Six Degrees of Seperation
AN: I'm SOOOOOOO sorry for the late update. I can just never manage to get on and type up my stories in one sitting. But, I finally did, so here you go, the next chapter to Six Degrees of Seperation. (: And just a clue for the next chapter, it will be called Tiffany. :) PLEASE review, the more people that do, the sooner I write. :)
It is said that anybody can be connect to anybody in the world by six people. A short chain of, "a friend of a friend" statements and you're meeting somebody on the other side of the world. Some people do it for amusement, a game, the person you start with is required to be a personal acquaintance. Only in this instance it wasn't a game. It was just fact.
The brown haired man rolled over in his bed. The absence of his wife was obvious as he looked over to see an empty half of the bed. He groaned. He knew, whenever she wasn't there when he woke up, something was wrong, as it had been recently. It was two weeks before his son's 7th birthday and things had been going downhill, but he hated to admit it, he wanted that . He threw the covers down past his feet. He lay still for a minute and thought of what he would say to his wife about what he was planning to do. Oh! Work late. He didn't do that often. He had to work late on a proposal with…Damn. That's the fallout. He had to either pick somebody she didn't know or somebody she would never ask. Jacob. Obscure enough. There were at least for in the office. Now, what were they proposing? Integrating green programs into the business environment. Perfect.
He sat up in bed and saw the bathroom light streaming from under the door. There she is. He stood up and strode over to the door and raised his hand to knock. Wait, knock? He was in his own house. His wife was in there. He reached down to the door knob only to receive an unsatisfying click in return. She had locked the door. He stood for a moment in a strange daze of confusion. He shook his head, messing up his hair and his thoughts, and then knocked lightly on the wood of the door. He heard a more enjoyable click of the lock. He opened the door and his petite wife stood before him.
"Hey, babe," he said and crossed behind her, facing the mirror. His hands wrapped around her waist and he placed open mouth kisses on her exposed neck. She sighed and her head leaned back, her eyes closed, a smile playing on her lips.
"Hey," she said, content with the current situation, apparently having gotten over their recent fight. "You need to get ready for work," she said with a soft expression on her face. He nodded and they moved around the house in a silent charade, going through the motions of a happily married couple. Their son woke up and participated in the act as well, eating his breakfast, and letting his hair fly awry, however it was when he woke up. Erica and Blaine got into the car, a smile plastered on the small woman's face. She wished her son a good day at school and watched him, genuinely happy, as he ran to the front doors of the building.
At the Anderson residence Daniel contemplated calling that number in his phone labeled Sam. To his wife, Sam was just another co-worker, a person to which she had not associated a face or any deeming characteristics. To Daniel Anderson, that number meant much more. It was what could be the straw that broke the camel's back regarding his marriage. It may be cliché but Samantha was that girl at the office. The 20-something year old blonde. The one that all the executives got distracted by when she entered a room. The one that had asked him if he wanted to meet for a drink one night, a week ago, and then proceeded to suggest they "go back to her place" afterwards.
He hesitated in responding to her. It was obvious what she was suggesting and the thought made his groin ached just looking at her perfect curves. It didn't make sense to him why she asked, but he was too distracted by the luscious expanse of skin exposed by her low cut shirt, which was covered by a form fitting blazer. He swallowed nervously and suggested exchanging numbers so he could get back to her some time this week. She did so and winked before turning to leave, his eyes following her swaying hips and that perfectly firm a-He abruptly stopped his thoughts and tried to shake them from his head. He was married for god's sake. Although, him not wearing his wedding band due to recent marital quarrels had probably stirred some water cooler conversations, and, in turn, lead Samantha to him.
Now, here he sat on his couch, the number in his phone from that day exactly a week prior. His fingers hesitating over the green dial button. He didn't know why, and probably couldn't explain it with and form of logic if anybody asked, but her called her.
The whole ordeal was strange. Like he was arranging a hooker instead of date. Wasn't he? He called and she answered with that sultry tone she had and continued, without pause for him to reply, that they would meeting at a bar, just a few blocks away from his home. Their "conversation" was very one-sided, him not having time to react before she said she had to go. He nodded silently on his end of the receiver.
"Daniel, are you there?" She asked sweetly.
"Oh, um, yeah, great, see ya," He replied anxiously, his throat dry from the nervousness.
"Bye, Daniel," She said with a breathy tone, causing his thoughts to go crazy.
What had he just done? He had one more call to make about his recent engagements but, if he didn't leave the house now he would be late for work. He got in his car, hooked up his Bluetooth and continued on to work, calling his wife on the way. He had no experience in lying to Erica, well maybe some, but not like this.
"Hey, Honey," He said with just a hint of sadness in his voice.
"What is it, Daniel?" She asked directly, knowing something was up.
"Jacob called as I was walking out the door and he said he needed help with a proposal and that he was wondering if I could stay late, it was an offer I couldn't refuse." He heard a sigh from the other end and took that as a sign a resignation.
"I'm sorry, babe." He said quickly. At the other end of the call she was nodding her head.
"It's okay, you don't stay late often," She replied with disappointment. It was true, he didn't, she could handle when he came home late, but she always hated Blaine's crushed face when his father didn't sit down at dinner with them.
"I'll try to be home as soon as possible, but it may get late, so don't wait up," he said coming up with that on the spot, almost forgetting the time restraints that would develop if he had to be home by dinner. "It's a very important proposal about integrating green programs," he finished apologetically.
"I guess I'll see you when you come home tonight? Or I guess in the morning when I wake up?" She said and you could hear the resolve in her voice.
"Yeah. I love you, Er." He said almost regretting his decision in this minute but that thought washed away quickly.
"Love you, too." She said as if she were required. That's how it had been recently, their interactions disconnected and lost.
He hung up the phone and now a feeling of accomplishment came over him, as he realized he just got away with it. He pulled into the parking lot and continued on with the patterns of his work day, his mind intensely focused on something not related to integrating green programs.
There was an awkward silence at the dinner table that same night, only the sounds of clinking silverware filling the voice.
"Mommy," Blaine said quietly, stirring his peas with his spoon without a purpose.
"Yes, Sweetie?" She replied, having an idea what her son's concern was.
"When's Daddy coming home?" He asked, piercing her with his hazel eyes that reflected his father's perfectly.
"I don't know, Blaine." She said seriously with a small shake of her head. They sat for a short moment before she made up her mind. She rose form the table silently, not saying a word to her young boy as she walked over to the phone. She dialed the number that had made it's way into her muscle memory, to where she didn't even have to look at the buttons. She heard the line pick up and waited for the greeting.
"Hello, my name is Jennifer, how may I help you?" said a uniform receptionist voice. She always called the desk and got transferred over to his line.
"Hi, I'm Erica, Daniel's wife," she said warily, not sure if she remembered hearing this voice when she called before. "I need to talk to Daniel?" She said more as a question.
"One moment, please." She replied and the tone of elevator music began playing. It was only a few moments until she head the click of the line being picked up.
"I'm sorry, ma'am," she replied with a tone of sympathy, "He's not in the office right now."
Erica's eyebrows wrinkled in confusion. "He told me he had to work late," she replied succinctly. At this point, she was worried, not angry yet, but she was soon to find out the real situation.
"Well, he's not here," a twinge of annoyance entering her voice.
"But he.." Erica started before she was so rudely interrupted by the other woman.
"Look, it's late, I'm tired, I want to go home, and it's really not my fault if your husband had other plans tonight." She was now extremely irritated. She was new to the company and had no idea who Daniel was but knew he'd left a while ago, and even if she wasn't new it wasn't her job to get into the realm of her co-worker's social lives. Erica quickly flustered by the secretary's assumption.
She went to dial a different number. Daniel's cell. She was going straight to the source even if he was at work like he claimed.
"Get out! Get out of my house!" The yells filled the room. You wouldn't imagine such loud noises coming form such a small person, but she was furious. "Go stay with your little slut!" She screamed spitting out the last word as if it were poison. She pulled the drawers out of her and her husband's shared dressing, throwing clothes at him, still yelling for him to leave as he tried to explain. She had found out the truth about where Daniel was that night a few weeks ago. At the time he'd answered he was in his car, saying he was going to meet Jacob for dinner instead of at the office, when actually, she later discovered, he was going to a bar to be with some whore.
"Erica but, I…" He said holding his hands up to shield his face as he backed out of their bedroom.
"But nothing!" She was full of rage, tears streaming down her pale face. She heard small footsteps behind her and they both froze in their actions. Erica turned to see their small 7 year old standing sleepily and rubbing his eyes.
"Mommy?" He asked his small voice drowsy.
"Yes, baby," She said wiping her eyes and dropping to her knees to be even with her son. His face contorted in confusion.
"Are you okay?" He said softly and moved his small hand to her tear stained cheek. She lightly, trying to make him feel better, and placed her hand on his. She nodded silently, her words caught in her throat. She finally choked out her words.
"Yeah, I'm okay," she said tears now brimming her eyes.
"Daddy?" Blaine said and looked past his mom's shoulder to his father. Daniel nodded his head, not saying a word. He hated for this to happen to his son, watch his parents fight like this. He'd just gotten past his injury from his birthday party and here he was causing another injury, that could eventually end in a much more painful result.
"Daddy, is going to have to go away for a while," Erica said looking in those hazel eyes, tears now spilling on to her cheeks. Her son removed his hand, his face now in concentration. He walked over to Daniel and wrapped his arms around his dad, Erica's eyes following him the whole way.
"Bye, Daddy," he mumbled, his face buried into his father. Daniel bent down his hands holding his son's shoulders.
"I'll be back as soon as I can," He watched his son nod, focusing only on the words he was saying. "Take care of Mommy, okay?" Daniel said, his eyes flashing over to meet Erica's and then back to his son, who continued to nod. "I love you, Blaine," he said and kissed him on the forehead. To which is son murmured a tired response. "Now, got to bed," He watched as his son walked off to his room, still sleepy, would he even remember this?
Erica looked at the lying, cheating, but hell of a father in front of her.
"Bye, Daniel," she said not breaking the seriousness in her gaze. Up until now, he had been wanting a second chance, but now he realized he didn't deserve it. And her concise statement confirmed he wouldn't be getting one.
He turned to leave the house to which he would occasionally return to. Then in time, in his mind, would cease to exist at all.