Happiness in Numbers

by Nicole Field

  Rebecca didn't really, but nodded anyway. She thought again of the scars she'd seen on Michaela's arm.

  "Sometimes when things are important enough, you feel the fear but do it anyway. Let the fear push you off the cliff instead of stop you."

  "Mama fell down once," Tyler said. "But not off a cliff, like in Lion King. Right, Mama?"

  "No, Tyler, not like that."

  "And Auntie Janey didn't push you?"

  "No, Ty Guy, she didn't."

  Rebecca might have thought she imagined the sudden increase in tension, but the speed with which the subject changed was very real.

  As dinner wound down, Andy happily described a child at school who was building his science project out of Cap'n Crunch cereal. Rebecca, who maybe had to work on dropping the tutor role while she was off the clock, said something about false advertising and explained that, given his clothing, the good captain was actually an admiral.

  "Oh," Andy said, taking that in. "Cool. Weird."

  A glass thunked on the table too loudly.

  "Really?" said Elizabeth. "I've been telling you that for ages, Andy."

  "Yeah?" he said, like this was obvious.

  "You wouldn't believe me."

  "So?"

  "So, what's the difference between me and Miss Becca?"

  "Miss Becca's like a teacher, but better. She gets paid to know stuff, so she must know stuff. Plus, she has cards and you don't." Andy stuffed a handful of fries into his mouth as if to punctuate the point he'd made.

  Elizabeth stared. "What the hell do cards have to do with it?"

  "Better question," said Michaela. "I get judged for being judgy because I can't teach him math. You're obsessing because he wouldn't listen to you about a cereal mascot. Who's got the bigger problem here?"

  That question was not properly answered. Instead, Rebecca got distracted by finding out that Elizabeth's father had been an engineer for the Army. They had this in common, though Rebecca's dad was an officer while Elizabeth's was an enlisted man. What followed was a spirited discussion about the pros and cons of being an Army brat. They'd both stayed at some of the same bases, it turned out, but never at the same time. They talked about the boys' club nature of it all, the rigidness.

  "Maybe that's why I think you're so great," Rebecca told Michaela, pointing a fry at her in her excitement before popping it into her mouth. "I could never, the structure of it, the chain of command thing I saw it my whole life and could never break away from it."

  "No?" Michaela sipped from a newly opened beer. "You're here though, with us, not on a base somewhere."

  "Only because of that whole thing, women have to fight so much harder. It's built for guys and so is your field, and you just, did it anyway. I'd see women trying to do the same kinds of things on base and just, I always knew I couldn't handle it."

  Michaela shrugged. "I doubt that. You didn't want that life. If you'd wanted it, you would've kicked ass at it."

  "And looked great in a uniform," said Grant.

  Rebecca ducked her head and snuck a look at Elizabeth, but she was sat back in her chair with a calm smile, watching the interaction with no expression of it bothering her.

  "If you want something bad enough," Michaela said, "you'll go for it eventually. You didn't want to build houses or join the ranks and shave your head—"

  "That was a movie, babe. They don't make every woman do that."

  Michaela ignored Kate. "The point is, you're brave and amazing for chasing what you want, no matter what that is. Like Kate. She is brave and amazing for studying dead Greeks."

  "Not really," said Kate. "I have a rich wife who's about to become richer, if the dead Greeks don't work out."

  "Well you didn't have a rich wife when you started, so," Michaela drank her beer again. "You're great. Rebecca is also great, and I had a really eloquent way of saying that before you interrupted."

  "Sorry," Kate said, not sounding it.

  There was a short silence, before Tyler asked if he could shave Ellie's head.

  After dinner, Rebecca convinced Elizabeth to let her help clean up. She'd lost track of who'd gone where in the house, but the two of them were alone as Elizabeth rinsed plates and Rebecca loaded them into the dishwasher.

  "Thank you for having me tonight. It was wonderful."

  "It was alright. That medium well done you ordered looked a little past medium well. Michaela really is better on the grill."

  Elizabeth could tease and banter as much as any of them, Rebecca had seen it. She'd also seen Elizabeth go quiet, observant, like when they first met, and during parts of dinner tonight. She'd been silent during most of the cleanup, but Rebecca wasn't disturbed by it. It was comfortable. And, as she had when she realized they shared a background, Rebecca found herself wanting to say things to Elizabeth. To fill the silence not because she had to, but because she wanted to. To talk again about how frustrating it was, making and then losing friends, always moving. How Rebecca taken a job now that meant moving between kids, families and maybe it was a thing; maybe she was afraid still to make lasting connections.

  But this was different. Rebecca wanted to say that they were different and, whatever the hell was going on between whoever it was going on with, she wanted to be around them more.

  "Thanks for having me," she said again instead. Couldn't even come up with something new.

  Elizabeth only smiled, passed another plate over. "You're welcome anytime."

  It was a line, something everyone said to everyone they had dinner with. It was what you said, that's all. Except Rebecca thought perhaps it wasn't just that, not this time.

  She smiled as she placed Ellie's sippy cup in the rack.

  *~*~*

  Rebecca went to Kalylynn's more and more often. When Kate wasn't there, Rebecca was disappointed, but sometimes Kate would be nice enough to tell her when she was working.

  At the house, Andy did his schoolwork, but he also gave her pictures he'd drawn during her absence. Tyler always wanted new flashcards from her, or to show her how well he'd learned the older ones. Elizabeth and Michaela were busy with their project, but it was nice when she did see them. Grant always had a smile for her, and an endless collection of corny jokes.

  On one Saturday afternoon, Rebecca showed up fifteen minutes late. Elizabeth answered the door and waved off her apologies. She looked different though, stress lines creasing her forehead. Rebecca heard raised voices somewhere inside.

  "One of those days for everyone," Elizabeth said.

  Grant and Kate were in the kitchen, the former leaning against the kitchen table. There were papers and folders scattered across it. Kate was standing further apart from him than usual, arms crossed.

  "You know," she was saying, "this thing that you do was old then and it's stale as hell now."

  "Well, I didn't ask your opinion on this 'thing,' then or now, so maybe—"

  "Maybe that's the problem? Yeah, that's just what I was going to say."

  Elizabeth cleared her throat loudly. "Children," she said, an edge to her voice. "We have company."

  Kate turned rather gracefully, blushed. Grant's movement was stiffer as he turned toward them. To Rebecca, he looked older than usual, his face worn with lines she'd never seen before.

  "You're late," he said tersely, one hand still braced on the table, the other running through his hair.

  "I'm, sorry." Rebecca fought the urge to physically recoil from the violent change in him. "I texted you. The roads were—"

  "Have you seen this?" Grant picked up a page from the table. All Rebecca had time to see was Andy's writing and a lot of red marks. "I thought you taught him all this?" he said, setting the page down. "I thought we had all this?"

  "I—" Rebecca began, not sure if he was pissed at her or pleading with her.

  "Stop," said Elizabeth to her. "Grant's having a bad day, you don't need to explain yourself to him."

  "He failed a test."

  "He gets scared with tests, you know that. It'
s one test. In second grade. He's hardly a dropout."

  "I understand that, honey. But his regular teacher—"

  "Grant," Kate said, sighing.

  "—is not going to understand that. She's already emailed me about a conference, which I will be the only one going to because everyone else is swamped. And she will once again get on me about when we're going to start dumping pills down his throat."

  "So I'll be the one to tell her we're not," said Elizabeth. "I'll take the meeting this time."

  Grant made a noise at the back of his throat and mumbled something Rebecca couldn't catch. "I don't need you to take the meeting. I'm perfectly capable of taking the meeting. A little backup would be nice, that's all I'm saying."

  "Fine, so we'll both go and I'll back you up at the meeting. We'll set it up later. Right now, though, you should take a break."

  "And now you're just patronizing me."

  "For God's sake," said Kate. "Michaela's overworked, Liz is overworked, everyone's overworked, so you are too. No one's patronizing you. Just because you are once again—"

  "Kate," he said, voice hardening. "Stop." He shook his head, sucked in a deep breath as he looked around, both hands braced on the table now. "Where is Andy, anyway? How are we supposed to fix anything when he's not even down here?"

  "I wonder why, Grant," Kate said, all sarcasm.

  "You know, Kate, you should just go home."

  "I should. With the kids. Who had to go next door so they wouldn't hear this bullshit."

  "Oh, come on," he said, voice rising.

  "Enough." Elizabeth's voice cut through the room.

  Rebecca realized she'd gone too long without breathing.

  "Kate is going to watch the kids, and you're going to take your meds and take a nap."

  "Andy's got—"

  "You think our kid who already has trouble concentrating is going to get anything done with you like this?"

  "Would I have to be like this if she'd do what we hired her to do?" Grant indicated Rebecca.

  It should've stung. It should've hurt. It did. But, more than that, it made Rebecca feel cold and small and stupid.

  "Don't you talk to her like that." Kate advanced on him. "You don't get to throw a fit and—"

  "Don't tell me how to—"

  But Kate did tell him. Told him something, anyway, in a rapid-fire language that was not English. Rebecca stared. Greek, she assumed, because Kate studied it, taught her a few words. Tried to, because Rebecca hadn't actually retained any of it, only thought that the words sounded good on Kate's lips. Hot.

  Now they were just fast and pissed off.

  "Nice, Kate." Grant threw up his hands. "Nobody can argue with you if they don't know the language, right? That's a real mature way to make your point. And I'm the one being put down for a nap."

  "Well, you're not listening to anyone speaking English, are you? Desperate times."

  "The hell with this!" Grant said, throwing up his hands, unsteady as he pushed off from the table. "I'm done."

  He stalked out of the kitchen, past Rebecca. His walk was off, Rebecca noticed as he went up the stairs, though she couldn't tell how. Tears blocked her vision, and Elizabeth was speaking again, taking Rebecca's attention.

  "Kate, you know no matter what you say today it's going to be taken wrong."

  "What, so I just shouldn't speak?"

  "I didn't say that. I'm saying maybe today, just today, we should give a little leeway and just do our own things."

  "He doesn't want to be coddled, so I'm not coddling him."

  "And I'm not asking you to. I'm saying just for today, leave him be. We'll all talk when things settle."

  There was more back and forth, with Kate obviously annoyed by Liz's calm, firm tone as she spoke. Rebecca didn't want to hear it either. In a very mature, professional moment, she fled, barely bothering to excuse herself first.

  Tears fell as she walked fast down the driveway, head down. It wasn't the worst thing she'd ever heard from a client. Grant's words weren't the cruelest spoken to her, not by half.

  Why then was she like this, crying and running away like Andy when his numbers wouldn't line up?

  "Rebecca!"

  Elizabeth. Footsteps. Rebecca was almost to her car, ducked her head lower.

  "Becca. Rebecca! Please."

  She didn't stop, but slowed when she shouldn't have. The steps came closer. Elizabeth said please again, and Rebecca did stop. She faced Elizabeth knowing her eyes were wet, her lip quivering. She powered through, babbling something about rescheduling.

  "Don't. Becca, please. It's not about the fucking math."

  Rebecca stood very still, Elizabeth blurred in her vision.

  "That's, what you saw in there is not who we are. It's not."

  "You don't need to explain anything to—"

  "I do. We do," Elizabeth said, her voice sounding calm and firm.

  "No. You don't."

  "What if I want to? What about that?"

  Rebecca said nothing.

  "Becca, please. That isn't who we are."

  "I know." And she did. That was part of the reason why it had taken her so off guard today. Rebecca had never seen anyone in this house act like that before.

  Her words got her a small, hopeful smile, a light touch to the arm. "But you should know more. Please."

  Rebecca stared at Elizabeth's hand on her, at the snake guarding Elizabeth's wrist.

  Dammit. But she couldn't go back into the house. Not right now, with the words Grant had said so freshly echoing in her ears. "Okay. You can tell me more. But later. After everyone's had time to calm down." She didn't think she had to say she needed time to calm down too. She would be back, but not today.

  Elizabeth accepted it, and let go of her arm.

  *~*~*

  Elizabeth called her. Called, not texted. She asked to meet for coffee, but not at Kate's shop, which was the only one Rebecca knew in their area. Rebecca set out early, determined not to be late again. She arrived with ten minutes to spare but Elizabeth was there already. She held up a hand, as if Rebecca might not recognize her in the small café.

  They made brief small talk. The stilted variety. It was the first time Rebecca experienced a bad silence with Elizabeth, the kind that needed filling but wouldn't fill easily. Rebecca saw Elizabeth already had a drink.

  "The coffee here as good as Kate's?" she asked.

  "God no. But this place has better fraps. Don't tell Kate I said that. I don't need to be in the doghouse with her, too."

  A waitress came by and asked what Rebecca wanted to drink. She had no idea, hadn't even glanced at the menu. Elizabeth ordered her something Rebecca didn't pay attention to.

  Elizabeth let out a breath and Rebecca could see her working up to telling her something important. "Grant was hospitalized, a long time ago. Before Andy was born or thought of. He got better, but he has rough days. Pain days. Some of those are rougher than others, and sometimes it shows. Usually Michaela steps in on those days; she's got experience with pain and prickishness. But she's been working like mad and she was having a rough day herself, so," she gestured vaguely with the tattoo hand. "Meet Grant Harrison when he's not being a lovable house dad."

  The waitress came back with her drink, giving Rebecca time to decide what she wanted to say. Not time enough, though.

  Elizabeth continued when Rebecca stayed quiet. "While he was in the hospital, so was Michaela. She'd hurt herself at work around the same time and was doing physical therapy. They hit it off. She understood Grant in a way that I didn't, not then. We were, well, it was a hard time for our marriage."

  Finally, Rebecca found a way to voice what she'd been wondering for a while now. "Are you saying they started—?"

  "No. Nothing you're thinking happened until later, with my knowledge, consent. And participation, sometimes, since I can see you wondering."

  She had been wondering. And now she was thinking about it and had to work hard to refocus on what Elizabeth was sayin
g.

  "They got each other. They helped each other. And if I wanted to hate her for that at first…I tried, but she's Michaela." She said this as if it explained everything. Maybe it did. "She helped our marriage. Helped us see the other's point of view when we were both sick of each other. She saved us good money on a counselor. And Grant loved her. Loves her."

  "And you?" Rebecca wrapped both hands around her drink to keep them from fidgeting or shredding a napkin.

  "I almost lost Grant. He survived, I got to keep him, but I wasn't going to keep him if he didn't love me anymore. But that wasn't the case. He swore to me it wasn't and never had been, and he's a terrible liar. And Michaela, I liked her. And then I loved her too."

  Rebecca stayed quiet. Now that she was finally getting answers to the questions that had perplexed her, she didn't want to say anything that might interrupt the flow of the story.

  Elizabeth smiled and went on. "It can be complicated, it used to be more so, but we figured it out. I realized I needed her too, when she left the hospital and Grant didn't. I missed her. And she did name her child after me."

  Rebecca felt her jaw come open. "Ellie's—"

  "My child too, just like Andy. And Tyler. Just like Andy belongs to Grant and I and his mama and Kate's. He was young when he met her. He tried for Katie."

  "And Tyler?" She'd never asked who'd carried him. It was an asshole question, she thought, and she'd honestly never cared. Now she couldn't help herself.

  "He's Michaela's boy. And Andy's mine."

  Rebecca considered that, considered Michaela running her own business, that particular business and carrying two children. She expressed her astonishment.

  "She was careful," said Elizabeth. "She's always careful now. She had a good crew for when she couldn't do the physical stuff anymore, she had me for the rest. And Grant, when she had to go back to work. She wanted the career and the kids, so she made it happen."

  "And Kate?"

  "What about her?"

  So many answers to that, so many questions. "She didn't want children?"

  "She didn't want to carry them," Elizabeth corrected. "Or conceive them the way Michaela and I did."