The Juggling Act

by Carol Maloney Scott

  “No, thanks. I don’t feel like eating and I’m not much of a tea drinker.”

  Bianca looks at her cell phone. “It’s eleven-thirty, and I call that it’s time for hard ciders.”

  “That’s probably a better idea.” Sharon touches her short, puffy hairdo, and runs off. It’s not a beehive, but it’s a bit poufy, and a natural, strawberry blond. I’m assuming that must be Bianca’s real hair color.

  “So what are you going to do?” Bianca sets Phoebe down on the ground and she runs towards the kitchen. If she’s anything like my dogs, she’s hoping it’s snack time.

  I grab a tissue from the box on the end table and dab at my eye makeup, which is running into my eyes and making them burn a little. “I don’t know. Do you think I could spend the night here? Just tonight. If I stay away longer, I’ll go to my parents’ house. I’m just not ready to face them yet. The questions will involve a spotlight and a good cop/bad cop routine.”

  “Which one’s the bad cop?” Her smirk is teasing, but it tells me that Brandon talks badly about my mother to Bianca. And probably everyone else we know.

  Sharon emerges from the kitchen with two hard ciders on a tray, and sets them down on the coffee table. She has also made several sandwiches and put some chips in a bowl with salsa on the side.

  “Here we go. If you don’t feel like eating right now, that’s fine. I just thought we could all use a little sustenance.” She puts some napkins on the coffee table and wrings her hands. “I’m going to check on the little ones now. Is it okay if I give Aidan some lunch with Mick?”

  “Of course, thanks so much.”

  Sharon saunters off again.

  “Thanks Mom.” Bianca grabs a napkin and a sandwich, setting it on her lap. After a big swig of her drink, she says, “You can definitely stay here, but you’ll have to sleep in my mom’s office. That’s the only other place with a bed. If Aidan can sleep with you, that will work. Or we could set up Mick’s travel play yard. I’ll get Max to do that.” She wipes her mouth and says, “Never mind. Who the hell knows when he’s coming home? I can do it myself.”

  “He’s probably with Brandon, sitting in a bar.”

  “No, actually Max and Rob had an emergency refrigerator job this morning, so Max is actually working. I shouldn’t be such a bitch, but his overall immaturity and laziness in the house gets to me. Especially since we’re living with my mother.”

  She watches me sip my drink and switches back to my problems. “I can’t believe Brandon stormed out like that, but I still think there’s an explanation. I think it’s possible he’s feeling a lot of pressure. Look at how soon he proposed, and made sure you had a baby.”

  “Did he say all of that?” I knew he confided in her. Now to try to extract the information from Bianca, without making her feel like she’s stuck in the middle of two warring nations.

  Bianca lays her sandwich back on the tray and folds her legs under her body, sinking back into the cozy, plaid sofa.

  “Brandon liked you from the moment he met you. He talked about you all the time—the new neighbor with the cute dog, and even cuter everything else. And once you guys got together, he fought for you. You see that, don’t you? That guy at your office, what’s his name?”

  “Justin.” I don’t see how this trip down memory lane is going to help me now, but I’m curious as to what she knows.

  “Right. Brandon never calls him by name, at least not that name.”

  I raise my eyebrows and sigh. Even though Brandon has called Justin nasty names when we’ve argued, I didn’t realize he was sharing his displeasure with others. I thought only women told their friends everything.

  My mind wanders back to that conversation with Justin. My husband did not propose and move our lives forward because he was threatened by another man. Yet this is the second time I’m hearing it explained that way.

  “Well, he did keep trying to divert your attention from your new boyfriend. Remember, I was around at that time, too. I know you say it wasn’t blatant, but I think part of you wants to protect Brandon, and pretend it didn’t happen, so you can continue to be friendly with Justin at work.”

  I squirm as I see where she’s going with this.

  “So you think Brandon is hiding stuff from me, not because he’s doing anything wrong, but because he doesn’t want me to hate the woman, or women, who are pursuing him?”

  “Something like that. I mean, I don’t know who that might be. I know you had some issues with the nanny. All I’m saying is that you two suck at communicating. Max and I have our troubles, but we don’t sugar coat anything. Now of course, there have been a few times the cops have been called.”

  Exactly. Max and Bianca are a little rougher around the edges than me and Brandon. Sharon must love having them live here. I know she adores Mick, but I’m sure she’d like to have some peace.

  The neighbors also must love them. This is not a domestic disturbance kind of neighborhood. The elite Richmonders could accidentally appear in the background of an episode of COPS while walking their dogs, watching tattooed people beat each other up on the front lawn.

  I smile at my idea for a new sitcom. It could be a little like the Beverly Hillbillies, with a family moving into an area that’s out of their element. Max and Rob must especially stick out here. However, Sharon is now a successful businesswoman, after years of waitressing and supporting Bianca on her own.

  “I am not interested in fighting with my husband on the lawn.” I finish the last of my hard cider, and if Aidan wasn’t here, I would probably drink the rest of the alcohol Sharon has in the house. No, on second thought, I am not reverting back to my old ways of coping with stress. Bianca is right. I need to face my problems.

  “No, maybe not, but I’ll tell you one thing. If that skinny bitch across the street was rude to me and flirting with my husband, I would meet her in the cul-de-sac, and it wouldn’t be to exchange recipes.”

  Bianca’s not a big woman, but she’s compact and muscular. I bet she’s beaten up some unsuspecting bitches.

  “Hmm, maybe I should send you over…no, never mind. Diamond is my tenant. And I don’t even know if she’s the one. There could be another woman I know nothing about. Brandon is home all day with a baby who can’t talk, and up until recently, a woman who can’t speak more than a few dozen words of English. Now, of course, Jane is watching, but she can’t keep tabs on him. It’s not her job. If people want to cheat, they find a way.”

  “I’m just saying—if he’s too chicken to get in the middle of a cat fight, you might need to take control of the situation. Just don’t shrink and cry, or act like a jealous wimp. Confront and attack, that’s my motto.” She dips a chip in the salsa and gulps the rest of her hard cider. “One thing is for sure—you don’t need a nanny. That problem was solved for you. Your kids can go to daycare. Mick loves it.”

  Kids? We have one kid. “What do you mean, kids?”

  “It’s just a figure of speech, but Brandon did tell me about the baby you were going to adopt. I know you both decided to pass and wait, but do you honestly think if he was screwing the nanny, the neighbor or whoever, that he would be trying to add to your family? He’s a guy who has let you tie a rock around his balls voluntarily. He married you. You adopted a baby immediately. He put all that pressure on himself. For you.”

  Bianca looks away for a moment. I didn’t think she wanted to get married, but her speech seems to have affected her own mood.

  And what pressure? He wanted all of this. I was going to keep dating middle-aged men who didn’t want kids. He was the one who convinced me all of my dreams could come true. I thought we had the same ones.

  “Is my daughter teaching you to beat people up?” Sharon pops back in the living room and eyes the tray. “Do you girls need anything else?”

  “Sharon, I think my husband is cheating on me. What should I do?” I stare at her and she looks like she wants the floor to open up and swallow her, or at least the phone to ring or a baby to cry. Some
thing to escape.

  Bianca fills her mother in on the summarized version of the story—she says I’m too wordy, and Sharon purses her lips and shakes her head. “I’m sorry, Claire. That does sound bad. But you need to be logical. Did you even hear him out?”

  “That’s the thing. I did confront and attack, well maybe not attack, but I definitely confronted…and he had no reasonable explanation.”

  Sharon sits down on the couch next to Bianca, and crosses her legs. “Claire, I know you’re hurting but just don’t do anything rash. I’ve been single for over twenty years, and it’s not easy out there. You know what it’s like from your own divorced dating years. You weren’t in the trenches for very long, but some of those stories you told us at the bridal shower were hilarious, especially the ones you didn’t want your mother to hear. But it’s only funny after the fact. I don’t think you want to return to that life, now as a single mother.”

  I know she’s referring to the guy I brought home after a post miniature golf drinking binge. I brought Dixie outside and came back in to find him chanting in my family room, wearing nothing but a leather thong.

  “I bet you have some stories, too.” I laugh as I think of other crazy dates, but then frown. Going back to that life would suck, and now I’d be a single mother. Sharon’s right—that adds a whole new layer of difficulty to dating. Maybe that’s why Diamond behaves like she does. Visions of me wearing belly revealing shirts, and trying to sex up the neighbor men, flash into my mind.

  “Mom has so many stories.” Bianca stands up and stretches. “I’m going to supervise the little ones now, and then I have to get ready for our catering job. The reception starts at four, but we have to there by three, right?”

  Sharon nods her assent to the plan, and Bianca is off. I thank her for listening, and turn back to Sharon.

  “I have a million stories and I have some time before I have to get ready. I just have to change. The food is all done.” She leans forward and says more quietly, “Bianca does care about you and Brandon. She just has her own problems with Max, and I think she’s discouraged with the whole relationship thing.”

  “Yeah, I was getting ready for her to tell me to set his stuff on fire.”

  Sharon nods. “Or set him on fire.” We laugh as she launches into enough ridiculous dating stories to fill a whole series of books.

  CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

  Brandon

  “She’s gone.”

  “Man. That sucks. I’m really sorry. You shouldn’t have run off, but I know when your wife is interrogating you, the instinct to flee is high.”

  I hear a commotion in the background as Jon is trying sympathize with my plight, and he addresses someone else. “Sorry, Honey, I’m just talking to Brandon. Claire ran off after she found women’s underwear in their bed.”

  “What? Brandon, it’s Cassie. What the hell happened?” Apparently she grabbed the phone and decided that Jon is not the best advice giver in these situations. I can’t argue with her. I need as many women on my side as I can rally. I should have gone to see Bianca. I would ask Jane if she knows where Claire went, but she’s likely to throw rocks at me.

  “Put it on speaker!” Now they’re apparently wrestling over the phone. Knowing them, if their two-year-old is napping, this tension will prompt them to have sex on the kitchen floor now, and I’ll never get any help. These are my marriage role models.

  “Okay, Brandon, are you still there? I put it on speaker for Mr. I Don’t Want To Be Left Out of the Gossip.”

  “He called me, Dear.”

  “Shut it or I am not doing…that thing you like later with my—”

  “Cassie, Claire is gone!” I visualize Jon’s eyes popping out of his head through the phone.

  Interrupting their argument, I say, “Guys, she didn’t leave, as in ‘packed up all of her stuff’ gone. She’s just not here. She took Aidan and went somewhere. I need to find her.”

  “Did you call her mother? There’s that neighbor across the street, right?”

  “No, Claire hates her.” Jon thinks she means Diamond.

  “No, not the skinny one. The nice mom lady.”

  “I don’t want to go to anyone who is clearly in Claire’s camp. Not yet. I am hoping I can get this resolved before I have to go there. She could have gone to see Rebecca or Gina from the office, there’s her friend Rachel with the million kids, Audra the professor. Claire knows a lot of people.”

  “There’s Bianca. Zoe.” At least Cassie is trying to think of possible allies.

  “No, she wouldn’t go to anyone who might take my side.”

  “Brandon, Sweetie, I hate to break this to you, but NO WOMAN ON EARTH, including your own mother, would be on your side right now. Your wife found another woman’s panties in YOUR BED!”

  “Are you sure they’re not yours, Cassie?”

  Jon’s laugh starts up immediately and he yells, “Hey, don’t punch me.”

  “Obviously, Claire made an assessment that my fat, pregnant ass was not the former inhabitant of the sexy undies. And if you really want to know, I don’t wear underwear when I’m pregnant. It’s really irritating to my—”

  “No one wants to hear about your pregnancy problems! Claire is gone!” Jon is once again exasperated with his wife.

  I hang my head and lay the phone on the table momentarily. I thought Jon was my most stable and objective friend, being a married father, but now I see that everyone is nuts. Of course, I did catch them in my bed during band practice.

  “Cassie, did you make the bed like you promised? After I walked in on you guys?”

  “Of course. I got different sheets out of the linen closet. You didn’t notice the ones I found are a totally different pattern. I swear, you men don’t notice anything unless it has boobs or barbecue sauce on it. One time, I put sheets on our bed with little spacemen on them and Jon never said a word.”

  “I can’t keep up with all this feminine trickery.” There’s an area where Jon and I are in full agreement.

  I hear Cassie sigh and say, “Brandon, the most important thing for you to do right now is remain calm and try to figure out what actually happened. If you are truly innocent, then you have a mystery to solve. Until you do that, and can present Claire with the facts, she isn’t going to talk to you. Or come home.”

  “Shit, I know. Okay, thanks for listening, guys. Can you do me a favor, though? Can you please text Claire and just ask her if she’s okay? If Aidan’s okay? I’m sure they are, but I just want some peace of mind and I’ve texted and called her fifty times, and she won’t answer.”

  They agree to attempt to contact Claire, and let me know if she responds.

  I pace the floors and the dogs follow me. “I don’t know where Mommy is, but I sure fucked up good this time. The only problem is—I don’t know what I did or how to fix it.”

  Claire

  “Stop, I can’t take it anymore.” I’m holding my back and laughing, screeching so much my back aches. This must be what labor feels like. Labor. Lamaze. My laughter is interrupted by a vision of pouty lips and big, bug eyes and…

  “Mom, what the hell are you telling her?” Bianca looks at me and smirks. “At least you’re laughing instead of crying.” She addresses Sharon. “You have to get ready. The guys are here to load the food in the van. And the babies are napping. Claire, I have a babysitter coming for Mick because his father is coming home from his job, but heading out again for the band gig tonight.”

  “Oh, you can cancel her if you want. If it’s okay if I stay. I can watch Mick.” I lean back in the chair and grab a couple of muffin crumbs off my lap.

  I did succumb to Sharon’s treats while she regaled me with her tales of dating woe. All I can say is that the ‘old man with the hat’ and ‘leather thong chanting guy’ are looking good compared to ‘drunk cowboy with a gun’ and ‘doctor who lived with his mother.’

  “No, I’m going to have her come over. That way you can rest a little. Maybe watch a movie or something. Cal
l your mother.” She reacts to my startled expression. “Okay, never mind. Maybe your sister?”

  That would be better. I wish Jackie was here, but my first instinct was to run to someone who knows both of us instead of someone who I know will be on my side no matter what. I guess I’m not completely sure he’s guilty if I’m hoping someone can make me see his innocence.

  “Yeah, I might call her. Or just hang out and stare at the ceiling. Cuddle with little Phoebe here.” The scruffy white dog hops onto the couch and tries to lick my face. My own dogs are trained not to do that, but this little thing is just trying to comfort the crazy, crying/laughing lady.

  Bianca and Sharon run off to get ready for their event, and I assure them I’ll be fine. Somehow I forgot that Chain has a show tonight, even though just a few hours ago I was looking forward to going.

  That will keep Brandon occupied. And it’s good that none of the band members have any idea where I am. Oh shit, Max is coming back here before he goes to O’Malley’s. But it doesn’t matter, Brandon won’t have time to hunt me down, even if he knows where I am, and he’s not brave enough to show up here at two in the morning, when the show is over. At least I hope not.

  I glance at my phone and see that Brandon has called and texted numerous times. I scroll through the messages, but none of them say what I want to hear—‘I can explain.’ It seems clear that he can’t, and then how could he possibly be innocent?

  I put my feet up on the couch, snuggling into the nest of throw pillows. Phoebe curls up on my lap and stares at me with her sweet brown eyes. “You’re lucky you don’t have a husband. As much as I wanted another one, they are really nothing but trouble.”

  Brandon

  “Look, this is a bad time.” I open the front door and instantly regret it.

  “What’s wrong? I was just coming over to tell you I can make it to your show tonight. My asshole ex has Ruby so I am free and clear to party!” The last thing I need right now is for Jane, or anyone, to see Diamond coming over wearing skin tight jeans and a tube top the size of a large Ace bandage. And of course, it’s only about forty degrees outside.