“Lauren?” She looks down at the woman passed out in my arms, her eyes wide with recognition, like she’s just seen a ghost. Her lip quivers, and her hand shoots up quickly to cover her mouth.
“You know her?” Jenna and I both ask in unison. My mom looks between Jenna and me.
My dad lets out a gruff sigh and covers his face. “Shit! Shit! Shit!” His groans escalate with each expletive, and I know something is wrong.
“Honey, go lay her down in the living room and take Jenna home. When you get back, we have something we really need to tell you,” she says, tears in her eyes.
“I’m not going anywhere! Who the hell is this woman, and why do you know her?” Jenna screeches.
“Jenna calm down,” I tell her. I know she’s mad and confused. So am I, but I won’t let her scream in my mom’s face.
“I will not! Who is this? She shows up saying she’s married to you, with a ring that costs a hell of a lot more than the one you gave me! You claim you don’t know her, but she knows Dexter. Your mother obviously knows her, and you think I’m going to be sent home like an errant child. I want to know who this woman is right now, or I swear to God, I will never speak to you again, Christopher!” Jenna says as tears stream down her cheeks.
“Jenna, please!” My dad roars, and we’re all taken aback, especially Jenna. The authority in his voice, for once, reminds me of a Crestfield.
“Please let Chris take you home. It’s not what you think. I promise you both will have answers by the end of the day; just let us take care of this for now,” his voice is calmer, but no less authoritative. Jenna looks at me, and I shake my head. I don’t know what’s going on, but I know Jenna, and my staying here will only make things worse. Besides, I really don't want to be here when this girl wakes up.
My dad comes over and reaches for the woman lying in my arms. I want to hand her over, but my body is hesitant, and I’m confused as to why I’m protective of someone I've never even met, especially with my dad. I trust him with my life. My mom looks me in the eye and reassuringly squeezes my shoulder.
“It’s okay. She’s safe with us,” she says, looking me directly in the eyes.
“Oh, FUCK me,” Jenna shouts, and I realize how this looks. I don’t understand anything that’s going on. I hand the girl over to my dad, but by the time I do, Jenna has shot down the porch and is headed toward her car.
“Jenna,” I shout, running after her. She whips around and holds her hand out.
“No. You stay! That is obviously where your concern lies right now!” She’s hysterical as she opens her car door.
“Jenna, no! It’s not like that!” I plead as she slams the door in my face. I try to open it but she’s locked it. She lets her window down.
“Stay the hell away from me, Chris. Go attend to your wife!” she yells before pulling out of the driveway. I kick the dirt and punch the air. My life has turned into a living hell. I glance up, and my dad is back in the house. My mom stands on the porch looking at me with tears in her eyes.
“How do you know her, Mom?” I’m shouting now. I know it’s not her fault, but she knows something. I’m so mad, there are tears in my eyes now.
“Christopher,” she pleads.
“Tell me!” I shout again.
“Chris.” My dad has reappeared in the doorway, and comes down to meet me. “Go after your fiancée. We’ll explain later,” he says. His voice is calm as he hands me my phone and keys, ignoring my perplexed expression. He takes my mother’s hand and leads her into the house.
I’m in the twilight zone. How is he so calm right now? I don’t take time to question him. I hop in my truck, ready to go after Jenna but slam my hands on the steering wheel. She’s not going to hear anything I have to say unless I have an explanation for all this.
I pull out my phone to call her. I see all the missed calls yesterday from Jenna, my parents, and Lisa. There are voicemails from each of their numbers, plus one unknown. I hit the prompt to play the one from the unknown number. At first all I hear is a lot of static and wind. Then it starts.
“You really are more fucking dense than I thought. All of these years, and you still think you’re just having blackouts? I don't have much time so I’ll get to the point. You can’t get married because you already are, dumbass. Talk to Dexter. Make this right, or I’ll have to do it for you. Stay away from any altars.” The voice chuckles. “No pun intended. If you don’t, there will be hell to pay. You can bet on that. Oh and by the way, since no one gave two shits to inform you, I’m Cal.”
I replay the message again and again. My hands won’t stop shaking. The scary part is, this is the second time today I’ve heard the name Cal. But, what terrifies me is the voice in the message is mine.
Chapter 21
This is a joke. Some sick, messed up, twisted joke. I slam my phone into the steering wheel as Dexter’s voicemail comes on for the thousandth time. Who did I piss off to deserve this? My whole life I’ve tried to do the right thing; listen to my parents, treat people with respect, follow the rules, and I end up with a brain disorder that causes me to have blackouts and amnesia.
Then, after everything that’s happened today, I get this voice on my phone—this asshole on my phone—adding a million questions to the hundred I had before even listening to the message.
How could this person sound just like me? Who am I kidding? It doesn’t sound like me, it is me. But how? It’s impossible. Why would I call myself Cal? It couldn't have been me. The worst part is, today of all days, this girl shows up claiming that I’m her husband whose name happens to be Cal. I’m afraid to put the pieces of all this together.
“Make this right, or there will be hell to pay!” Who the hell does this guy think he is to threaten me? Why would I threaten myself at all? This can’t be real. Maybe it isn’t my voice. I want to run back in the house and let my parents listen to the message, but the girl is still there. I definitely can’t deal with that right now. And why would I talk to Dexter about fixing this instead of my parents? I call Jenna, and pray for her to pick up. If anyone can tell if this isn’t my voice, it’ll be her.
“Don’t call me anymore, Chris!” she yells at me.
“Jenna. I really need to see you,” I plead.
“Oh, you need me? What about the wife you were oh-so-protective of? The one you supposedly don’t know?” she says sarcastically. I’m really starting to rethink letting her listen to this message.
“Jenna, I’m scared,” I interrupt. I’ve always been honest with her, and I hope that will count for something. There’s a long pause.
“I’m on the corner of Fourth and Higgins,” she says and hangs up the phone. Fourth and Higgins is only about three minutes away. I don’t usually speed, but today is an exception. I see her car parked right on the corner. I get out and walk to the driver’s side.
“Can I get in?” I ask. The scowl she gives me answers that question. I try to think of the best way to preface the message. To explain to her that I don’t know why this voice sounds like me, and the fact that it’s talking about things I have no idea about. I really need her help in figuring this out.