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Chapter Eight: Troublesome Findings


Unfortunately, the whole of the next week, Debra had taken a vacation. Dr. Reynolds wasn't very happy since Debra had only been back to work a week after Christmas before going on vacation again. Drake didn't really mind much. He could think about what exactly he was going to say to her. Besides, he had other things to think about that week. Christine had been sick that same week, and she'd needed to call in for a substitute teacher every day. Drake had been very worried about leaving her home alone, but she told him to go to work. Everything would be fine. Drake finally went to work, but later in the week, not before asking her if she'd consider seeing a doctor. She always replied that she was fine, but Drake thought it was going on too long for that to be the case. You didn't get sick every day when you were fine.

Finally one morning the following week, Christine had felt sick, but she felt well enough afterward to teach that day. She and Drake had also agreed to meet for lunch that day mainly because Drake wanted to check up on her. He was worried about her going back to work now. He figured, though, that she was better off at work where there were several students and teachers around rather than at home alone where no one could get to her if something were to happen and she was unable to reach anyone.

Christine quickly hurried into Drake's office building around noon because she was running late. She'd wondered if he'd talked to Debra like he said he would. Christine didn't want to get anyone fired, but the situation worried her. Inside, she ran into the other receptionist, Barb. Barb was fifty something and eager to help anyone with anything, no matter what it was.

"Is Drake in his office?" Christine asked.

"No," Barb replied. "Dr. Parker is in the back. You can go if you want," she said, pointing toward the small hallway in back of the reception desk. "I'm not sure which room he went into, but I don't think anyone else is back there. I'd go get him myself, but I'm a bit tied up at the moment."

"That's all right, thank you," said Christine. She walked through the door behind the reception desk and down the small hallway. She'd never been back here before. She never went past the reception desk. Which door would Drake be behind?

She finally heard movement in back of one of the doors and found it unlocked. Leave it to Drake to have to use the room farthest away from everyone else, she chuckled to herself. She turned the knob to find Drake...kissing Debra? He was. They were. Oh, God. Christine slammed the door shut and bolted back down the hall. She slowed down when she got to the back desk, trying to compose herself.

"Mrs. Parker, is something wrong?" Barb asked, standing up quickly. "Should I get your husband?"

"No, it's nothing," Christine said as she headed out of the building. "I'm fine. Don't worry about Dr. Parker. I'll have to call him."

Barb looked confused, but she did what Christine said and continued her work.


Christine sat in her car and felt the hot tears slip down her face. No. No. No, no, no! He wouldn't do that to her. He would never...oh, God, what was she going to do? There was no way she could face him at lunch. A sickening feeling covered her stomach. It was a bit different from how she felt earlier that morning. She had no idea how she was going to deal with it when he came home that night.

After a few minutes, she finally managed to compose herself and picked up her cell phone. She dialed Drake's number.

"Hey," said Drake, "what's up?"

"I can't come to lunch today," said Christine. She just couldn't get through a meal with him. Not now. Not just after seeing that. She needed to think things through. She wanted to believe what she'd seen wasn't true.

"Why not?" Drake asked.

"I don't feel well. I'm just going home." It wasn't a lie. She had actually been sick earlier that day, but it had subsided, and she thought she could go to work. However, after seeing what she saw, the feelings of sickness had returned.

"Are you okay?" Drake asked. "Do you need anything?"

"No," Christine responded. "I'll be fine. I just feel sick. I'm getting a sub for the rest of the day."

"Okay," said Drake. "Take care of yourself. I'll see you at home. I love you."

"I love you too," she replied. She heard her voice crack and quickly hung up her phone. She felt the tears start to fall again and pulled out some tissue. She managed to calm down and wipe her eyes and fix her makeup. She drove back to the school, requested a substitute teacher, and went home to think things over. But now the situation was even worse than before. She couldn't deny what she'd seen, as much as she wanted to. She knew what she saw.


Angela had come home on the bus about an hour ago, and Drake would be home soon. Christine just didn't know what to do. Should she confront him with what she'd seen? She wanted to believe it wasn't what it looked like, but how could she when it was what she saw?

She thought back to the conversation she'd had with her father. Had Drake fooled everyone? Of course he wasn't with anyone else in medical school, he didn't see many other women besides the ones in his classes. Stick him in the real world and things change. No. That wasn't Drake. Maybe he'd been a womanizer years ago, but he wasn't anymore. What was she supposed to do? She didn't want to accuse him of it, but she'd seen it. What was going on? She'd need a bit of time to really think this over. She felt too sick to deal with the struggle that night anyway.

She heard the door open, and Angela hurried to meet Drake like she did everyday. Drake came into the living room with flowers. Christine wondered why. Guilt? No, she'd said she still hadn't been feeling well.

"Hi," he said. "How do you feel?"

"Not much better," Christine replied.

She watched as Angela hurried upstairs while Drake sat next to her.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I was hoping these would cheer you up," he continued, referring to the flowers.

"Thank you," she said quietly. She stood up and felt new tears. She could only respond in short sentences, afraid the tears would fall. She took the flowers into the kitchen to put them in a vase.

"I can do that," said Drake.

"It's fine," she replied. Why was he doing this? Because she said she was sick? Or was it because he felt bad? Why was she second guessing his actions? Because of what she saw. She couldn't help it. What she'd seen was her husband kissing his secretary. It couldn't get much more clichéd than that. "I don't think I'm up to dinner. I'm going to bed," she said. "Will you and Angela be all right fending for yourselves?" She felt the tears and couldn't stop them. She purposely scratched her finger on a thorn.

"Of course," Drake replied.

"Ouch!"

"What's the matter?"

"I just hurt myself on a thorn. It's nothing." She turned around. It was the only excuse for the tears she could give.

"Go get some sleep," Drake said. "We'll be fine." He kissed her forehead before she left the kitchen and headed up the stairs. She didn't know how she'd make it to their bedroom before collapsing on the bed. She couldn't help it now. She cried, and the tears just flowed. Her thoughts ran continuously through her mind. What was going on? She'd pushed away all thoughts of it even being possible, and now this happens. She didn't want to believe it. She wished it was a nightmare. All she wanted to do was wake up. She had no idea what to say to Drake, and she had no strength for what was going to come out of this right now. She was too sick to deal with this. She suddenly felt like the energy had been drained from her body. So she decided to keep quiet until she figured things out for herself. Maybe she'd think more clearly in the morning. She finally curled up under the blankets and lie there for a while.

A few hours later, she heard Drake come into the bedroom. He sat on the edge of their bed. He leaned over and kissed her.

"I'm sorry you haven't felt better," he said. "I hope things change tomorrow." He kissed her again. "I love you."

The only way things would change tomorrow would be if she were to wake up and realize it was all just a dream. She pretended to be asleep because if she said anything, she knew she'd only cry.