Two days after the Talking Points talk, D left for that trip I mentioned. He was thousands of miles away, and it was a great time to have some distance between the two of us. It also meant that I didn't have to see him for nearly a week - that was, in itself, extremely comforting.
As I am wont to do, I called my friend Gaia, who was one half of a couple who'd introduced D and I nearly 10 years before. Her boyfriend, Ted, had been friends with D for years. Gaia and D didn't get along very well; she made him anxious, and he made her uncomfortable. But she and Ted knew him like no one else, so I'd been leaning on Gaia a lot recently, asking for her uniquely spiritual perspective on things.
The Tuesday before Thanksgiving, I called Gaia during work on my cellphone, so I could pace. I was having a particularly rotten day, thinking about everything that had transpired, feeling anxious about how the hell things were going to work out in the long run. Ultimately, I couldn't escape that feeling that Little One was going to suffer because her father was such a turd. That was the last thing I wanted, so I was basically coming to terms with what it was going to mean to have to deal with said turd and make him seem like the father Little One deserved, not the father he actually had been, and was.
So in speaking to Gaia, she mentioned out loud about "the bellydancer." And I heard Ted in the background say something (I couldn't make it out). And then Gaia said, "Hey, you said this bellydancer's name was Sally, right?" And I said yes. And she said, "Ted, was that her? Sally?" and I heard him say "Yeah, that was her, no doubt about it." Her what?
Gaia paused a moment before speaking. "So - you knew that D and Sally knew each other before, right?"
"Yes," I said. "She was a friend of his when he went to college."
"Did you know that they were involved back then?" She was referring to the mid-90s.
I paused. Had I known? I thought back. Nope, definitely not. I can pretty much guarantee that this was knowledge that was new to me.
"No," I said quietly.
I heard Ted say something in the background. Gaia said to me, "Yeah, so - I don't know if this is going to make you feel better or worse, but it was D's involvement with Sally that caused April to break it off with him. There was some sort of menage-a-trois thing going on with them, only April didn't want Sally in it. D got involved with Sally anyway, so April broke off the engagement. And she never spoke to him again." Gaia paused. "I'm sorry."
I got that rush of anxiety-ridden adrenaline again, the one that had become so familiar to me. You might call it batshit-crazy-anger.
"Gaia," I said, as calmly as possible, "Thank you for telling me this."
"I'm sorry," she repeated.
"No, really - it's okay," I said. "I didn't know, but given that D has now used Sally to end the two most committed relationships he's ever had, I think this puts things into a bit more context." I was gearing up. "You know what, Gaia?" I said. "I will call you back later - I really think I need to talk to D right now." The pacing had become more frenetic. I'm sure I looked like a lunatic at this moment, walking in circles around the lobby of my big office building. I thanked Gaia again and dialed D's number.
"Hello?" D said.
"D, how are you," I said flatly.
"Good," he said, somewhat hesitantly.
"Great," I shot back. "Hey, I've got a quick question for you."
"Sure, what?"
"Were you involved with Sally back in the mid-90s, and was your involvement with her what caused April to break off your engagement?"
He paused. "Well, yeah, but - "
"That's all I needed to know," I said, and hung up.
Hey, I'm not proud of it. But I knew, if asked a direct question, using the element of surprise, D would manage to tell me the truth. And he did, so bully for him.
It was approximately 4 minutes later that I saw that he was calling me back. I had already traveled up the elevator to my floor, and ducked into a nearby empty conference room.
"What?" I answered the phone.
He sighed, forcefully. "You - what was - what the hell - why - ?"
"D, did it ever occur to you that this was something you should tell me?"
"I did tell you!" I'm sorry, you imbecile, but this is the kind of thing a woman never forgets.
"NO, D, you did NOT tell me. You want to know why I know this? Because if I had known that you were doing 'yard work' for someone that you had FUCKED previously? I can tell you that things would have gone down VERY differently."
He was livid, I could tell, but also knew he was wrong. "I thought I had told you," he said tightly.
"No, you hadn't, D."
"I - I don't know, I really thought - "
"You know what, D? You spend the rest of your trip thinking of anything else that I should know, and we can talk when you get home. Kay?"
"I - look, Penelope, I'm sorry, I really don't know why I didn't tell you."
"Yes, you do know," I said. "You know exactly why. Don't give me that bullshit. Tell your family hi from me. Have a nice trip."
I hung up.
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