Page 63 of Call Off the Dark

As the grayness of winter morphed into the soggy days of spring, Tyler encouraged Helen to talk more about how she was feeling, but since she didn’t really understand exactly what she was feeling, sometimes there wasn’t much to say. Even worse, there were things she couldn’t say because it would hurt Tyler, things she didn’t even want to admit to herself. Like how she couldn’t stand the sound of him clipping his toenails. And how when she was in bed with him, she imagined she was any other woman with any other man. She didn’t even want him to kiss her when they parted ways in the elevator. And she was bored out of her mind sitting across from him at the dinner table.

Sometimes when she looked at his face, all she felt was numb.

And the worst part was that she started to wonder if she’d always felt this way about him.

Maddie from Boom Now called Helen one morning in March and said, “Stan went into cardiac arrest at the staff meeting yesterday.”

Cardiac arrest. That sounded especially dire. “Is he okay?”

“He was out. No pulse, and one of our interns did CPR. He didn’t die. He’s still in the hospital, though.”

“Oh, thank God.” Helen wanted to ask if Stan was brain-dead, but she couldn’t think of a way to phrase the question that didn’t sound hopeful.

“He’ll probably make a full recovery,” Maddie said. “Eventually.”

“Wow.”

Maddie then informed Helen that Boom Now would like to finalize the can’s wraparound design ASAP with design #4—which Helen’s team had completed five months earlier, but never mind; Helen obviously didn’t mention that, nor did she mention that currently the team was on design #37.

Helen wrote #4 on a yellow Post-it and said, “Please give Stan our best, and tell him we hope he recovers quickly.” She searched for the appropriate words of comfort. “And that we look forward to talking to him again soon . . .” She trailed off because the last part wasn’t true.

Maddie laughed. “Sure, Helen. I’ll tell him the next time I’m sitting vigil at his bedside,” and Helen knew then that she wasn’t the only one Stan had been abusing.

When Helen hung up, she texted Tyler:

OMG. Can you meet me on the rooftop in ten minutes?

Tyler responded right away:

Yeah. Is it bad?

She felt a pang in her chest, realizing that of course her husband would assume that anything and everything she had to tell him these days was bad news. She texted back:

No! Not bad!

On the rooftop, Helen’s face crumpled when she saw Tyler walking toward her. He had two to-go coffee cups.

When he handed one to her, he said, “It’s not too hot. I checked it.”

She took a grateful drink—vanilla latte—and then said, “Stan almost died.” Tears started to spill out of her eyes.

“Oh, Helen.” Tyler put his arms around her, and she tried not to get her mascara on the collar of his gray button-up shirt. He rubbed her back, then after a minute said, “But you don’t like Stan.”

“I know. And he’s not on the account anymore. Maddie’s in charge now.”

“Oh.” Tyler stifled a laugh. “So these are happy tears?”

“Sssh. You can’t say that out loud.”

“This is all off the record.”

“I’m a terrible person.”

He squeezed her. “Our little secret.”

A wave of solace washed over Helen. She could say anything to her husband, and he’d always be on her side.

She lifted her head to look at him. “He went into cardiac arrest at their staff meeting. I bet he was shouting at someone.”