A Little More Than Convenient

|Trent Remington|
Have you ever heard the expression, “A lot can happen in a day?” Did you believe it?
Before a hot, muggy, Tuesday in June, I didn’t believe in it. In fact, I rolled my eyes at it.
But now, I believed it.
The day started out normal enough. I woke up at seven-fifteen, took a shower, brushed my teeth, shaved, combed my hair. Then, I dressed in tan slacks, a black button-down, and black loafers. I forced down black coffee and a piece of toast, grabbed my briefcase and my coat, and then headed downstairs to the parking lot to my hateful Suburban.
I drove at a normal speed. When Carmen first left, I drove slowly. Somewhere in my mind, I thought that if I drove slow, she’d catch up with me. I smashed that though fairly soon. Then, I drove quickly, trying to escape everything. But that of course, didn’t work either. So now, it was pointless to drive a certain way.
I muttered a quick hello to the people in the main office. Mandy snapped her gum and nodded, turning the page of In Touch Weekly. I trudged to the elevator and pressed the up button. The elevator had two women and a man standing there. Nodding, I got in. One of the women was Mr. Bening’s secretary, Stacey. Stacey had shiny, wavy black hair that appeared to have some indigo in it, and piercing blue eyes. “Hi, Trent!” she said cheerfully.
“Hello, Stacey,” I murmured my reply.
“I haven’t seen Carmen here in a while. Is she on maternity leave?” she asked sweetly.
Leave it to her to ask the worst possible question at the worst possible time.
I shook my head somberly as the guy and the other girl stepped out onto the second floor, exchanging knowing glances at each other.
Stacey was new, only arriving days before Carmen left me. She was outspoken and loud, perfect for Mr. Bening. If he had his way, he’d probably end up sleeping with her, but I believed that Stacey had too much self respect for that. Besides, Evangeline was still pregnant with Mr. Bening’s fifth child.
“She and I got divorced,” I said softly, “and she quit.”
She gasped. “That is sooo sad! What about the baby?”
I didn’t reply as we paced forward, out of the elevator.
“I am sooo sorry!” she croaked.
I tried to smile. Really, I did. “It’s gonna be all right,” I replied.
She and I went into two different offices. I took off my coat and hung it up. Then, I sat my briefcase beside my desk. I had a lot to do today. There was a small bank, Hutchison’s, in the outskirts of Jonesboro that was doing horribly. Liberty Bank was buying it out, and I was basically in charge of everything. Actually, this should have been Mr. Bening’s job, but he was too busy wrapped up in his own problems.
Therefore, I was more or less Mr. Bening’s bitch until he retired.
I spent the entire morning filling out paperwork, talking to people on the phone, and researching with my iPad. It was very frustrating work because most of the people who worked for Hutchison’s was bitter about losing their job. But it was struggling horribly, and couldn’t afford to stay open.
I ate lunch alone, as usual. I drove to Taco Bell and got a chicken quesadilla and a Pepsi. I’ve been eating a lot more fast food lately.
But even more than that, I’ve been drinking.
At first, it was just a glass of wine every night. I usually drank a glass or wine three nights out of five, just to ease my stress. Then, it turned to a six pack of Budweiser or Bud Light. The beer turned to vodka, to rum, to gin, and finally, Jack Daniels.
Honestly, I’ve never really liked whiskey. My dad used to drink it a little when my uncle Joe visited us. It burnt the crap out of my throat and stank, but I found that it really numbed the pain that I was feeling.
But not enough to make me forget about Carmen.
After lunch, I settled back in my office to work again. I was already seriously exhausted.
Suddenly, my phone rang. “Hello?”
“Mr. Remington, there’s a lady here to see you.” It was Mandy on the intercom extension.
My heart stopped. I prayed, prayed, prayed that maybe it was Carmen.
“Okay,” I replied, “who is it?”
There was silence for a moment. “She says her name is Elizabeth Finch.”
“Who?” I asked.
“She says that you call her Lizzie,” Mandy replied.
A wave of confusion passed over me. Why the hell was Carmen’s sister here?
“Send her in, Mandy,” I replied.
I hung up the receiver.
Lizzie sashayed into my office and sat down. “Hello, Trent,” she said.
I narrowed my eyes at her. “Hi, Lizzie. What’s up?”
 She folded her hands in her lap. “I went and saw Carmen today.”
I raised my eyebrows as hope washed over me. Maybe Lizzie had pulled something out of her. “You did?”
She nodded and grabbed a mint out of the dish on my desk. Popping it into her mouth, she replied, “Sure did.”
“Okay...,” I trailed off, “where is she saying?”
Lizzie rolled her eyes. “With Christian.”
My jaw dropped and so did my stomach. “Wha-what? Why the hell is she staying with him?!”
She shrugged. “I have no idea. All I know is that she really misses you.”
I looked down at my hands. “What am I supposed to do about it?”
She shrugged again. “How should I know?”
“Lizzie, she left me, remember?”
She nodded. “Yeah, I know. But maybe she had a good reason. Come on, Trent, you lived with her for over three months, you have to know a little about her.”
I nodded. “I do know her.”
She stood up. “Now, I can’t tell you what to do. But I do know that neither of you can live like this. You’re both wearing yourselves away to nothing.”
I said nothing.
“Here,” she replied, reaching into her purse, “I swiped this from Christian’s bathroom.” She dropped a small booklet on my desk.
“Goodbye, Trent. And make sure you read that.”
Lizzie shut the door.
I looked down. The book read, “Letters to Baby.”
I picked it up and began to read.
Little by little, I went on a journey through Carmen’s innermost thoughts and feelings. At first, I felt as though I was snooping, but eventually, I got a lot more comfortable. Surprisingly, she was speaking about me quite often. About how great a guy I was, how much she enjoyed my company, how much she valued my friendship, how much she...loved me. She even referred to me as the baby’s daddy. She must have really had it in her head that I was the baby’s father. And what did she mean about me going to prison?
An hour passed and I barely noticed. And then, I reached the final letter.
Dear Baby,
I feel so, so terrible. I’ve lied at such a horrendous degree, that it’s sickening. I’ve lied to Trent, to myself, to my family, my friends. I’ve practically lost all my self respect, and I’ve lost all respect that everyone else had for me. Sweetheart, I love you, remember that. No matter whatever happens next, I love you. I wish I could tell you that I knew what was going to happen to us in the future, but I don’t. Anyway, I won’t say too much because I don’t want you or Christian to find this out. Or Trent. Baby, it still really hurts to mention his name. I miss him so very much.
Love, Mommy
None of this made any sense. What the hell did all of this mean? Why had Carmen left? Where did the baby and Christian fit into all of this?
I didn’t have time to think about it, because my cell phone rang. I couldn’t believe the name that flashed as I picked it up.
“Carmen, I-”
“Trent...,” her voice was weak, “there’s not much time...please...help me.”
“Where are you?” I asked briskly.
“River...Pine...Apartments...Floor two...room six.”
“I’ll be there in five minutes!” I replied, jumping up out of my chair.
Within a minute, I was in my Suburban and on the highway, going eighty.