Таррин Фишер - The Wives

She blinks rapidly as she looks away, like she can’t believe he’d do such a thing.

“I haven’t been able to throw her things away yet.” She nods to a space between the TV stand and the kitchen where a basket of dog toys still sits. It’s overflowing with bright balls and stuffed toys—a spoiled dog.

“Did you have sex when he came here?”

Regina’s head snaps toward me, her face a mask of outrage. “How dare you,” she says. But there’s something there, concealed behind the anger...admission.

“You did.” I swipe my hair behind my ears. I don’t feel anything; of course I don’t. I know Seth has been having sex with his other two wives this entire time. I just made sure the sex with me was better than anything they could offer. I was more waxed, more flexible, more responsive to his touch. Regina is back to just blinking.

“Why are you pretending with me? Seth is acting like I’m crazy, making up the entire story about his relationships with you and Hannah. I just want the truth.”

“I don’t know Hannah,” Regina says. “And I’ve already told you that we’ve been over for a long time.” Her legs are folded up underneath her, and I can’t help but think it’s to make her appear taller, like those heels she wears.

I shake my head. I’m not crazy. I’m not.

Her nostrils flare and I can see her chest rising and falling as she takes in short bursts of air. She’s trying to keep control. But for what reason? She stands up and moves toward the door and I know she’s about to tell me to leave. I have to do something, make her talk to me.

“I lost a baby...” The words tumble from my mouth and end with a dragging pain across my chest.

Regina freezes, her back to me.

It all started when I lost my baby. My life began to unravel, string by string. I may have been too consumed with grief to see the signs then, but I see them all now. Seth’s detachment, his wanting another woman, his preoccupation with sex when we were together. I was no longer the woman he wanted to talk to, I was the woman he wanted to fuck. That’s what my usefulness boiled down to in the end.

“I was five months pregnant. I had to...” I swallow the welling of emotion. I need to get this out. “I had to give birth to him.”

Out of the corner of my eye I see her turn around to face me. I look up at her; her face is horrified, her mouth slack and her eyes large. He never told her. I bite the inside of my cheek and force myself to keep talking.

“He had red hair...just a little bit...but it was red. I don’t even know where that came from. No one in my family has red hair...”

Talking about my baby validates his existence here, even if it was brief. He was so tiny and his red hair was more just a dusting of orange. The nurses had marveled at it, which only made me sadder. At the time I’d held on to that little detail, his body so small it was lost in the blanket they’d wrapped him in. I was allowed to hold him for a few minutes, my mind jumping between wonder and grief. I made this. He’s dead. I made this. He’s dead. I’d not named him, though Seth wanted to. Naming him made his death real and I’d wanted to forget.

Everything I keep so carefully guarded is welling up inside of me, my tear ducts burning.

“Seth’s mother,” Regina says softly.

I swallow hard. I’d never even seen a picture of his parents. Seth told me that they didn’t care for having their photo taken.

“She did?” I want her to say more. I need her to.

“Yes. Long and beautiful.”

I swallow the lump in my throat. “What happened to them? How did they die?”

Regina clasps her hands in her lap, shakes her head sadly.

“His father shot his mother, and then turned the gun on himself. It was tragic, a huge blow to the family.”

My mouth falls open. “I don’t understand. When did they die? What about the other wives? Their other children?”

She shrugs. “We were already married when it happened. His father wasn’t well. He’d been diagnosed with schizophrenia when he was a boy, said God told him to do things. They were very...religious.”

“Did you ever meet them?” I think about the cards, the ones that supposedly came from them, written in his mother’s handwriting. No, Regina can’t be right. Seth’s parents had sent us a wedding present. Hadn’t they? No, it was all Seth’s perfectly constructed lie.

“I did. They were odd people. I was glad to move away. They didn’t even come to our wedding.”

I want to tell her that they missed ours, too, but she’s on a roll and I don’t want to interrupt her.

“Seth was somewhat obsessed with his father.”

“In what way?”

She seems relieved to be talking about something other than her relationship with Seth.

“I don’t know. I suppose in just the way boys are with their dads. They were close. His father was really unhappy when we left. Said Seth was abandoning his family.”

“Did you ever try to have children?” I ask. A sudden change of subject.

Regina doesn’t like this question.

“You know I didn’t want children.”

“Why?”

“Does a woman still have to explain herself when she doesn’t want children?” she snaps.

“No... I mean...you married the son of a polygamist. He must have told you that he wanted a family.”

She looks away. “He assumed I’d change my mind, and I assumed he loved me enough to drop it.”

Something nags at the back of my mind, it’s so familiar—a song you can almost hear the tune to but don’t know the name of.

The defensiveness has returned in her voice, her guard up once again. “I’ve answered all of your questions, Thursday. Please.” She glances at the door. “I’d like to be alone now.” I take her phone from my pocket and set it gently on the table before walking away. Before I leave, I turn back to where she’s standing staring out of the window, unseeing, and place a slip of paper on top of the magazines with the number to the burner phone I bought.

“Seth hit Hannah. You need to know that. When I found out and confronted him about it he got rough with me, too.”

A muscle twitches in her temple, a tiny pulse.

“Goodbye, Regina.”

When I leave Regina’s apartment, my head is spinning. I pause at the top of the stairs, my hand on the railing. Someone has scratched the word cunt into the metal with their keys. Regina could be lying about everything. I can’t actually trust my husband’s other wife, can I? Could it be that Seth lied to her, too? Lied about me and our relationship? I thought that perhaps he was keeping things from his shiny new wife, Hannah, but maybe he kept Regina in the dark, too. Had he lied to us all? Who was this man? Had I loved him so unconditionally that I’d gouged out my own eyes? Seth, who told me that Regina didn’t want children, and that’s why he sought out a second wife. Seth, who never told Regina that I’d miscarried our baby. There are so many secrets, and I’ve been blind for too long. It makes me feel sick that I’ve allowed all of this to happen. I need to speak to Hannah, make her tell me what’s going on. Where has he hidden Hannah?

I drive back to the Cottonmouth house, feeling worse by the minute. My stomach makes a loud appeal for food. When was the last time I ate? I pull into a drive-through and order a sandwich and a soda, but when I unwrap the foil, the sight of it makes me feel ill. I throw it away, sipping delicately on the Coke. I’m feverish, my face clammy and warm. I stumble into the house, my head spinning. The empty walls swim around me, and the smell of paint and rot makes me gag. Suddenly, I don’t want to be here. I’ll sleep just a few minutes, enough to make me feel better. I duck into the room and lock the door behind me. It’s only eight o’clock, but my body aches from exhaustion. I crawl into the stale-smelling bed, my eyes heavy, and I sleep.