Bigamist Read online

“Similar to ours but does everything except connects to a cell phone and it doesn’t do a thirty second EKG like ours or allow the patient to send the report to the doctor.”

  “I haven’t seen it,” he says while again scrolling through his iPad, answering email from his cell phone. “I need to know more about it.”

  “Hence, my sending the info to you to learn more. We need to seriously consider the competition. See, theirs would cut out the wait between the patient contacting the doctor, the patient coming in or going to the ER—the medical team could find out immediately if atrial fibrillation is detected. It could change everything.”

  “I’ll take a look later…”

  “The downside is the patient would need to constantly be connected to the Internet, or some-thing.”

  “What’s wrong with that?” he asked. “I’m not into technology like that but most of our patients are.” Beads of sweat were forming on his forehead.

  “Really? I can’t tell,” I injected, attempting to make a joke. “What are you reading?”

  It was as if he didn’t hear me.

  Rick hadn’t taken his eyes off his device while continuing to eat so I loudly scooted back a chair, sat my mug down on the black rod-iron patio table, and took a seat. A light breeze kissed my cheeks. “Hey.” I blew on my tea and took a sip trying to create noises. “I forgot to tell you…” I turned back to see if I’d finally captured his attention. I hadn’t. He was still scrolling and reading, rubbing his chest. “Remember the other day when I looked in on your patients for you?” I was still waiting on him to acknowledge I was speaking to him. “Babe?”

  “Hm?”

  “You okay?”

  “A little indigestion, I guess.” He lightly pounded his chest with his fist.

  “The other day when I did rounds for you, remember?”

  “Yes, what about it.” The iPad was placed on the counter, along with his phone, and Rick concentrated on his breakfast.

  “Ms. Gomez—that wouldn’t let me examine her—with the peripheral artery disease…”

  “Yeah.”

  “She said something strange.”

  I heard his fork land on the plate, which signaled to me he was done eating. He didn’t respond so I assumed he was waiting for me to finish.

  “She said she’d met your wife, while accusing me of not being her.”

  It took him a minute, and then I heard him coming towards me. He stepped out onto the patio, placed his cup of coffee on the table, and pulled back a chair. “Yeah, that is strange.” He rested in the chair across from me. “Do we have something around here for indigestion?”

  I made eye contact with him. “And then she asked if we had a little girl.”

  Rick put the mug up to his mouth and took a long sip, still holding my gaze. When he placed the mug back onto the table, he let out a slight chuckle, saying, “What?”

  I searched his face. Not knowing what I was expecting to see, but if there was going to be something there, I wanted to capture it. There was nothing. “That’s what she asked me.”

  “She’s a sweet lady. I don’t know why she’s confused.”

  “And then she wanted to know how long we’d been married.”

  “Well, technically we’re not,” he scoffed. It was something he frequently held over my head.

  “We are according to the state of Texas. Anyway, I just thought it was strange and wanted to tell you about it.”

  “Bless her heart—literally,” he joked.

  We both laughed at that a little and I wanted to let it go. I did let it go but only for a minute. It’s not that I didn’t trust Rick, but our life together was so open and unconventional that my spirit remained on alert. As much as I wanted to rest and ignore, I stayed on alert. He wasn’t a perfect man and our relationship wasn’t perfect, however, it seemed perfect for us. We did mostly everything together. We shared everything it seemed. He was my rock and my cloud. He was and had always been my soft place to land.

  “I’d better be getting to the hospital,” he said, interrupting my thoughts.

  “Yeah, me too.” I drank the last bit of my tea. “But first, the kitchen needs cleaning.” I stood, picking up both cups.

  “I can do that. Get dressed while I clean up and we can leave together and drop off the signed contract.” He took the cups from me, kissed my lips, and entered the kitchen.

  I hated how I felt. Even though everything was so normal, the alarm in my spirit was disturbingly loud.

  After changing my plans and sending Rick on ahead to drop off the contract, and then to the hospital, I sat at the desk in our study, not believing what I was finding—or not finding. I never had a reason to check before but there was no official record or documentation of him divorcing Amy. There were all kinds of sites on the Internet where public divorce records would be listed and his and Amy’s was nowhere to be found. A search could be done throughout the country, by state, and even by county. I did it all. Most of the sites were free but some charged a fee. I did the free ones and I paid, yet, there was nothing.

  None of it made sense. Why would he propose to me if he weren’t divorced? Even better, why would he pressure me to get married if he was still married? I knew Rick well—his challenges, his assets, his flaws—I knew him. He was a man that took care of business with his patients but sometimes neglected things at home, leaving them to me. I knew he was proud of his career as a surgeon but worried about what the general public thought of him. I knew he needed to be loved by his patients but was unsure about the love his own children had for him. I knew he loved praise in general, wanting everyone to adore him. But did I know everything that he was capable of?

  Rick’s attitude of needing to be adored wasn’t abnormal in our profession so over the years, I’d overlooked it; but, what now? Amy still hadn’t returned my call but in light of the new information, involving her didn’t seem like the best thing to do. This really should be between Rick and me. At least for now.

  I picked up my keys and phone, headed to the garage. I honestly didn’t want to wait a minute more. I felt like a crazy woman, but the sun wouldn’t set on another day with this mystery hanging over my head. Are Rick and Amy still married? Had he been too lazy to get a divorce? I had questions that I was afraid to get the answers to—and I was afraid to not get the answers to.

  The Bluetooth connected in my car and I waited for Rick to pick up.

  “Hey sweetie, you on your way in?” was how he answered my call.

  “Yeah, I just walked out. Can you meet me in your office? We need to talk.”

  “This sounds serious. Everything okay?”

  “I don’t think so. It’s about you and Amy—but we’ll discuss it when I get there.”

  “Amy?” He let out a long, loud breath. “Did we get another one of her bills?”

  “This is much more serious than a bill. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  First there was silence, and then he spoke, “Okay… I’ll be in my office when you get here.” His tone was resolving, as if years of exhaustion was about to be put to rest.

  “Did you take something for that indigestion?”

  “I’m fine. I’ll see you when you get here.”

  “Okay.”

  “I love you,” he spat out, and then disconnected the call.

  As fate would have it, just before I pulled into my assigned parking space, my phone rang and ‘Amy Hart’ popped up on the display.

  Should I answer?

  Do I send it to voicemail?

  I stared at the screen as the ringing continued and until I no longer had to make the decision. Not knowing if I would even need to call her back, I took in a few deep breaths, turned off the ignition, and stepped out of my car.

  With every step, I wondered if asking Rick about this at the hospital, our work place, was a good idea. No, it wasn’t. But since I didn’t seize the opportunity when I had it, who knew when we’d both be home at the same time again. In fact, the hospital felt more li
ke home and home felt more like a vacation spot. At any rate, there was no changing the plan. I had to have an answer today and I was moments away from one.

  The corridor was emptier than usual, and I appreciated that because it lessened the chance I would be distracted by someone or some emergency. I passed the window and could see Rick at his desk. A couple of soft knocks on his door and I pushed the handle, opening it slightly.

  Rick stared ahead, blankly. I waited on him to acknowledge me, but he kept his eyes straight before him.

  I stood in front of him, placed my keys in my pocket and my phone on his desk, and said, “Look, I’m here for straight answers. I’m sure you’ll agree that I deserve that.”

  Rick still hadn’t looked my way. And then, I noticed his face was still. “Rick!” I went to him on the other side of the desk, touched his arm, and shook him. His body fell forward while I still held his arm. “Rick!”

  He wasn’t breathing. I pressed the intercom on his phone and called for a crash cart and lowered him to the floor. It seemed to happen all so quickly because the room was full, and we were all working to start Rick’s heart again.

  8

  Iris

  …so, I wasn’t complaining…

  I was too busy to notice that something wasn’t right.

  Marigold had been blowing up my phone, but I was preoccupied and never called her back.

  I was busy—not because I’d been online engaging with my followers, but because baby-duty was non-stop. It wasn’t like I hadn’t tried to check in with what was going on online, and I knew they were waiting on an update from me, but the minute I tried logging in, I’d get pulled away.

  Ghosting for a successful blogger and Internet celebrity was detrimental to that success. If I were missing too long, I could be replaced quickly. Any perfect storm of events could cast a shadow on even the most well-known. Any new trend or even a scandal could shift the focus somewhere else and getting back in front would take a lot of work. Remaining relevant was a daily chore. I had to know current language, all of the hot topics, and, of course, keep up with what was trending—while trying to be what was trending. What and when women buy—or don’t buy—a product based on my word and feedback on said product, I have to know what’s going on in the world to properly inform and persuade them.

  Marigold had stocked several maternity products in my closet waiting for me to try out and post an opinion on. Clothes, shoes, and make up were constantly being sent to me but most recently, nursing bras, post-pregnancy waist shapers, and a ton of baby items, that I’ll probably never get through, were waiting for me to try on, open, or unwrap. I did my best not to feel overwhelmed, wondering if I was truly being missed in cyber world.

  Darius wasn’t sleeping all night but thankfully, Mom was still here helping while Erick worked all manner of hours at the hospital. This was my life and it was no different when Jersey was born, so I wasn’t complaining. Not really. I was used to it. Kind of. But there was no mistaking the pandemonium at the house.

  Friends and neighbors visited, bringing food and gifts over and all of this, for sure, was helpful. We had people keeping the house clean, so this freed Mom up to help me with the kids. When I was up every few hours throughout the night, she allowed me to sleep during the day when I needed. It was the same routine as before.

  Erick was due to come home, taking a few days off from the hospital, but when I’d spoken to him last, he had been delayed. That was nothing new, but I missed him. Holding the baby up to the phone or computer was the next best thing to Erick being home. It helped get me through.

  Darius, cradled in the crook of my arm, was nursing while I rocked in a chair in the nursery. There was no sun coming through the window and it sounded as if raindrops were tapping on the window. The baby and I both were being pulled by the Sandman. He’d nurse, and then he’d sleep—nurse, and then sleep. The routine continued as my eyelids got heavier and heavier.

  I didn’t hear the door open but suddenly Mother was standing in front of me. Her eyes were motionless and there were no creases in her forehead, as it was when she was about to say something. I waited for the crease to form but she simply stood and stared.

  “Mom… you okay?” I stopped rocking.

  There was still no crease, but her mouth opened.

  “Mom,” I said much louder.

  She swallowed, and a line slowly appeared above her eyebrow. “Erick is working in Dallas—at Baylor, right?”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “On the news…” She pointed toward the door. “Erick…” Her arm was suspended mid-air. “He collapsed—this morning—I think he’s…”

  “Collapsed?” I unlatched Darius and got on my feet. I placed my baby over my shoulder, lightly patting his back, and twisted my ankle trying to get out of the room.

  I heard my mother say, “Let’s stop and pray first,” as I whizzed by her.

  A second later I leaned into the kitchen counter, trying to tune into the television while I opened my iPad. Once it came to life, alerts flooded the screen. I’d already missed whatever my mother had seen on the news, so I figured I could find something online. The alerts were slowing down the operation and then I was curious why there were so many. Sitting in my inbox was message upon message of people sending me a looped video of Erick standing at our front door, taking me to the hospital. The sender asked if Erick and I were married and if I knew he already had a wife. It was an odd thing to ask but, the majority of the messages had a similar tone.

  My mother slipped the baby from my arms. “Get to the hospital. I’ll be here with the kids.” She stepped back. “Glenn is going to drive you.”

  Glenn was our neighbor and he was waiting in the driveway when I walked out of the back door. His cheeks were flushed but he remained silent while I situated myself in his front seat.

  With my purse in one hand and my phone and iPad in the other, I stepped up into his truck while he held the door. My eyes bounced back and forth from both screens as he drove.

  9

  Amy

  Tears were rolling down…

  It was an hour and twenty-minute trek to Dallas and I probably shouldn’t have been making it alone. But the voicemail Dr. McDaniel left me was disturbing, at best. The earlier message she’d left seemed innocent enough but this last one instructed me to get to the hospital as soon as I could.

  I had made this drive many times over the years; however, I hadn’t made it in a long time. But, not so long that I didn’t remember the way. The parking had changed and there were more buildings but there was enough familiarity at Presbyterian Hospital in Dallas for me to get around. The one thing that hadn’t changed was the stale smell of disinfectant—the whole reason I hated hospitals. I tried not to breathe in too deeply as I made my way through the maze, reading signs and following arrows.

  I rushed down the back hall to Ricky’s office where Dr. McDaniel told me to meet her. She was standing outside the door, speaking to another staff member when we made eye contact. We recognized each other’s faces.

  She ended her conversation, sending the young woman off.

  “Hello, Amy.” She held out an arm and guided me across the hall through another door. I could see her nameplate next to the door’s frame.

  I followed her. “Hello, Dr. McDaniel.”

  She closed the door behind her. “Please, call me Rose.” She pointed to a chair in front of her desk.

  I accepted her offer and blurted out, “What’s going on—where’s Ricky?”

  “I’m so sorry to break it to you in this way…” She cleared her throat. “But… Rick died suddenly just before I called you.” She cleared her throat again and seemed to be struggling to hold back tears. “It appears to be cardiac arrest and I just didn’t want to say that over the phone in a message,” her voice trailed off.

  “Died?” I stood to my feet again. I heard everything she said so I wasn’t asking her to repeat herself. “Where is he?”

  “I can take y
ou to him but before I do, I just wanted to clear up some things.”

  “Oh, my God…” My breath was caught in my throat and my chest ached. I watched Rose get me a bottle of water and hand it to me. “He’s dead?” I sat again. “Were you there? What happened?”

  “Like I said, I think a heart attack. He was in his office… We did all we cou…” her voice cracked as she was losing her battle to hold back tears. “I thought he had been feeling pretty good lately, so this came out of nowhere.”

  “Well, he was fine when he was home last.”

  Rose paused a moment and then said, “I wanted to tell you so you could notify his children before they heard it on the news.”

  “Right.” I took out my phone and scrolled through my contacts.

  “Here, I’ll give you a minute to call and then take you to see him.” Rose stepped out and waited in the hallway.

  Kylie’s name flashed across my screen and that’s when I knew I was too late. The Internet moved news at such a speed that bad news made it around the world a hundred times before good news could even get out of bed.

  “Kylie. I was just calling you and Kory.”

  “Is it true? Daddy has another wife?”

  “What… no… uh, I was calling… Your dad died today. He had a heart attack.”

  “What?”

  “Let me get Kory on the line. Hold on.” I was a pro at conference calling with the kids and I was thankful because the three of us needed to connect.

  “Kory? Kylie? You both there?”

  “Yes,” Kylie answered.

  “I’m here.”

  “Your dad died late this afternoon. I was trying to get a hold of you before you found out some other way.” Tears were rolling down my face, but I tried hard not to let my crying come through in my voice.

  I heard Kylie crying and I knew my voice would crack if I spoke.

  “Where was Dad when it happened?” Kory asked.