The Juggling Act

by Carol Maloney Scott

  Before I can stop her, she’s in the house, and I slam the door harshly.

  “Where’s Claire?” She bats her false eyelashes and twists her long blond hair around her finger.

  “I don’t know. She left.” I stare into her heavily made-up eyes. She’s pretty, but in a harsh way. Like a rose with thorns. A colder, more severe version of Claire. Sharper angles. Exaggerated features. Like a caricature of a pretty woman.

  Diamond gasps and covers her mouth. Her dark red lips form an ‘O’ as she drops her hand to her side. “She left you? For good?” She tosses her beaded black evening purse on the couch and reaches out to touch my arm.

  Just as I begin to formulate my reply, Dixie and Duncan come flying out of the family room. I closed the pocket door to keep them contained, because they drive me freaking crazy, but apparently one of these mighty wieners pried the door open.

  Barking their fool heads off, they make a beeline for Diamond’s stiletto booted ankles.

  “Jesus, she should have taken her mutts with her.” She bites her lip as Dixie growls her low warning, and the hair stands up on the back of her neck, like a lion’s mane.

  Even sweet Duncan is joining in the mayhem. He jumps onto the couch and grabs Diamond’s purse in his strong, little jaw and starts shaking it wildly, like an animal’s neck he’s trying to break.

  “Okay, stop!” I reach down to pick up the wiener queen and give her a stern warning. She calms down a bit, but still emits the low gurgling threat.

  “That other asshole ran off with my purse.”

  Holding Dixie with one arm, I begin to chase after Duncan and then decide—fuck it. “You know what, Diamond? I don’t care if he eats it and shits black sequins for a week. Why are you here? And obviously you knew Claire wasn’t here. So why don’t you tell me what’s going on. You wouldn’t happen to know how a pair of lacy purple underwear ended up in my bed, would you?”

  She sighs and says, “Brandon, you know your friends were having sex in your bed, and you’re accusing me? I was here taking care of a baby, for God’s sake.”

  “Claire said there’s no way the underwear belong to Cassie. Did you see the size of Cassie? And I talked to her and Jon today, and she also denies it.”

  “When I was pregnant I still wore my normal panties, they just sat under my belly. But you wouldn’t know that because your wife can’t give you your own children.”

  “Oh my God, you are a fucking lunatic. I didn’t want to bring any more children into this overcrowded world anyway, and I certainly wouldn’t want to produce one with a trashy—”

  The doorbell interrupts my tirade. I clench my fists and my jaw, then take a deep breath. Walking past my uninvited guest, I open the door to Rob and Zoe.

  “Is Claire really gone, Brandon?” Zoe rushes in with concern in her glitter adorned eyes. They look like Diamond’s only a normal size. And sincere.

  As they enter the house, Zoe spots Diamond and looks her up and down, the way women do when they are sizing each other up.

  “What is she doing here? Wait, is this why Claire—?”

  “No! Everybody just stop! Diamond, go home.”

  The usual pout gets bigger, but she seems to have locked her gaze onto Rob.

  “You can’t keep me from going to the show. It’s a public place and I look hot!” She turns her attention to Rob. “Hmm, I’ve seen you here a few times, but I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.”

  I give Rob a looks that says, ‘please take one for the team.’ His standards are a lot lower than mine and he is attached to nothing but beer and his video games.

  Rob takes in Diamond’s sex-drenched persona and says, “Rob. I’m here to load the equipment for the show. You wanna come along for the ride?”

  Diamond giggles and follows Rob into the basement, looking back to see if I’m watching. As if I would be jealous. My wife is missing, with my CHILD. Like I give a shit if she rides Rob all night like—

  “Are you okay?” Zoe touches both of my arms and shakes me. “You look like you’re losing it. Do you want me to make some calls? Try to find Claire? Maybe you should just cut the songs I’m in from the set list tonight, and I can try to track her down.”

  “No, I don’t want you to do that, and besides you don’t know any of her other friends or family.”

  I pace the floor while Zoe stands in the doorway with her arms folded, rocking back and forth in her black army boots.

  Claire

  “So you’re hiding out here?”

  Max’s muscular frame stands in the doorway of the living room, and his mass fills the space like an elephant in a Smartcar. His gruff clothing and mannerisms are out of place in this pristinely decorated home.

  “Bianca told me.” He puts up his hand and shakes his head. “You two are more hard-headed than me and Bianca.”

  I haven’t said a word yet, but he seems to be content with talking to himself, as he walks to the kitchen and opens the refrigerator.

  “I have to get cleaned up and ready for the show, but can you just tell me one thing?”

  I sigh and stretch on the couch, dislodging Phoebe, who goes running to Max for some attention. “What?”

  “Do you love him?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Then you need to fix this, Claire. I know he looks guilty. Bianca told me the whole story. But you didn’t even give him a chance. I may not know much about marriage, and I know you probably think I’m a stupid, uneducated—”

  “That’s not true.”

  “I may not have married Bianca, YET. But I can tell you one thing. I wouldn’t run off on her during a fight, and if she did, I would chase her down. We would battle it out until we had a resolution. You two just run and hide. It makes me sick.” He pops open his beer and takes a big swig.

  “And what exactly makes you an expert?”

  “Men talk to each other, too, ya know?” Max walks towards the seating area, and looks back and forth between the couches and his dirty work clothes. “Oh, hell I’m in trouble all the time anyway.” He sits on the chair that Sharon was previously occupying—a cream colored damask fabric, and I wince.

  I watch him try to get comfortable amidst all the little pillows. He looks like a giant in the compact accent chair. Throwing the pillows on the floor, he sighs and says, “It’s not right for you to run off and take Aidan. Can you at least text him and let him know you’re both alright? You know I’m gonna tell him I saw you, but he should hear it from you.”

  “Cassie sent me a text and I responded. I’m not ready to talk to him, and he has the show tonight. I need to cool off and he needs to figure out how to prove his innocence. Max, I know Brandon is your friend and you want to help, but there was a pair of ANOTHER WOMAN’S FUCKING UNDERWEAR IN MY BED! My FEET touched it!” I hope the babysitter, and the babies, did not hear that.

  “I know, I know. We’ll help him figure it out, but you have to be willing to talk to him.”

  “I don’t know if figuring it out is going to do it for me, though. It’s always something. My neighbor, Jane told me it was a revolving door of people all week, and many of those people were women. Especially the tramp across the street.” Now I sound like my mother.

  “If you marry a good looking guy, there are always going to be temptations, and women who are brazen enough to throw themselves at him. He’s in a band, Claire. What are you gonna do when we start doing shows out of town? Touring?”

  My bulging eyeballs and instant color change seem to be causing Max instant regret. He rubs his face and puts his beer down on the antique pine side table. That’s going to leave a ring.

  “I guess he still hasn’t told you. It’s nothing big at first. But you know we’re doing some original stuff. We’re gonna try to branch out. We have a gig coming up in Fredericksburg on Valentine’s Day weekend, and Brandon is trying to use his connections up in the DC area to find some bigger venues. He still knows a lot of guys up there from high school, and his sister is helping hi
m, too.”

  Great, that’s my birthday weekend. “So everyone knows about this but me. His elderly parents will probably be at the shows with lighters.” I lay down on the couch with my hand on my forehead. “Do you see what I mean now? He hid our son’s birth mother’s visit from me. I know the nanny was flirting with him, but he kept denying it. Diamond is over all the time gushing over him and treating me like shit, and now I find out he’s planning on touring without telling me.”

  “When you list it all out like that, it does sound kind of bad. But Claire, you don’t want to end up like Sharon, out there trying to find a man. You did some of that Internet dating and all that mess.”

  I smile and recall that Max was one of the guys who contacted me on a dating site during one of his and Bianca’s many breakups, but he never made the connection when we met at Brandon’s birthday party a few years ago. I clearly deleted his message because he was too young and too…

  “No I don’t, Max, but I also want a husband I can trust who tells me what’s going on, even if I may not like it.”

  “It’s funny how he’s so jealous of that guy you went on the trip with, but he doesn’t see how his own behavior is causing you to feel insecure.” Max laughs and takes the last swig of his beer.

  I sit up and say, “Brandon is really that jealous of Justin?”

  “Justin, that’s his name. I thought it was ‘blond, GQ asshole.’ And yes, your husband is jealous. After all, you have a history with this guy, you were all alone on a business trip in a romantic location. Brandon actually made us add some Breaking Benjamin songs to our set list again, just because you told him the guy sang karaoke at a gay bar.”

  I knew Brandon was a little annoyed with Justin, but I didn’t think he was actively worried about him as a threat. But then Bianca said that he proposed so quickly because of Justin. Jealousy can be a little flattering, but I don’t want my marriage to be based on Brandon feeling the need to win a competition.

  “Oh my God, this is such a mess. And answer me this. How will Brandon see his son when he’s on tour?”

  “People do it, Claire. I think he’s hoping that you’ll join him, at least some of the time. If we stay small potatoes, it will be less frequent and probably more regional. If we get huge, then the money will be there for travel. You could quit your job. I keep telling Bianca not to worry about how she hates working for her mother. She may not need to find a career. I know she wants to be a makeup artist, but she can do the band’s makeup. I would look stunning in eyeliner.”

  I rub my temples and raise my voice again. I can see why Bianca is frustrated with him. He doesn’t care about her dreams. “How the hell can any of you do this? Jon has a real corporate job and a family, and you and Rob have a business!”

  “We’ve thought of that. We’ve started training some new guys as apprentices, so if we need to go on tour we can get them to take over the business until we can get back, or maybe permanently. One of them was out on the job today with me, so Rob could leave early and go to your house to pack up the equipment for tonight’s show. If you have a dream, you make it work. Haven’t you ever had a dream?”

  My God, these men are all so selfish. I want to tell him that my biggest dream was always to be a mother. That isn’t a popular answer in today’s world, and apparently my strong maternal instinct makes me anti-feminist in some circles. How the hell are we going to ever adopt another baby now? Of course, I do have that job offer with the company in Philly, but we barely got to talk about it before I found evidence of lies and cheating. It doesn’t matter anyway—without full disclosure of his plans, how can we make decisions as a couple?

  “Right now my dream is to lay down with my little boy and get some sleep, but since it’s only seven o’clock I’m going to pack up and head to my parents’ house.” I jump up to stretch, glancing around for my shoes.

  “What? Why? I thought I convinced you to go home and talk to Brandon after the show.” Max leans forward and puts his hands on his knees.

  “No, just the opposite. You’ve made me realize that Brandon is going to find out I’m here and come to see me after the show, and I don’t want the other occupants of this house to witness the brawl of the century. Brandon’s too lazy to drive to Charlottesville, and my mother scares the bejesus out of him. They live in a gated community, and I need a gate right now.”

  Brandon

  Watching Diamond and Rob disappear into the van after all the stuff was unloaded makes me want to vomit and cheer at the same time. We can always get the van cleaned, but Diamond screwing Rob is a tremendous score for me. Too bad we don’t have it on camera, so I could show Claire. But knowing her, she would just say that Diamond is servicing the whole band. And knowing Diamond, she would love the opportunity. She basically volunteered for the job.

  At least Cassie heard from Claire. I don’t know where she is, but Jon showed me the text to prove that my wife checked in. She must be softening, or else she feels guilty because she took Aidan.

  I ball up my fists again, looking for something to punch. My wife and son are gone. I can’t prove my innocence, although I know the van groupie is the guilty party. And now there is a young pregnant girl who is due to give birth soon and wants US to be her baby’s parents. We really clean up on paper, because in actuality we are a catastrophe.

  “Hey, is Rob really out in the van with that…ugh…Max is here now. I saw him at the bar. Once Rob zips up his pants, we should be ready to do sound checks, right?” Zoe crinkles her face in disgust.

  “Hey, he’s getting a little action, and somehow this may get me off the hook.”

  She walks away in a huff and back out to the bar area, leaving me in the tiny backroom at O’Malley’s. Zoe is young and has no idea how the world works. The rock around my balls is tight enough on a regular basis—if I always told Claire the whole truth I would be castrated.

  CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

  Claire

  “You know, I’m the last one to defend a man who seems guilty…”

  My father shakes his head and widens his eyes in agreement to my mother’s statement, as he walks back into the kitchen to get more coffee.

  “That’s for sure,” he says. I glare at him in alarm and he puts his finger to his lips to silence me. He smirks, but then stops, most likely out of respect for his daughter’s second failing marriage. My mother skipped church this morning, but my father attended to pray for the rest of us misguided souls.

  “…but was it one of those thong panties? I saw a show on TV where they were saying that they can stretch to fit almost anyone. Maybe it was the pregnant girl. I know that’s probably not realistic, but I still can’t get my head around people sleeping in other people’s beds? I mean, who are these people Brandon associates with? It’s like Goldilocks porn.” I suppress a grin, but refuse to tell my mother we were thinking alike on that one.

  I glance into the open family room and my father is sitting quietly with Aidan on his lap, turning the pages of a picture book and naming animals. “Kiddo, Grandpa doesn’t know what an alpaca is. Jeez, when your mom was little these things just had cow, chicken, horse. Normal animals.” He must have been the one to supervise my animal knowledge.

  My eyes get teary—not for my father’s city guy ignorance of exotic mammals, but for my poor little baby, who has no idea how screwed up his parents are. I don’t know if this was the best place to come for answers, but it’s a safe, peaceful refuge. Well, except for…my mother means well, but…

  “Mom, if it belonged to Cassie, she would admit it, wouldn’t she? She was caught in our bed, so wouldn’t it make sense that she wouldn’t lie about leaving her panties behind, especially if it meant saving her friends’ marriage?” I lean back in the wooden kitchen chair. Once again, in this enormous house we are sitting in the uncomfortable kitchen.

  When I got here last night, I broke down in hysterics. That’s one thing Mom and Dad are good for. They can handle my meltdowns. I didn’t realize how much I was hol
ding in, but once I calmed down my mother got our room ready, and Aidan and I went to sleep. A lot can be cured by snuggling a little tot in feety pajamas all night.

  My mind returns to my husband’s duplicity and I add, “Unless—it could be Tatiana’s. All this time I am thinking it’s Diamond’s, and maybe it isn’t.”

  “I don’t think he was doing anything with the nanny. But yes, she would have had private access to your room at some point.” My mother taps her tea cup and says, “It just doesn’t add up, though. I fired her and didn’t leave her alone for a moment before she left. So it wasn’t a disgruntled employee thing. I suppose she could have done it in order to make you suspicious, but how would that help her? I don’t know, make you think Brandon was having an affair so she could break you up? I’m really reaching here.”

  My mother explained last night that she was the one to fire Tatiana. She said she was walking around improperly dressed, and when she confronted Brandon, he said it was an ongoing problem. Another thing he was hiding from me. And he’s not man enough to take care of that? My mother had to do it?

  “Well, she was walking around topless, so if nothing was going on between them, the girl is not right in the head.” My father saunters back into the kitchen to retrieve Aidan’s sippy cup.

  “WHAT?! You said she was improperly dressed? She was actually naked?”

  “Well, technically that is improperly dressed.” My mother turns to my father. “And thank you, Mr. Big Mouth. I am in charge of counseling the distressed daughters.”

  “I’m sorry, I though you told her. Jeez. Her husband hides stuff from her. None of her friends told her about Brandon’s plans with the band. It’s like she’s a mental patient and no one wants to push her over the edge.” He winces and says, “Sorry, Honey I don’t mean that you are like a mental patient, actually. Just that it’s the way—”

  “Yes, she gets it. Now go watch that baby. That’s your one job right now. He’s probably poured your coffee in the dried flower arrangement by now, or taken the batteries out of the remote to suck on them.”