unconventional

Chapter 2

Erika

I sigh as I look across the table at my best friend. Jenn's the one who has always been there for me, through thick and thin, through rejection and success. She's my one friend who I feel I can show the true Erika, not the one the cameras see, but the real person under the makeup and hair spray.

The dining room of the restaurant around us is mostly empty. It's nearly three o'clock, late for the lunch crowd and too early for dinner. I'm due at the station in an hour for makeup, but I need this reprieve. I need my best friend, and as always, she's here.

“Babe," Jenn says softly. “A sigh isn't an answer."

“I just don't think I have an answer."

“Do you love him?"

I shrug in a noncommittal way. “I did. When he proposed, I did. When we were married, I did. I think I do. He's like that sweatshirt you've had for so long, the one that keeps you warm and is always there, but it's also different than when you first got it." I tilt my head. “The shine is gone. I mean, after all this time, the spark is supposed to die out, right?"

“No."

“Oh, come on," I say, lifting my brows. “You're telling me that you and Paul still have the hots for one another, the same as when you first started dating?"

“Not the same. Better. We know each other. I know what he likes and vice versa."

“Yeah, I get that, but it's routine. Like tacos on Tuesday."

Jenn laughs. “Really, Erika, when's the last time you ate a taco?"

I look down at my Greek salad, complete with feta cheese, olives, and pine nuts. Even with a few slices of grilled chicken, the calorie count with the red vinegar dressing doesn't exceed four hundred, and I only used a small part of the dressing. After the two-hour workout I had this morning with my trainer, preceded by a two-mile run with my husband, I should be hungrier. However, the mind is a powerful thing. Every ounce on my body looks like ten pounds on the television screen.

Damn high definition is the devil.

“Okay," I admit. “So I don't have tacos on Tuesday, but you know what I mean."

“Mix it up. You could have fish tacos."

I scrunch my nose. “I don't think we're really talking tacos. And truthfully, I don't know if I have the energy."

“To have s*x with your handsome, supportive husband?"

“To have the desire to have s*x. I'm not sure either of us is willing to try anymore." I sigh again as I use my fork to separate the pine nuts from the lettuce. “It's like there's so much happening, too much to make our relationship a priority." I look up as my pitch rises. “There's a rumor that a local Chicago affiliate is looking for a new anchor. It's the early morning slot, but it's a step closer to a bigger market. It's a giant market compared to Milwaukee. Just imagine a national affiliate. Erika Ellis..." I lift my hands as I say my name. “...bringing you the news from Chicago or New York. The news networks are where it's at. I could have my own show...the Erika Ellis hour on MSNBC or CNN or CBS."

“You know I love you, right?"

“Yes," I answer with a sense of heaviness. This is why I called Jenn. The truth hurts, but sometimes pain is the best medicine.

“You're running away and not facing the real issue. It's a diversionary tactic that can only work for so long."

“Maybe that's it. The time has expired."

“Erika?"

I drop my fork and look around. No one is close enough to hear us. Nevertheless, I lean forward and speak in a low voice. “The real issue is that I've worked my ass off to be a success in this business. Literally!" I twist my body to look at my own ass, and back to my friend. “I work out. I research. I smile at the damn cameras and show off my stupid legs. Do you know that the damn number crunchers have my skirt length to the millimeter? To the damn millimeter! Too long and we lose ratings. Too short and we lose ratings. Need to keep the men happy and not upset the jealous women."

“I think you're concentrating on your career instead of your marriage."

“We ran together this morning. It's the first time in a week that our schedules have allowed it."

Jenn nods. “Okay. Did you talk?"

“No. I mean we spoke, but we didn't talk. It was only two miles, but I had the audible rundown of tonight's headlines to listen to."

“Twice a week, Paul and I go out to dinner."

I humph. “Seriously. It's hard. Someone always recognizes me. It's not like we can be alone."

“Then order in."

“I think I should face the fact: my marriage is beyond repair. I've failed." I shrug. “He's failed. We both have."

“Since when is Erika Ellis a failure?"

“Do you ever think about things?" I ask, afraid to vocalize my true thoughts. “Things that you shouldn't think about?"

“Are we talking a hot fudge sundae or something else?"

I shrug. “Something else."

“Go on."

“It's that I'm tired. I'm tired of the fight. The fight to keep my anchor seat, of trying to move to bigger markets when there are women five years my junior sitting in those chairs. I'm not getting any younger. I'm also tired of working to save that spark that isn't there. I can only fan the flame for so long. Why should it be up to me?"

“Because you said I do. Tell me, has a line been crossed? Has he ever cheated on you?"

“I don't think so."

Her brow furrows. “You don't think so?"

“He seems preoccupied."

“With what?"

“I don't know. I haven't asked."

“Have you ever cheated on him?"

“No. I wouldn't...willingly." I wasn't sure where the last word came from, but it slipped out.

“Excuse me?"

“Okay, I wouldn't. It's just that I have these thoughts, and my husband is damn perfect. He's supportive of my career. He's always there, like that worn-out sweatshirt or a pathetic puppy. Maybe that's the problem. He's too...too accommodating."

“There are people who would kill for a handsome man who's supportive and accommodating."

I fidget with the remains of my salad before lowering my fork to the table and taking a drink of the ice water. Jenn is right. I should be happy with what we have, but I'm not. Maybe it's my concern over my career. Maybe it's that the spark went out and I don't know how to rekindle it. Maybe it's that I've let my fantasies overpower my reality. Maybe it's...I blurt it out, “He wants a baby."

Jenn's eyes open wide. “Shit."

“Yeah." I pick up the fork and go back to moving the lettuce, pine nuts, and clumps of feta cheese around. Though my appetite is gone, in the red vinegar dressing the design is rather appealing.

“Erika, look at me."

I don't. I keep moving the contents of my plate.

Her hand slaps the table. I jump as the silverware rattles. “What?" I look up, knowing my eyes are moist.

“When?"

“He first brought it up over six months ago."

“And now...is that when...?"

I suck in a breath as my shoulders straighten. “With a kid, my chances of advancement in my industry are less than fifty percent of what they would be now. And now, they're not great."

Jenn shakes her head. “Does he know your feelings?"

“Sort of. He said he'd raise it."

“It?"

“The kid."

“That's not an it. It's a person. Besides, I thought the two of you talked about children before you married."

“We did," I say, “but that was nearly five years ago. Back then, we said we'd wait. In his mind, we've waited. I just can't think about that right now. And since he brought it up, every time he suggests...sex...I panic. You know that I can't take the pill and with the possibility of weight gain with some of the other forms of birth control... He's always...I know I'm being paranoid, but what if he made the condom defective on purpose?"

“Do you think he would?"

“I don't know what I think anymore."

“Honey, have you brought this up at the marriage counselor's? You said you're seeing one, right?"

“I haven't brought it up to anyone...until now."

Jenn's head tilts in her understanding way.

I can't believe I'm being this honest. It's cathartic and liberating...and I know what needs to happen. If I can't be who my husband wants and in my heart, he isn't being who I want...who I need, then the answer is clear. I just need to face it. But why does it always fall to me? For once I wish he'd take control.

I take a deep breath and sit straighter. “Thank you for meeting with me. I really needed it."

“And?"

“And I need to get to the station."

“Erika?"

“I know what I need to do. I just wish sometimes that it's not always up to me to take the lead. But it's time to face the facts and move on. I'm not happy. I don't make him happy. We need to come to terms with the reality."

“Maybe if you told him."

“Why, Jenn?" My eyes fill with tears. “Why do I need to tell him? Shouldn't he know?"

“I'm not sure that's fair."

I stand and reach for my large purse on the back of the chair. The restaurant is virtually empty, yet I can't allow Erika Ellis to appear anything less than perfect. I straighten my shoulders and plaster my smile in place. “Life isn't fair."

Jenn stands and gives me a hug. “Call me. You know I'm here for you."

I nod before walking away.