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“Or you could just ask him,” Gwen says.
“Right.”
“You seem to think I should have done that with Bill.”
“This is different.”
“How’s it different?”
I nod slowly. “I guess, it’s not really, is it? It’s just women being insecure and doesn’t it suck that with all these strides we’re supposed to have made, we still come around to this: letting our confidence be undermined by our relationships. God, it’s like high school all over again.”
“Except you’ve already got the tattoos and piercings this time,” she says. “Ha ha.”
But she’s right.
“Have you been cheating on me?” I ask Edric.
Here’s the thing when people have something to hide. Usually, they don’t answer you right away. Instead, they come back with a question, like “Why would you think that?” Or maybe they just say, “I can’t believe you think that.” They beat around the bush until you make them answer you, yes or no, simple as that.
Edric looks at me with what appears to be genuine surprise.
“No,” he says.
We’ve just finished dinner. He doesn’t have a gig tonight. We have the whole evening, so what better way to spend this time together than accusing my partner of being unfaithful?
“It’s just…things feel different between us,” I say when he doesn
’t fill the silence.
But that awkward bit of conversation never happens.
I agree with Gwen. It’s what I should do, but while Edric and I do have the evening free, he spends it practicing his guitar, while I stay busy scanning pictures of musicians from British music magazines, and then making buttons out of the print-outs that I can sell in the store.
It’s Tuesday night. This Wednesday’s a full moon. And of course Edric’s got an out-of-town gig. So I’m going to do the stupid, senseless thing. I’m going to follow him to the gig and see what, if anything, is going on. I’ve already got one of my part-timers coming in so that I can have the two days off.
I know, I know. He could be doing the dirty deed while I’m at the store during the day, but I don’t think so. I’d know if he was having somebody in the apartment besides his music buddies, and there are none of the usual signs when he comes back from being out. It’s only these nights of the full moon. Now that I’m paying attention, I can sense some tension in him as the time approaches, and he’s…I don’t know. Relieved when he comes back.
You could put it down to gig nerves, but the one place he’s entirely at home is on stage with his guitar in his hand.
Wednesday morning I leave the apartment the same time I always do, but instead of walking to the store, I take El Sub to my friend Karen’s place in Upper Foxville. She’s lending me her car. And a blonde wig to hide my black hair.
“You’re sure you don’t want me to come with?” she asks. “Because these things never turn out well.”
“No, I’m good. And really, how bad can it be?”
“If you find out he is cheating on you? Really bad.” She pauses to give me a considering look. “Unless you don’t care anymore.”
“Oh, I care.”
“Then maybe you should have some company.”
“No,” I repeat. “This is going to turn out to be all in my own head.”
Karen sighs, but she lets it go.
Thirty minutes later I’m parking behind the store. I’m working the morning since I know Edric won’t be leaving until around three or so. His gig’s in Sweetwater tonight, which isn’t that far out of town. He’ll want to miss the rush hour traffic, but it’s not like he has a whole day of driving ahead of him.
“I sure hope your uncle’s going to be okay,” Cassidy says when I come in the back door.
