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A Conflicted Woman

Page 18

by T. B. Markinson


  “What does that involve?”

  “With Tie, anything.” She paused, quite possibly for dramatic effect. “I wish I could go into details, but I don’t know any. I can only say Tie isn’t happy with Peter’s choices. And, I don’t think she even knows about the tryst he had with Maddie in your home. For your sake, I hope she never learns.”

  “Huh.” I glanced out the window, taking in the dark sky. “Sarah said you weren’t the type to blurt out secrets.”

  “That wasn’t a secret. Maddie and Peter slept together in your home. Besides, she told me you and Sarah confronted her about it.” She resembled a judge who’d just overturned a guilty plea.

  “But, you don’t plan on telling Tie, who used to be one of your besties.”

  “Besties? Somehow I think you’re mocking me by using a word that doesn’t suit you.”

  It annoyed me that she knew that about me.

  “No, I don’t plan on telling Tie. Just like I don’t plan on telling anyone what’s troubling you.” She waved her hand for me to get to it.

  “Is this your side business? Counseling the inept?”

  “You aren’t inept.” She took a tiny sip of wine.

  “Flattery will get you nowhere.”

  “Not talking won’t help you, Bottle Rocket.” She tapped her fingernails against her glass.

  Was she counting down the seconds for my head to shoot off into the sky?

  “What did Maddie tell you?” I asked.

  “Not a thing.”

  I gave her my level with me glare.

  She didn’t take the bait. “You don’t intimidate me.”

  “Does anything?”

  “I hate snakes.”

  “Literally or figuratively?”

  She furrowed her brow. “Are you going to yank my chain all night? If so, do you mind if I order Chinese? I’m famished.”

  “Sounds good to me. I can’t remember if I ate lunch.”

  “Me neither.” Courtney offered a genuine smile. “I’m hankering for egg drop soup, sesame chicken, egg rolls, and fried wontons.”

  “Add crab cheese wontons and orange beef, and I’ll spill my guts out to you.”

  She tapped the screen on her phone. “I would have thought crab too much for you.”

  “It’s a new thing I’ve added to my limited repertoire. They aren’t too crabby.”

  “Unlike you.” Her voice was sultry.

  My eyes boggled, I assumed since I felt a rush of air under the lids, and I blurted, “I thought you only flirted with Sarah and Maddie.”

  “That was until I knew you had a thing for crab cheese wontons. Oh, yes. Delivery.” Courtney put a finger up to me as if I was going to stop her from ordering. She rattled off the selections, at the last moment adding chicken with cashews. Ending the call, she spoke to me. “You have another twenty minutes to stall.”

  “Does that mean I don’t get dinner until I spill?”

  “You see; you’re not inept at all.” She raised one eyebrow.

  “And you’re nothing like my therapist.”

  Her eyes widened, causing her forehead to crease. “God, I hope not.”

  “What are you saying about my therapist?”

  “It’s cute how you get worked up about little things.”

  “Are you saying the return of my alcoholic ex, who also blackmailed me, became a prostitute, and nearly ruined my relationship with Sarah in the beginning stages, is a little thing?”

  Courtney steepled her fingers, resting them against her chin. “Nope, that doesn’t sound like a little thing at all. Tell me about her.”

  “You tricked me.”

  “That’s a possibility. Or it could have been an accident. Does it matter, though? It opened the door.” She mimicked this.

  I stabbed the air with my finger, about to list the reasons why it mattered.

  Courtney’s headshake and hand motion for me not to start quieted me. “Your ex. I only want to hear about her.”

  We sat at the round table by the window. Most of the Chinese food containers were now empty.

  “Meg sounds like a piece of work. And to waltz back into your life, acting as if you two could pick up like nothing happened—even Kit, who doesn’t have many scruples, would know better. Or he would at least intimate he should know better.” Courtney deftly selected a lone slice of chicken with her chopsticks. After chewing, she asked, “How does that make you feel? Her acting like the way she treated you wasn’t that awful?”

  “Annoyed. Frustrated. And…”

  “Yes?” Her eyes were hopeful.

  “It makes me question if she really had treated me badly or if I’m blowing things out of proportion. She seems to think everything is water under the bridge and I should get over it. At least, that’s how she makes me feel.”

  “Our minds do love to torture us. Let’s run down the big-ticket items. She showed up drunk at a conference. She was verbally abusive. In a drunken rage, she hit you. She blackmailed you for months, threatening to spread malicious rumors to ruin your career.” Courtney leaned on her forearms. “Just one of those is bad news. Add them all up and it paints the picture of a monster.”

  And I let that monster control me—the true source of my shame.

  “You want it?” After getting the go-ahead gesture, I munched into the last crab cheese wonton.

  “The question is can you forgive her?”

  I forced the bite down and covered my mouth. “Meg?”

  She bonked my head with her hand. “Who else?”

  I studied my image in the gilded mirror behind Courtney’s head. “I really don’t know. Part of me just wants to ignore her completely. Leave her in the past.”

  “How many times have you told your students, ‘Those who don’t learn from their mistakes are doomed to repeat them’?”

  “Never,” I said with forced conviction.

  “You’re either a terrible historian or a liar.”

  “Or both.” I shrugged.

  She laughed.

  “Do you think I should forgive Meg?” Something I didn’t think I was capable of. Not completely. Maybe I could accept an apology—a heartfelt one, but that was all.

  Courtney set her chopsticks down. Plucking a fortune cookie from the bag, she said, “Let’s leave it to fate.”

  I groaned. “This is why Maddie instructed me to come to you? For you to decide my fate via a fortune cookie? Why not just buy a dartboard? Wad up all the fortunes, and then blindfold me before tossing the dart?”

  “That sounds like the perfect solution, but I don’t have a dartboard and the thought of making a Target run makes me want to puke.” She placed the cookie on the table and proceeded to smash it with her palm. “Okay, whatever this slip says, you have to abide by it.” She fished the paper out of the crumbs and read in a melodramatic voice, “Today it’s up to you to create the peacefulness you long for.”

  “You made that up!” I snatched the slip from her. After reading the same words, I crumpled it up and tossed it over my shoulder. “This is bogus.”

  “Fortune cookies don’t lie.”

  I grabbed another one. “Let’s see what this says about your life.” I cracked it in half. “Your shoes will make you happy today.”

  We both glanced down at her bare feet, her toenails a lurid red.

  “See!” I said in a victorious voice.

  Courtney pointed to her discarded heels by the loveseat. “A woman complimented my Jimmy Choos right before giving me her number.”

  “Oh, please. I’m not buying that.”

  Courtney fiddled with her phone before tapping the screen. The name associated with the number was Jimmy Choo fan. Of course, this didn’t mean it’d happened earlier today.

  I grunted, leaning back in my chair and flailing my arms to the side. “I give up.”

  “Does that mean you’ll meet with Meg? Get everything out in the open?”

  “I don’t know what it means. I had peace before Meg reappeared.”
/>   “Maybe you should tell her that. Tell her you wish her the best, but you have too much to lose letting her back in. End it there.”

  Courtney was right, as much as I hated to admit that.

  “Do you feel better?” She put one foot on the chair cushion and hugged her knee.

  “I feel stuffed.” I patted my belly.

  She looked me up and down. “I think you feel better. Fortune cookie magic has that effect on even those who won’t admit they believe.”

  “You’re a charlatan. A total fraud.”

  She let out a bark of laughter. “I’m in advertising. It’s my job to get people to believe in anything. To make them want things they don’t need. Of course, I’m a fraud. A very successful one, I might add.”

  “Then why’d you let me go on and on about Meg?” I circled a useless hand in the air.

  “You wanted to,” she said in a tone that made it seem like that was plain as day.

  “I’m afraid to talk to her.”

  “Why?”

  “She has—had this power over me. Made me feel pathetic. Like my mom used to make me feel. I don’t like myself when I’m around her. I don’t want to go back to feeling that way.”

  “Then don’t.”

  I sighed in exasperation. “Like it’s that easy.”

  “It is.” She set her foot back down on the floor. Taking both of my hands in hers, she said, “You are not the same person you were back then. You’re happily married to a gorgeous woman.” She exaggerated the word gorgeous. “You have two amazing kids. Great friends. And fortune cookie power.”

  I dropped her hands. “You had me until—”

  She motioned stop right there. “In all seriousness, don’t let Meg or the old feelings creep back in. Even before Meg walked back into your life, her presence or the damage she inflicted probably never left you. But you’re stronger. And you have Sarah and the twins to fight for. All you have to do is believe in yourself. You’re right; that slip of paper doesn’t hold the power.” She took my hand and placed it on my chest, with both of hers on top. “You do. Feel it. Embrace it. Believe it.” She leaned in, resting her forehead to mine. “You can do it, Lizzie.”

  I bobbed my head, pulling away. “I can do it.”

  “And to remind you.” She got to her feet and retrieved the fortune from the floor. Uncrumpling it, she slipped it into my hand. “Take this with you.”

  At the door, she placed a hand on my shoulders, making a show of kissing each of my cheeks. Then she shoved me into the harsh lighting in the hallway, closing the door with emphasis.

  “Was that necessary?” I muttered as I made my way to the elevator.

  The house was eerily quiet when I returned at a quarter to ten.

  Sarah was sitting up in bed with all the pillows behind her, Maddie’s tattered copy of The Girl on the Train resting against her face as she sawed logs.

  I tiptoed to her side of the bed and carefully eased the paperback off her face. She stirred but didn’t wake. I kissed her forehead.

  Not ready to go to sleep, I headed for the library to get some work done, but soon enough, my fingers pounded away on the laptop, making progress on my secret project, not university work.

  Around midnight, I stretched my arms overhead. Although my mind was racing, I knew I’d better get some sleep. Not only was it my turn to get the twinkies up and going, I had two lectures to give. Back in grad school, I could pull an all-nighter and not pay for it the following day. The closer I inched to forty, the less energy I had. In my younger years, I’d thought losing the ability to steamroll through exhaustion was a myth. Sadly, it was becoming a reality.

  Chapter Seventeen

  A sliver of daylight fell on my face, rousing me from a restful and deep sleep.

  Sitting up, I assessed the situation.

  I was alone in bed.

  The twinks weren’t on the video monitors, meaning they weren’t in their cribs.

  The alarm I’d set had been shut off.

  “Shit.”

  I rushed downstairs and found Sarah feeding Ollie and Fred.

  “I’m so sorry.” I motioned for her to move so I could take over.

  Sarah laughed. “Mommy crashed the party right when we’re finishing. Typical.” She playfully tsked.

  “My alarm—”

  She raised the oatmeal spoon to cut me off, some splattering onto Ollie’s tray. “I turned it off. You looked like you needed sleep. Of course, I’ll have to punish you later.” Her suggestive smile magically abolished all traces of guilt.

  “Looking forward to it.” I wiped Freddie’s face and fingers. “How’s my little man?” I lifted him out of the high chair into my arms, cuddling him close. Even though he was a year old, it still amazed me that Sarah and I had created two humans whom I loved more every single day.

  His smile made me regret missing the early shift with him.

  “Good morning!” Rose shouted from the entryway.

  “In the kitchen,” I responded.

  Sarah’s eyes were glued to Ollie, who was decimating a slice of banana with her fingers.

  “Good morning,” Rose repeated.

  “Would you like a cup of coffee?” I said after Sarah didn’t speak, although her body wasn’t completely rigid, which I took as a thawing of her feelings toward Rose and Troy.

  “I would love one,” she spoke sweetly, and I wondered if she felt like Stalin at the Yalta Conference, wanting to convince FDR to give the Soviets a sphere of political influence in Eastern and Central Europe.

  I handed Fred off to Rose. “Sarah?”

  “Please.”

  Rose leaned down and kissed Ollie’s head. After sitting on the seat across from Sarah, she locked her eyes onto mine. “What’s new here?”

  Not used to making small talk with the woman who loved to torture me by miming she wanted to mow me down with her car, I stared for a handful of heartbeats before stating, “All’s well on the Western Front. You?”

  “No complaints.” The way she said it suggested the opposite.

  “How’s Troy?” I scooped coffee grinds into the filter.

  “Looking forward to Thanksgiving break.”

  I nodded. “I haven’t met a teacher yet who didn’t have a countdown. Not that we tell our students that, of course.”

  Rose’s laughter was genuine. She turned her attention to Fred, chatting with the observant child who still didn’t speak much. Not that Rose minded.

  I held both cups of coffee in the air. “Stay seated.”

  Rose nodded, her expression thankful.

  Don’t thank me yet. I imagined brokering the Treaty of Versailles would be an easier feat. Of course, that had led to World War II, so probably not the best example, unless my goal was to separate Sarah from Rose in a spectacular way involving the death of millions.

  I placed the mugs down, dashed back for my tea, and quickly took my seat.

  Sarah fussed with Ollie, who seesawed in her lap.

  Fred laid his head against his grandmother’s shoulder.

  I slurped my tea.

  “Anything happen last night?” I posed to Sarah.

  She shook her head.

  “Did you have History Club?” Rose asked, her face displaying she was grabbing at straws to keep silence from dampening the mood even more.

  My brain scrambled for a solution.

  “Nah. I had dinner with Courtney.” I shrugged as if saying, “Give me something I can use.”

  Rose’s eyes widened. “Really?”

  “She has some concerns about Peter and Tie and wanted to hash them out.”

  “And?”

  “Not sure we solved anything. Families, you know, can be difficult waters to navigate at times.”

  Sarah kicked me under the table, but Rose perked up in her seat as if hoping I’d go further. How, though?

  Honesty, perhaps. “Like you two acting like strangers.”

  The look Sarah shot me would have zapped my courage if I hadn’t f
elt completely in the right.

  “This has been going on for weeks, and what has it gotten you?” I asked Sarah. “It’s tearing you up inside.” I turned my focus to Rose. “While I like it when you’re nice to me, the reason behind your kindness is upsetting the balance between you two. Please, work it out. Say sorry. And move forward together. If you can’t do it for yourselves, think about the twins.”

  Sarah swept a few strands of hair out of Ollie’s eyes and said, “You’re using our twins. That’s low.”

  I extended a finger in the air. “But true. Children need love.” I’d gone this far, so I decided to finish it. “Take me for an example. I craved love and attention from those around me but didn’t get it. Both of you know how that’s played out. My mother. Meg. Not being the greatest partner.” I put my hands together. “Talk this out. I’m literally begging you two.” I let my hands fall. “I didn’t have the reckoning I needed with my mother before her death. I danced around it some but didn’t put it to bed. I don’t want to make that mistake with others in my life. I don’t want you two to have regrets.”

  “Is that what you’re going to do with Meg? Talk things out?” Sarah shot back at me with a look that suggested she would go there to shut me up.

  I swatted it away and simply nodded.

  “Meg? The Meg?” Rose said, concern giving force to her meaning.

  “She’s back in town and wants Lizzie to forgive her and be friends, apparently,” Sarah told her mom.

  “Oh, dear. That’s a lot for her to ask of you,” Rose said to Sarah, making me realize Rose knew a lot more about Meg than I thought.

  Sarah continued. “Tell me about it. The woman did everything in her power to control Lizzie, and then when Lizzie broke free, she tried to destroy her. Just like Lizzie’s mother.”

  The two of them fell into conversation, dissecting the Meg/Mom connection as if I weren’t in the room.

  Halle-fucking-lujah!

  I bolted my tea. “My work here is done. Next on my to-do list: prep Wednesday’s evening lecture and shape the young minds of America’s future.” I tapped my fingers together, mad-scientist like.

  I kissed Sarah’s cheek and patted each twin on the head on my way out of the kitchen to shower and dress before heading to campus. Not that Sarah noticed. Once she and her mother got going on one of their favorite threads, hours could slip by in a flurry.

 

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