Between February and November

By Patti Lee

Between February and November is a story that delves into the messy uncertainty of a long-term marriage. It takes place in a modern-day lakeside town in Vermont. That February morning started out like any other; Layla Ranker got her kids ready for school and her husband off to work before she went off to wo

• Language: English
• Publisher: RockHill Publishing LLC
• Release date: Nov 10, 2022
• ISBN: 9781945286773

Book preview

Chapter One

4 PM, Friday, February 15, 2019

Layla

To say I was stunned when I saw them as they made their way through the throng of people would have been an understatement. As my sight adjusted to the neon haze, I watched wide-eyed as they bumped through the crowd to snatch an empty table. Their heads were huddled close together as they sat. Why did they look like such close friends? What was Alan doing at the bar? I had no idea who that woman with long blonde hair was, but she sure looked happy to be on my husband’s arm.

They perched on their chairs, close together, and she laughed at something Alan said. My face flushed. I didn’t realize I had balled my fists until I tried to run a hand through my short brown hair. I immediately hated everything about the little blonde Barbie doll, but I hated even more the way he looked at her. The expression on his face. He looked completely intoxicated by her.

Did he ever look like that when he was with me?

I stood in front of the bar, my mouth hanging open. Alan was supposed to be working. Of course, I wasn’t supposed to be at the bar either; I should have been working too. My full-time job as a home health aide kept me out of the house nine hours a day, and today had been brutal. My day started off shitty and just got worse. I needed to be left alone, and I needed a bourbon.

I inhaled the sickly sweetness of cheap liquor and stale air and exhaled through my nose as I shook my head. Shock was replaced by a hot ball of anger as it grew in my gut. Alan lied to me when he’d called me a little while ago and left me a message saying his boss asked him to cover the next shift. I was either giving my client CPR or at the hospital when he called. I had no idea. Time and the sequence of today’s events were fuzzy. But it didn’t matter. Either way, I couldn’t pick up.

Maybe I shouldn’t have been at the bar either, but I wasn’t walking around on Jake Gyllenhaal’s arm, so I won that battle.

I guess that meant I actually lost. Which didn’t make me feel any better.

He said he had to work, but that was definitely Alan, and he was definitely not at work.

She stood up and headed toward the ladies’ room. I made my way toward that end of the bar, twisting past clumps of people. My pulse kept time with the thump-thump of the drums blaring at me from all sides. I wanted to rage at Alan, but I was haunted by that look on his face, so I followed her instead.

Lightheaded with a churning stomach, I took a deep breath and walked into the ladies’ room. Floral air freshener assaulted my senses. I could taste it on my tongue. The grey metal doors of both stalls stood open. I wrinkled my nose at the muddy puddles on the floor in front of one of the commodes. The blonde was checking her makeup in the mirror. I headed towards the sink, my heart pounding in my chest. We made eye contact in the mirror, and I smiled past the nausea. I turned on the tap with a trembling hand, swallowed hard and tried to sound like I wasn’t falling apart on the inside.

Cute boots. I said.

Her face lit up. Her teeth extra white against her shiny dark pink lips. Oh my God! Thanks. They’re super cute, aren’t they? She sounded and looked ridiculously young as she held her long blonde hair back with one hot-pink nailed hand and moved her ankle around to admire them. The black-heeled boots weren’t made for Vermont’s typical February snow, but they suited the skinny jeans and snow bunny look. She wore a puffy winter coat, but I could tell she had a nice figure.

Me with my short dark hair and puffy middle… we were complete opposites.

I wanted to yank her by that blonde hair and demand to know what she was doing with my husband, but that wouldn’t get me anywhere. I needed to find out what I could about this woman.

It’s really busy here today, huh?

Yeah, I know, right? Me and my… friend are going to head out and find a place with a little more privacy. She winked at me before she gave herself one last glance in the mirror and sashayed out of the bathroom.

Stunned for the second time since that tall, blonde stranger walked in with my husband, I had no idea how long I stood in front of the mirror with the water running. I grabbed a paper towel, dried my hands and walked out. It was like I was in a dream. While my brain started to shut down and turn in on itself, the rest of my body quivered along. Starts and stops. Wobbly legs and uncontrollable twitches. Who was she? Why were they together? Where were they going? Why the hell was he with her at Jack’s Cantina?

I stumbled my way back into the crowd and saw Alan and Barbie head toward the exit. I guess they decided on their more private space. I was nauseous and dizzy. Passing out was a real possibility. After they slipped outside, I waited a few seconds before I followed them out into the dusky afternoon. The deep breath of air I took stung my lungs and froze the snot in my nose. The smell of cheap booze and beer, mixed with a trace of desperation, clung to me. I took another deep breath and hoped it would not only dispel the bar stench but also help calm my nerves.

Their backs were to me as they walked through dull pools of flickering streetlights. They talked as they weaved their way along the sidewalk, but I couldn’t hear anything they said. He held her hand as they stepped gingerly past mirrors of black glass on the sidewalk. They slowed down by some cars parked along the street.

Oh my God!

He. Held. Her. Hand.

He let go as they stopped in front of one of the cars. I didn’t need the faint glow from the streetlight to show me it was not Alan’s truck but a little blue VW Bug. He went around and opened the driver’s side door and waited for Barbie to get in.

What a gentleman.

Wait… was he going around to the passenger side? Was he getting in that car? With her? What were they doing? Where were the going? I had to get to my Jeep and follow them. It was like I was watching the whole scene from a distance, and everything was in slow motion.

With one eye on them, I stepped over the pile of stone-crusted snow between the sidewalk and the street. I lost my balance but managed to avoid falling head-first into the snowbank. Instead, my sneaker-clad foot landed in a cold slushy puddle, and it was now a frozen block of cement as I made it to my Jeep and struggled to open the car door. I finally managed to get in, sliding behind the wheel and closing the door in one motion. I started the engine and hurriedly pulled out into traffic, cutting off a car in my haste to leave. I glanced at the driver of the silver Mercedes as they blared their high-pitched horn for several seconds. Normally, I’d be annoyed and yell something back but today it didn’t faze me.

I kept my focus on that little blue blur. The Bug was well ahead of me in front of a red SUV. Green and white street signs reflected headlights as we whizzed by. They cruised through traffic lights. I kept a safe distance, but I could still see them several car lengths in front of me.

I followed them for a few miles, and it looked like Barbie was heading toward the center of town. I usually didn’t stray far from my little corner of Vermont. I hadn’t been to Jack’s Cantina in years, not since that one time Alan and I went after we’d both turned twenty-one and wanted to try out our official IDs. I wasn’t familiar with the town of Hopton. I had no idea where I’d end up.

Red lights flashed ahead as traffic slowed, and I neared another intersection. The blue Bug now four cars in front of me sailed under the yellow light. I continued to watch them as they drove down the road and leaned my head to the left to see around the cars in front of me.

My eyes on the blue speck a hundred yards ahead, I almost smacked into the back bumper of a green rust bucket as it stopped for the red light. I let out a growl as I goose-necked from side to side, trying to catch a glimpse of Alan and the blonde as they drove away from me. I rolled down my window and stuck my head out. Dammit! There were too many headlights coming at me, and too many brake lights to keep track of. I couldn’t tell where the Bug went.

Finally, the light changed. But the green car, which I now saw was an old Buick, sat unmoving as it signaled a left-hand turn and blocked my path. I laid on my horn.

Why the hell don’t people know how to drive?

MOVE. I slammed my hands against the steering wheel before I clutched it and screamed, Get out of my way.

Jesus Christ. My insides were going a million miles a minute, but the rest of me was stuck in quicksand. Part of me wanted to find them, but the other part wished I’d gone home instead of stopping for a drink. Then I’d be oblivious to how and why Alan ended up at a bar on a Friday night with another woman. I would have never known he’d lied to me. I wouldn’t be wondering how many other times I’d been lied to. I would be completely in the dark.

I gritted my teeth, and my heart beat faster. I breathed in through my nose and pressed my lips together. I shook my head like a pitcher disagreeing with a catcher on which pitch I should throw. I exhaled loudly through my nose, checked my mirror and decided to go for it. Eyeing the sidewalk, I jerked the steering wheel to the right and gave the car some gas. A jaw-jarring thump and I drove around the old Buick. The driver lay on his horn, and his angry shouts bounced off my windows. I was sure he used some colorful language, but I couldn’t make out any actual words.

I floored it as I cleared the intersection then slammed on my brakes as I caught up to a line of cars. The traffic slowed me down as I traveled through more lights and intersections. The cloudy sky coupled with the impending darkness of a winter afternoon in Vermont weren’t doing me any favors. I kept one eye on the road and eyed side streets for the blue Bug. Cruising at a slow speed, the Bug would have been easy to spot in any of the half-dozen half-empty restaurant parking lots I passed.

They had too much of a head-start, and for all I knew, they had turned down a side street three blocks ago.

I rolled up my window, cursing the Buick that had been in my way. If that stupid green hunk of metal had pulled up at that intersection to give me room to go by, I would have kept the Bug in my sight. Maybe it was for the best. Maybe I was making a big deal out of nothing. There had to be a logical explanation, and Alan would tell me all about it when he got home.

I tried to hold onto that glimmer of hope, but I wasn’t convinced. My stomach was queasy, and I had a sour taste in my mouth. My body was running on empty. Deciding to turn around and go home, I signaled to move into the left lane. A car pulled out into the passing lane a few cars ahead of me. My upset stomach turned cold and tingly. It was the Bug. It was in front of a pick-up truck, and its signal flashing, it turned left.

Peering out the window in that direction, as far as I could tell, they were either going to a medical clinic, Ben & Jerry’s, or the Holiday Inn. I prayed Barbie or Alan was having a heart attack. But they drove just past the clinic. Instead, they pulled into the hotel parking lot. Cars were packed like sardines under the covered passenger pickup area by the lobby.

My whole world turned upside down.

I swallowed hard and pushed my luck as I sped toward the now yellow light. Another horn blared at me. Whooping and bouncing up and down in my seat, I eyed the cars in the rearview mirror as they drove through the intersection. I immediately slowed down as I neared the hotel and almost stopped at the entrance. I craned my neck, scanning the well-lit area to see where they parked. Chest-high bushes, like giant cupcakes covered in white frosting blocked my view. I crawled along. Piles of snow, sooty and crusted with stones near the bottom, were plowed into tall mounds. The tips of the snowbanks were a cloudy blue under the parking lot lights. I jumped in my seat, startled from the loud beep behind me. I sped up and turned into the Ben & Jerry’s parking lot next door. I drove around to the other side of the building and parked.

Bitter acid crept up my throat. I was going to puke; I just knew it. I sat with the engine running and tried to remember how to breathe.

Hands on the steering wheel, I closed my eyes.

Breathe in. Breath out.

What the hell are they doing in there?

Rhetorical question—I knew why a man and a woman went to a hotel. My imagination ran wild, and I tried to suppress the images of all the things they might have been doing to each other. I fixated between the black and white cows and the white puffy clouds covering the window of the store and the words, Peace, Love & Ice Cream.

Cow. Clouds. Peace, Love & Ice Cream.

Over and over.

I couldn’t believe it. Alan was cheating on me.

I wish I had never stopped at Jack’s and just went home instead, like I did every other day. Note to self: stick to the original plan. If I had, I never would have known about Barbie. I would rather have been in the dark. I sighed aloud and shook my head, knowing that wasn’t true.

I wish he had been honest with me. He wasn’t working late, he had found someone else. Part of me was surprised it hadn’t happened sooner; I always wondered why he stayed with me. Probably for the girls, and now they were older, he could be free. But the other part of me, the part that loved him and loved our family, the part that knew him better than anyone else in the world, couldn’t believe it.

My stomach hurt. Actual physical pain. It was almost the same feeling as when I did a belly flop into the pool when I was ten. It felt like someone punched me in the gut, and I had gotten the wind knocked out of me. It also felt like I’d been to Mexico and drank the tequila and the water.

People milled in and out of the ice cream shop. A rosy-cheeked, copper-haired girl skipped ahead of her mother, her wide eyes and shiny teeth turned toward her mom as her mom hurried to catch up. A young boy wearing a powder blue Elsa and Anna hat with a pink and white pom-pom. The boy’s arm held high to hold his father’s hand as he struggled to tug the tall man along the sidewalk toward the ice cream shop.

Sweet little boy.

Before I knew it, my throat was thick, and my chin quivered as I blinked back tears.

I ran a hand through my hair and slumped in my seat, resting my forehead against the steering wheel. How could I be so stupid? Tears burned my eyes as I leaned back against the seat, wiping my nose with the back of my hand. It wasn’t hunger that caused that burning sensation in the pit of my stomach. I shook my head as my chest tightened and my whole body stiffened.

How long had this been going on? How could I not have known? How could he have done this? There must have been some signs I missed. Some clue. Everything seemed normal this morning. Did he even think about how this would affect our family? Did he even consider Tansy and Astor? How could he have been so selfish?

Chapter Two

7 AM, Friday, February 15, 2019

Alan

I had that dream again. About Chris. I always did this time of year. I kept my eyes closed, willing myself to get back to that life, but it vanished from my grasp like wisps of fog on the lake at sunrise. I hated to wake up from those dreams; satisfied to live suspended in my subconsciousness, happy, and content. My life in my dreams was so different from the life I had now with Layla.

I blinked a few times. The ghostly blush of early morning seeped through the curtains. The slamming doors and desolate emptiness of the bed confirmed I was alone—I had to open my eyes and face the day. The noise of the girls bickering and the sweet smell of coffee urged me to fully awake. I rolled over and sat up, shivering as my bare feet met the hardwood floor. I leaned forward, the heels of my palms resting on the purple-flowered edge of the bed as that familiar dark wave came over me. It came less often than it used to, but I could never tell how long it would last. I just knew if I didn’t move, if I didn’t actively fight it, I’d be swallowed up by it.

Dad?

I looked up at the silhouette of eleven-year-old Astor standing in the doorway.

Tell Tansy she has to get out of the bathroom. She reminded me of a runner at a crosswalk waiting for the light to turn—her feet never stopped moving. "I have to go, and I still have to get ready for school."

Behind her, the bathroom door opened, and Tansy stalked over. Whatever, Astor. Fine. She spat out. Take the bathroom. Little tattle-tale, she muttered.

Tansy, looking every bit a moody thirteen-year-old, stood framed by the doorway with her arms crossed as Astor ran into the bathroom and slammed the door. She dropped one arm and reached over to flip the switch on the wall. I drew my head back, wincing at the harsh light.

She looked at me in silence for several seconds, eventually calling out to me. Dad?

Yeah, Z? I squinted as I focused on her with my one open eye.

With her straight back, chin up, and squared shoulders, her five-foot frame seemed to loom. We made full eye contact, staring at each other for a