“What do you think of this one?” Eloise ran her fingers over the handle of the stylish stroller. The futuristic three wheel design was practical and light. “Nice.” I lifted it to judge its sturdiness for use on my early morning jogs. “Not too heavy for you and the big wheels are a bonus for me.” I scanned the price tag and winced.
Before I could suggest a cheaper model, Eloise said, “I’ll find a sales assistant.” My wife kissed my cheek, her bulbous belly skimming my back as she waddled past me. Stranded in the flotilla of perambulators, I tried to be useful, wrestling with the catch to fold up the chosen stroller. Instead of folding, the stroller divided like an eager ameba. Its removable sun shade snapped off in my hands. As I bent over to reassemble the stroller, I chuckled over the irony of a mechanical engineer like myself who was confounded by baby equipment.
“Here, sir, let me help you,” the approaching sales assistant said. I looked up from the mechanism and to my shock found that assistant my wife had brought back was Alexis Noble, a former lover of mine.
She looked startled. “Jack Freidman! Oh my God. –You look great.”
“Alexis–you too. You haven’t changed a bit.” I paused, noting the sweat breaking out on my palms. “This is my wife, Eloise.” I could feel my neck burning. Suddenly my collar felt tight.
Eloise threw a bemused look my way before acknowledging Alexis. “Hi. Nice to meet you. You two know each other?” Eloise said with a teasing smile.
“Yeah, yeah. Alexis and I knew each other way back. Way back.” I gave a nervous laugh. Swallowing was difficult, suddenly. A trickle of icy cold sweat ran down my spine.
“Not that long ago. We were–we knew each other in college,” Alexis said to Eloise. Then, she addressed me, “How long have you been in LA? I thought you’d never leave Charlotte.”
“I landed an executive job with Honeywell a few years back.”
“Well done. I predicted you’d be successful.”
Eloise seemed to be growing impatient, rightfully so. It’s not every day your husband runs into the woman he abandoned at the altar. Eloise didn’t know that particular episode of my past; I’d never even revealed that I had been previously engaged–let alone that I couldn’t face my fiancée to tell her I couldn’t go through with it. It was something I had effectively blocked out of my own memory, so strong was my shame.
Here I was, in the awkward position of standing between two important women in my life. I feared that Eloise had already correctly appraised the intensity of my relationship with Alexis. I thought I detected a tinge of curtness in her voice as she asked, “So, about this stroller. Does it come in any other colours?”
Alexis ignored my wife’s tone, taking her time. Given Alexis’s predilection for scandal, I knew she was sizing up whether or not to make a scene. She pointed to the product information card attached to the handle and said, “All of the options are listed here.” Her gaze came back to me with a smug smile.
I gulped and found myself scanning the department store for emergency exits. No matter how well I handled this situation, I was in trouble. The jilted ex-lover would reveal my past indiscretions to the adoring wife who only knows me as reliable, steady and honorable. And the pregnant wife was living proof in Technicolor and full Dolby surround sound that, despite my previous claims to the contrary, I am in fact “the marrying kind.” It seemed the best option was to flee.
“You know what? I don’t think this one will do. Alexis, it’s been great to see you, but I don’t want to keep Eloise on her feet too long.” I said all of this while gently steering Eloise through the maze of baby buggies towards the aisle. I added in a stage whisper over my shoulder, “Her ankles swell up like ciabatas and it’s all over.”
“Hey!” Eloise halted and whacked me on the arm. “I like that stroller. It’s cute. Let’s just get it and we’re finished baby shopping.”
I was flustered. My ears began to ring, and I couldn’t form a sentence. “Come on, get out your American Express,” she prompted. Like a blithering idiot I proceeded to the checkout, needing to be led by my heavily pregnant wife. Alexis, meanwhile, rang the storeroom and arranged to have a stroller delivered to the pick up bay at the back of the department store. While she was engaged on the phone, Eloise smiled up at me. Her previous irritability had disappeared, as it always did when I was dispensing money for her benefit. “It’s a gorgeous stroller. You’ll be able to push the baby when you go for your jogs.” I tried to smile back at her.
All that remained was for me to sign the receipt and escort my wife out of the shop. Freedom was within sight, and so far Alexis had exacted no revenge. Maybe she’d cooled down, moved on. It had been something like 5 years since I disappeared on her, leaving nothing but a note saying “I’m sorry. I’m just not the marrying kind. You deserve a man who wants and likes kids.” I’d left her and North Carolina behind, like the frontier men of earlier centuries, heading west to escape dogged regrets and an uneasy conscience. A new job cured my woes, keeping me too busy to mull over my past misdeeds. For the most part, I managed to keep niggling thoughts of Alexis Noble at bay. If I did happen to think about her, I imagined her living in Florida, married to a professional golfer or property mogul. Big house, cute kids. It was a little fairytale I’d concocted to ease my conscience; yet, here she was in front of me, no ring on her finger, working for minimum wage in the baby equipment section of a mid-range department store in the suburbs of southern California. A far cry from “happily ever after.”
Eloise wandered a few feet away to fawn over baby clothes. Once I was certain she was fully focused on that task, I ventured a peek at Alexis. She still looked amazing, with her lean, athletic figure and a great set of bronze legs. My eyes travelled up her body, arriving at her face, only to find her glaring at me. The disdain on her face made me quiver.
“Sign here.” She slid the receipt across the counter. “May I see your credit card?” I’d just returned it to my wallet, but dutifully retrieved it. She compared the two signatures, perfunctorily, but lingered as if she wasn’t sure if the two matched. Her scrutiny, however fabricated, achieved its intended effect: making me feel dishonest and vulnerable.
In a businesslike voice, as she handed back my card, she added, “Thank you.” She looked down and the façade crashed, revealing a pitiful brokenness. The sight of that sadness was utterly unbearable. A violent urge to apologise, to admit how much I regretted that I’d treated her so shabbily, surged through me, making me shift from one foot to the other. My hands reached out, wanting to offer consolation, then fell back, not wanting to arouse suspicion in my wife. “I…er…I wish…” I stammered, trying to find words that matched the maelstrom of emotions inside of me.
She looked at me, her eyes brimming with tears. She cleared her throat and looked up. “For 7 years, 3 months and 4 days, I’ve fantasized about this moment,” she said bitterly. “About the things I’d say to you… The scene I’d make and how I’d feel as I’d watch you squirm.”
I felt my face blanch as I realised no apology would suffice, ever.
“Now, after all these years, the opportunity presents itself, and, damn it, all I feel is pity. For her.” She nodded towards Eloise. Alexis swept past me, heading over to where Eloise was cooing over a baby dress. “All the best with your baby,” Alexis said softly as she passed behind my wife.
“Oh, thanks.” Eloise glanced up from the outfits. “Nice to have met you,” Eloise called over her shoulder, but Alexis was gone. Eloise waddled over to me, her back arched and her hand on her lower back in that particular pregnant lady pose. Her full face was glowing with good health and contentment. “She seemed sweet. How come you’ve never mentioned her?”
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