clearly, as she was leaving with Blake. His jaw fell about a foot; he dropped the suitcase; and someone behind him, still unseen, also stopped. Annelise fled, but knew it was too late; she told Blake to hurry up, and get out of here, and he did, but she didn't see Robert again, leaving the place, or looking out the windows after her. They sped out of the parking lot and back toward town, but Annelise's heart had fallen to the bottom of her stomach. She'd been seen, caught, exposed. He would surely tell his brother, if not the rest of his family- and probably sooner rather than later. She entertained the thought that perhaps he wouldn't - maybe he'd keep it to himself- but, arriving back at her house, and sneaking in to get the family car, and take it to the school, she was glad the ruse was over. She wanted Robert to tell his brother, to deliver her from this situation. She felt the burden of the whole terrible lie, the oppression and deceit- it was too much for her. She drove quickly to the school, picked up Peter, put him in the car seat in the back, and sped home and back into her garage, sick to her stomach again. It was more than she could bear; she couldn't even take Peter out of his car seat to go into the house. She reopened the garage door, put the car in reverse, and sped back out of the garage, glancing only for one last look back at the house.

But now a tragedy happened. Marc, coming up the driveway, and also driving too fast, didn't see her at all, and she smashed right into him. The cars hit squarely and hard, his front and her back, with poor little Peter caught right in the middle. In a tangle of broken glass, blood, screaming, and 911 calls, she realized that they had both been going too fast; she faded in and out of consciousness in her seat, and had no idea, after a while, what was going on around her. She was taken to the hospital, where, days later, she learned that Peter had died. Marc was injured, and would be unable to play golf, but otherwise would be ok, and she herself would never have another baby, but also would ultimately pull out of it. She slept for days, unwilling, unable, to wake up and get out of bed.

Her grief over the loss of Peter was overwhelming, but both families were supportive, as if perhaps Robert had not in fact told anyone, as if they thought it was an innocent, coincidental accident. She considered asking Marc if Robert had called that day; if there was a reason he had been going too fast; if maybe he had suspected that things weren't right between them. Her recovery was slow, though, and these questions were never asked, never answered. Eventually Marc would ask her to tell him stories about Peter, and she did, realizing how sad he was, not to have really known him well. They seemed, now, to be stuck with each other, both with their secrets, their infidelities, and their punishments. And it stayed that way. As she got older, she realized how easy it was, for both of them, to never bring up the subject of infidelity, and simply to each encourage each other to drive carefully, so that it wouldn't happen again. She never saw Blake again, and Robert, when she saw him, years later, would not even look directly at her. If he knew or suspected anything, he was not eager to share it with her. Family events had drama now, with unresolved tension, when Robert was there, but afterwards it would fade, and she'd have only her memories again.

2-07