Outside the Lines: A Novel

In the end, David pled guilty for the DUI and assaulting the officer, but since they were his first criminal offenses, his attorney was able to file a plea with the court to have the charges reduced. He was released after only a month in jail. He would have to pay a fine for the assault against the police officer and be on probation for driving under the influence, but considering the circumstances, things could have been much worse.

After he melted down in his cell with Rico, David was transferred to the jail’s mental ward, where the doctors loaded him up on meds and David nursed the shoulder he dislocated slamming it into the wall. The bruise on his forehead went away fairly quick, and now, medicated, the turmoil brewing inside him settled into a low simmer. The dosage they gave him wasn’t a high one, but it was enough to take the edge off, enough for David to try to figure out his next move.

The morning he left the jail, David stood on the front steps of the courthouse, unsure whether he should call Lydia to come pick him up. She hadn’t taken any of his calls during the month he was incarcerated and never came to visit, so he could only assume she was still royally pissed about what he’d done. After fuming with self-justification, he became plagued by the familiar stench of regret. He knew the only way to be washed clean of it would be for Lydia and Eden to welcome him home. It wasn’t like he had anywhere else to go.

The money he had taken from Lydia’s secret stash was returned to him when he left the jail, so he thought about taking a taxi home but then realized it might look indulgent to his wife. He wanted to impress upon her that he knew he’d made a grievous error but he had changed. For the most part, he was in control of his thoughts and his behavior, and when they threatened to spin off, he steeled his resolve against it. He chanted “I will get well” over and over in his head, and for some reason that seemed to help. Maybe it was the medication, or maybe it was because he hadn’t had a drink in thirty days. Now all he had to do was go home and convince Lydia to listen to him.

The officer who had released him gave him a bus schedule, so he consulted it to find one that would drop him near his house. It was midday and both Lydia and Eden would be gone. He thought he might surprise them by being there when they got home. He tried not to think about how poorly that might go over, but he knew they’d always found a way to forgive him before so he had little reason to doubt they would do it again.

It took two bus transfers to travel from downtown to their North Seattle neighborhood. David felt strange being out in the world again, as he did when he was released from a hospital stay. He felt vulnerable and raw, terrified others would point their finger at the crazy man who had shamed his family. Well, that’s going to change now, David thought. I’ll do whatever it takes.

When he got home, he noticed Mrs. Worthington, the woman Eden sometimes pulled weeds for, peeking out her living room window from across the street. He waved and gave her a big smile. Let her think he was returning from a vacation or a business trip. He knew Lydia didn’t advertise his illness or his resulting escapades. She was too embarrassed by them. He pulled out his keys and hoped Lydia hadn’t changed the locks. With her emergency stash of money gone, he doubted she could have afforded it. The key slid in and the tumbler turned effortlessly. David stepped inside and this house he had picked out with Lydia looked foreign to him. The walls seemed closer together. Could they have shrunk? He locked the door behind him and immediately set out to the garage in search of a painting he could sell. Money wouldn’t solve all of his problems with Lydia, but he knew it couldn’t hurt.

Like the swirling beginnings of a sandstorm in the desert, panicky thoughts rose in his brain. What if Lydia didn’t forgive him? What if no matter what he did or said she still wanted him gone? Where would he go? What would he do? Would he ever see Eden again? He needed to tell his daughter he understood why she had asked that waitress to call her mother. He needed to take away the hurt he had caused.

David began to breathe heavily and the sight of the empty vodka bottles on the garage floor roused a craving in him so strong it felt like it might carry him away. I will get well, I will get well, he chanted inside his head. It was the barest form of white-knuckled resistance against a growing tide of compulsion. He didn’t know how much longer he could keep it up.

“Please,” he whispered, not knowing exactly whom he was speaking to. He’d long ago given up any hope there was a God. If there was, He obviously wanted nothing to do with David. When he prayed, he did so to the unseen force that controlled his moods. “Please don’t let me spiral down again.”

Quickly, as a distraction, David dug through the stack of paintings he hadn’t taken with him the night he left with Eden. There was a trio-study of his daughter sleeping that might sell for a decent amount. The perfect bow of her lips, the careless fling of her arm above her head, a pale blanket rumpled all around her in the late afternoon light. He took the paintings inside and picked up the phone to call the Wild Orchid Gallery. They had loved his work there, once. He could make them love it again.

“Yes,” he said when the receptionist answered. “Is Cerina in today?”

“She is. May I tell her who’s calling?”

“David West.” He listened to the soothing piano music while he sat on hold, drumming his fingers on the kitchen counter. It only took a minute for Cerina to get on the line. He pictured her, lithe as a panther, dressed head to toe in black. He’d slept with her a few times, a year ago. He wondered if that was the only reason she offered to show his work.

“David,” she purred. “Long time no talk.”

“I know, I know,” he said nervously. “I’ve been struggling a bit. Painter’s block.”

“Terrible thing, isn’t it?” Cerina said sympathetically. “We thought we’d be doing a show for you, but when you didn’t return my calls, your wife said you were taking a sabbatical?”

“That’s right,” David said. Bless Lydia for that little white lie. “I have a few great portraits of my daughter I’d like to show you, if you’re interested. A trio of a child sleeping.”

“Oh? When were you thinking?”

“I could come right now.” David realized he didn’t have a car. He would have to call Rick and see if he could hitch a ride over to Bellevue, where the gallery was located. His paintings had always done well with the affluent Eastside types.

“I’m not free this afternoon.” Cerina made a clicking sound with her tongue. “Too bad.”

“Later this week, then?” David gritted his teeth. This was not what he had planned. He wanted to have a handful of cash to give Lydia the moment she came home. But he didn’t want to blow it with Cerina. If he worked her the right way, he might even talk her into doing a show. He wondered if he’d have to sleep with her again and was aroused at the thought.

“How about I call you?” Cerina said distractedly. “I’m pretty swamped at the moment, but as soon as something opens up, you’ll be on my list.”

David recognized the brush-off when it happened. He’d been through it enough times to know. “That’d be great. I’ll wait to hear from you then.”

“Thanks for calling, David,” she said. “Take care.”

David heard the phone click in his ear and he hung it up on his end. He stared at the paintings of Eden and tried to think of anyone else who might want to buy them. There was no one. His erratic behavior had burned so many bridges with the galleries in Seattle, he couldn’t imagine any of them welcoming him back. He’d have to find another way. Another city, maybe, where he could sell his work. He’d sit on the street corner with it, if he had to, peddling it to passersby.

For now, he decided the best thing to do was clean the house. This seemed like a reasonable activity. After all, he was going to be a new man. He figured he’d better start behaving like one. Do the unexpected. He’d dazzle his wife with his new and improved self, erasing any evidence of the unreliable man he used to be. He started in the kitchen and scrubbed every inch. He vacuumed and dusted, saving the bathrooms for last so he could shower before starting dinner. All the while he repeated in his head, I will get well, I will get well. The power of positive thinking had made some men millionaires. He figured if that was true, it could also make him sane.

It was about three o’clock when the front door opened and Eden entered. Her eyes went wide and she froze when she saw him standing in the dining room. He moved toward her with a big smile on his face.

“Hiya, Bug,” he said. “I’m home.”

She nodded, a stilted movement. Her lips were pressed into a thin line. She looked frightened.

“They let me out,” he told her. “I’m so sorry for scaring you the way I did. I’m so, so sorry and I promise I’ll never do anything like that again. I understand why you asked the waitress to call your mom, honey. It’s okay. I’m not mad anymore.”

Eden dropped her backpack to the floor and looked around the entryway. She wiped a finger along the edge of the wainscotting and stared at it. “Did you clean?” she asked incredulously.

David nodded. “I did. Your mom works so hard. It was the least I could do.” He pushed back his hair from his face. It was still damp from the shower he had taken. “I’m making enchilada casserole for dinner. Want to help?”

Eden took off her coat and hung it up on the rack by the front door. “Okay,” she said. The word was hesitant, but David took it as a good sign. He and Eden could always connect in the kitchen. He’d take it slow, he decided. Let her come to him. The last thing he wanted to do was to alarm her again. I will get well, I will get well.

They moved into the kitchen and David set himself back to the task of seasoning the chicken breasts he’d found in the freezer with cumin and chili powder. “Why don’t you find the shredded cheese while I finish this?” he asked Eden.

She nodded but averted her eyes, walking a wide circle around him to open the fridge. “How do you feel, Daddy?”

“I’m good, Bug. Much, much better.” He gave her what he hoped was a strong, convincing smile. “I had lots of time to think over the last month, and I am never going to get to that place again. I swear. I’ll do whatever I need to.”

“Even take your medicine?” Eden asked as she carefully opened the bag of shredded jack cheese.

“I hope I don’t need to, but yes,” David said. “I will. I promise.”

Eden looked over and smiled, though her eyes were shiny. She ran over and threw her arms around him. He hugged her tightly and tried to hold off the terror he felt pulsing through his veins after promising his daughter he would not fail. Why did he do that? How could he say those kinds of things when he’d never been able to keep his promises before? And worst of all, why did she keep on believing him?

They spent an hour putting the casserole together. David let Eden lay the tortillas in the dish and spread out the sautéed chicken over those. He drizzled a sauce he’d made from canned green chilies and garlic over the chicken, added the cheese and sliced black olives.

“What did you eat in jail?” Eden asked him as she sprinkled more onions over the next layer of chicken. “Was it awful? Did it have bugs in it?”

David laughed. “No, honey. It was bland, but no bugs. Just lots of oatmeal and mystery meat.”

Eden made a face. “What’s mystery meat?”

“It’s when you can’t tell what animal it came from. They grind it up and serve it like hamburger patties and call it steak. Only it’s not like any steak I’ve ever eaten.” He shuddered. “I’m glad to be home so I can have you cook for me again. I had dreams about your chicken soup.”

Eden looked at him with surprise. “You did?”

David nodded and opened another can of chopped olives. “And your cookies. I kept dreaming I was eating them with you. Only I couldn’t taste anything.”

“That would be kind of scary,” Eden said. She put the last layer of tortillas over the top of the chicken and sauce. “There! Is it ready for the oven?”

“Sure looks like it. We’ll add the tomatoes for some color when it’s done.” He picked up the dish and slid it in the oven. “Do you have homework?”

Eden nodded, reluctantly, and made another face. “Math.”

“What kind of math?”

“Long division. It gives me a headache.” She pressed her fingers against her temples and rubbed.

“Me too. But maybe we can figure it out together. Come on.”

They sat at the dining room table for the next hour, trying to wade their way through Eden’s homework. David wasn’t sure he was showing her the right way to do the work, but it felt so good to sit next to her. He tried to keep his thoughts focused on her. This is how Lydia found them when she walked in the front door around five o’clock.

“David.” This was the only thing his wife said. Her expression was hard, almost as though she was wearing a mask. He’d seen it before. She was protecting herself.

David stood up and placed one of his hands on Eden’s shoulder. “Hello, Lydia.” He knew better than to act like nothing had happened. He did his best to sound contrite.

“Daddy cleaned the whole house, Momma!” Eden announced. “And we made dinner.”

Lydia gave Eden a smile. “I can smell it. What did you make?”

“Chicken enchilada casserole,” Eden said. “With green chilies. And lots of cheese.”

Lydia closed the door behind her and set her purse on the dining room table. “Sounds wonderful, sweetie.” She looked at David and her smile disappeared. “I thought you would have the courtesy to call first.”

David shrugged. “I was afraid you wouldn’t answer.”

“I might not have.”

“Which is why I’m here,” he said.

Eden stood up, and David’s hand slid off her shoulder. “Daddy’s been helping me with my homework, too, Mom. I’m almost done.”

“That’s great,” Lydia said. “Why don’t you go upstairs and I’ll call you when dinner is ready?”

“I’m not done yet,” Eden said. “I still have two more pages.”

“We’ll finish it after we eat, okay?” Lydia said. She kept her eyes on David. He couldn’t tell what she was thinking.

“Go on,” David said to Eden. “Your mom and I need to talk.” I will get well, I will get well. He suddenly wished he had gotten his hands on some vodka before Lydia came home. He’d be able to calm himself down that way. He knew he could keep a handle on it. He’d done it before.

Eden headed upstairs, looking back over her shoulder as she left. Her eyebrows knit together and she was frowning. David gave her a little wave and a smile. His daughter wasn’t stupid. She knew how fragile this all was.

When David heard her bedroom door shut, he looked at Lydia. “She’s worried I’ll flip the table again.”

“She should be.” Lydia’s voice was cold. Her arms were crossed over her chest.

“I know ‘sorry’ doesn’t cut it, but I am so, so sorry for what I did. I don’t know what came over me.”

“You know exactly what came over you. Don’t lie to me. I’m sick of it.”

David’s shoulders slumped and he nodded, dropping his eyes to the floor. “You’re right. I stopped taking my pills. I drank. I asked Eden to come with me in the middle of the night without telling you. It was wrong. And I paid the price.”

“I’m not sure you’ve paid anything,” Lydia said.

David reached into his coat pocket and put the cash he had taken from Lydia’s secret stash on the table. “It’s all there, except what I used to pay for Eden’s breakfast that morning. You can count it.”

Lydia looked at the money and then back to David. Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t want to count it. I want a husband who doesn’t steal from me in the first place.”

David sighed. “I know, Lydia. If I could take it back, I would.” He hated how this felt. He wasn’t a child. He didn’t want to be scolded like one. He felt tendrils of rebellion winding through his thoughts. He didn’t know how to stop them.

“You can’t take it back. You took my child from me. Do you have any idea how scared I was? The terror that tore through me when I woke up and you both were gone? With no note? No nothing? I could strangle you for putting me through that, David. But I could kill you for putting our daughter through it.”

“I know. I deserve that.”

“Oh, you know?” Lydia laughed. “How can I ever trust you again? And how dare you just show up back at this house like nothing happened?”

“I didn’t. And I’m not pretending about anything. I’m telling you I know what I did was wrong. I had a lot of time to think over the last month, Lydia. This is it. I’m done. I’ll be seeing a new doctor as soon as I can get in for an appointment. I’ll work with them, I promise. I’ll do whatever I need to do to make up for what I’ve done to both of you.” He wanted to mean this. He had meant it when he got home only a few hours before. But his determination had already begun to crumble. He felt it breaking away.

“And why should I believe you this time?” Lydia demanded. “You’ve said the same things a thousand times before.”

“I never went to jail before. I never saw that kind of consequence. I realized how much I have to lose. Honestly. I did.” David’s head began to pound. He felt like he was standing on the edge of a great precipice. All it would take to send him spinning was a light wind. “I called the Wild Orchid. Cerina said she’d call me to take a look at my latest series. I’ll be making money soon.”

“It’s not about the money!” Lydia spat. “It’s about knowing you are a safe person for our child to be around. I couldn’t give a shit about the money as long as Eden doesn’t get hurt. Do you understand me?”

She was wavering. David could sense it. There was a softening in the muscles around her eyes. No matter how angry she got with him, David knew at her core Lydia loved him. It’s the reason she put up with so much for so long. He just needed her to do it one more time. Give him one more chance to make everything up to her. To make it up to Eden.

“I understand you.” David kept his voice quiet. Compliant. He acted like he always did when he wanted out of the hospital. Here, I’ll be a good little boy if you just let me go home. I’ll take my pills and do whatever you tell me to do. “I promise, she won’t get hurt.”

“She’d better not.” Lydia slumped into a chair and sighed. “Okay. You can stay. But you have to be good.”

“I will,” he said, and in that moment, he meant it. He wanted to be good. He truly did. He wished he was a normal man with a normal mind. I will get well, I will get well. The words pounded in his brain, useless ammunition against the fiendish thoughts he already felt swelling inside him. He would drink soon. He wouldn’t take his pills. He had no idea how long this resolve of his might last.