by Violet Howe
“I’m not a professional.” My answer was curt, which wasn’t my intention, but I felt like I was on a runaway train that was taking me places I didn’t want to go.
“Oh, I only meant from an artistic standpoint. You don’t have to let me know right away. We’ve got time. Think about it. Talk it over, and get back with me. I’d love to have you there.”
She walked away, and Dax looked at me with the goofiest grin I’d ever seen.
“Well, hot damn! A recital. You and me. How about that? The Most Inspiring Couple were asked to inspire at a recital,” he said, holding up the certificate next to his enormous grin.
“I’m not feeling well,” I said, turning to walk toward the car. “Can we go?”
His face fell as I turned away, and guilt twisted my insides for robbing him of his enthusiasm. I couldn’t help it, though. I felt turned inside out. Like something I’d kept carefully hidden had been exposed to the world.
Not to mention that even the thought of performing again made me nauseous. Obviously, an amateur ballroom dance recital was nothing like being center stage for the ballet, but I hadn’t performed in any capacity since that fateful night when my toe broke and my life careened off track. I couldn’t imagine willingly revisiting the vulnerability of memories and the reminder of things lost.
I made my way to my car and got in, slamming the door behind me.
“Are you okay?” Dax asked as he got in on the passenger’s side. “What’s wrong? I didn’t see you eat anything. Is it your stomach? Do you need something to eat?”
“No, I don’t need anything to eat. I need you to not take something that I confided in a dark moment and blast it out to the world.”
Shock registered on his face and his mouth fell open. “Wait? What? What did I do?”
“We’ve been dancing here for over two months, and have you ever once heard me mention that I was a ballet dancer or that I taught dance?”
He closed his mouth and drew his brows together. “No, but I figured it just never came up.”
I exhaled sharply and turned the key in the ignition. “It never came up because I didn’t want it to come up. I don’t talk about my past, Dax. I don’t tell people about it, I don’t bring it up, and I don’t care to discuss it with anyone. I told you because I trusted you, and I never expected you to tell anyone else.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. I would never betray what you’ve told me in confidence, but I had no idea your being a dancer and teaching dance was top secret. It’s not like it’s something to be ashamed of.”
I whirled to face him. “Are you saying the rest of what I shared with you is something I should be ashamed of?”
His mouth dropped open again. “What? No! Not at all. What happened? I don’t understand.”
“I turned my back on being a dancer. It was one of the most painful decisions I’ve ever made, but I gave it up because I had to. I don’t want to be reminded of that time, and I definitely don’t want to answer questions from Betty on why I left or what happened to my career.”
“But she didn’t ask you those questions. She was impressed with you. She was complimenting you.”
“You don’t understand.”
He threw his hands up and shook his head. “You’re right. I don’t. You obviously love to dance, and you are so damned good at it that everyone in the room can’t take their eyes off you when you’re on the floor, including the teacher. I know you think you had to give it up, but don’t you think you’ve punished yourself enough? Isn’t it time you let yourself enjoy dancing again? You can’t tell me you haven’t had fun these past ten weeks.”
“I didn’t give up dance to punish myself. I gave up dance because I had two kids to feed.”
“I don’t think so. I think you could have kept teaching and still fed your kids. You could have kept dancing, but you were embarrassed. You were angry with yourself, so you gave up the one thing you loved the most as penance for what you saw as your crimes. But you’re the only person demanding a punishment. You can dance. You can enjoy dancing again. You’re the only one stopping you.”
“Well, thank you for the psychoanalysis, Dr. Pearson. I wasn’t aware you had a degree in the field.”
I backed out of the parking space and roared out of the parking lot, slinging gravel behind my tires.
We rode in silence for a few blocks before Dax cleared his throat.
“Look, Maggie, I’m sorry that I upset you. I was just proud of you, and I wanted Betty to know what you had accomplished. I didn’t know—”
“No, you didn’t know. You assumed. You assumed I wanted to dance, so you took me to dance lessons. Now you assume I want to be in a recital and be up there performing on some rinky-dink stage in some community center with a bunch of parents and spouses watching half-ass dance routines choreographed by someone who learned to dance when the Charleston was invented. Well, you’re wrong.”
The silence returned and remained for the rest of the ride home.
My face flushed hot, and my hands trembled on the wheel. The sane, rational part of me was horrified by the way I’d spoken to Dax. I’d been so harsh with him, even though I knew he hadn’t meant any harm and that it was my own issues causing me to overreact. I couldn’t deny the truth in his words, but the putrid old wounds had been torn open, and their vile nastiness was seeping into my system and clouding my judgment.
“Can we talk about this?” Dax asked, exiting the car after I slammed the car door and walked up the driveway to my front entrance.
I didn’t answer him. I didn’t want to talk about it any further. I didn’t want to delve any deeper or tear off any more scabs. I also didn’t want to have to back down and apologize or admit I was wrong.
But I didn’t want him to leave, either. I didn’t want him to walk away and leave me seething in the stew of my own making.
So, I said nothing.
I opened the door and tossed my keys on the foyer table, heading to the bar to pour a glass of wine.
Dax came in a few steps behind me and slowly closed the door, standing next to it as he stared at me.
I turned my back so I didn’t have to see him, and I was relieved when I heard his footsteps cross the tile and then the door to the hall bathroom closed.
I went out on the patio and plopped down on the sofa, unsure of how to back down from the ledge I’d climbed out on.
My pulse rate had started to calm, and the calmer I got, the more I realized how out of line I’d been with Dax. I’d let old fears and old embarrassments rise to the surface and take control.
My phone beeped on the table, and I looked down to see an email notification from Galen. I should have waited until everything had calmed down. I should have let Dax come out of the bathroom, and I should have apologized for overreacting and tried to explain the jumble of feelings that were at war inside me.
But I didn’t. I slid my finger across the notification and opened my daughter’s email, not knowing my night was about to get much worse.
52 YOU’VE GOT MAIL
Dear Mom,
I realize an email is probably not the way to address this, but I don’t know what else to do. I know you’re going to be upset, and then we’ll both get emotional, and I feel like you won’t be able to hear what I really need to say.
So, I’m going to type it out here, and then you can read it and get however emotional you’d like. Then, maybe when the dust settles, we can talk.
First and foremost, I want to say how much I appreciate all you’ve done for me. The sacrifices you’ve made, the love you’ve shown, and the support you’ve given have not gone unnoticed, and though I don’t always tell you like I should, I can’t thank you enough for everything.
I know we haven’t always had the easiest relationship, and sometimes I think it’s because we’re too much alike, and sometimes I think we’re too different. But you’re my mom, and I love you. I don’t know where I’d be without you.
As I’ve been preparing for my wedding
to Tate, I’m very aware that you never got a wedding, and that I’m experiencing something you were robbed of. I can’t imagine what pain you went through with Gerry. I think my relationship with Tate makes me see it differently than I did when I was younger. I don’t know what I’d do if I found out Tate was lying to me or if something happened to us like what you experienced.
I’m truly sorry for the pain me and Cabe being born caused you, and I have wished a million times that you could have had a different life. One you got to choose.
I know you’ll just say what you always do—that you love us and you wouldn’t change a thing if it meant you couldn’t have had us.
That’s great of you to say, but seriously. Your life would have turned out so much differently if you hadn’t met my dad and had us. And I have to think in a lot of ways, it would have been a better life.
So please know that when I made this decision, it wasn’t because I didn’t think of your feelings or because I don’t understand why it will upset you. I get it. I really do.
But all that being said, I didn’t choose for Gerry Tucker to be my father. I had no choice in that matter at all. Whether either of us likes it or not, he’s my dad. I’ve wrestled with that and struggled with that in different ways for my whole entire life, and I want to come to peace with it.
I want my father to be part of my wedding. I want him to walk me down the aisle like any other girl would want her father to do. I want to have something that is a normal dad and daughter thing because up until this point in my life, that’s something I’ve never had.
I can picture your face right now as you read this. It hurts my heart to even think of how you might be reacting. I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you.
I hope this is the only wedding I ever have. I want to grow old with Tate and have his babies and hold his hand when it’s bent and wrinkled.
So, I don’t think I’ll get another chance to have this moment. I know that if you had been able to have a wedding, you would have wanted Papa to walk you down the aisle. And yes, your relationship with him was much different than mine with Gerry, but still. I want what everyone else wants for their wedding day.
Maybe, just maybe, this can be a new beginning. Maybe this is the turning point, and Gerry walking me down the aisle will be the start of a new relationship with him. Maybe he’ll want to be more involved and maybe me making this gesture will help him see what he’s missing out on.
Jeffrey, Julie, and Cabe all tell me I’m nuts for ever thinking he will change, but I have to try. He’s the only dad I have, and I want to know I did everything I could to have a relationship with him.
Can you please forgive me? And can you please do this for me? Can you allow him to be there…for me?
I love you, Mom. I won’t do this against your wishes, but I am asking you to consider what it means to me.
Galen
53 OVERFLOW
Dax had come out to the patio at some point while I was reading, and he sat on the side of the sofa watching me read as the tears streamed down my face.
I dropped the phone to my lap when I was done and buried my face in my hands, trying to escape the complete insanity of the whole situation.
I couldn’t win. I would never be free of Gerry Tucker and the pain he’d caused. Everything in my life since him had been colored in some way by the choices I’d made, and even tonight with my outburst after dance, I was still allowing the past to dictate my present.
My daughter’s pain stabbed my heart, and I knew I couldn’t deny her what was rightfully hers, yet I couldn’t bear to watch him walk my baby down the aisle in a role he’d never deserved to play.
Dax put his hand on my back and I jerked free, standing to walk away. “I need to be alone, Dax.”
“Maggie, we need to talk.”
“No. No, we don’t. I can’t talk right now.” The barrage of feelings assaulting me was overwhelming, and I didn’t want to completely lose control in front of him.
He came and stood behind me, and I wiped at my tears, trying to pull it together long enough to see him out.
“Maggie, I’m sorry. I was out of line in telling you how to feel and—”
“Dax, I can’t deal with this right now. I need to call my daughter.”
“Is everything okay? Did something happen with Galen?”
I walked past him and into the kitchen to refill my glass of wine. “Galen’s fine. It’s me who’s screwed up. As you well know.”
He followed me inside. “Is everything okay with the wedding?”
“The wedding is great. The father of the bride is getting a red carpet rolled out for him, and if I protest, I’m the one with issues. Why is that? Why is it that no matter how hard I try to do the right thing, it’s somehow never enough? I always have to give more.”
“If it bothers you for him to be there, tell her it’s not going to work. Surely, she can understand why you feel the way you do.”
I turned up the wine glass to drink but saw a piece of cork floating in it, so I went to the sink and poured it out in frustration. “Oh, she understands. But she’s right. It’s her wedding, and it’s not her fault that he’s her father. That’s on me. That’s all my fault. So, I have to be the one to make it right.”
“Okay, so then you let him come and walk her down the aisle.”
“I don’t want him to walk her down the aisle,” I yelled. “I don’t want him anywhere near her. Or me. Or anyone in my family. He did this to us. Why doesn’t he have to have consequences, too? Why does it all fall on me?”
“I don’t know, but if you want to put her feelings first, and she wants to have him there, then you gotta figure out a way to be okay with it.”
“Thank you once again, Dr. Pearson, for another riveting analysis. I had no idea a solution was so easy to find. Thank God you were here to help.”
Dax frowned and ran his fingers through his hair. “I’m starting to feel like no matter what I say tonight, it’s not going to be the right thing. I’m not the enemy here, Maggie. I’m trying to help.”
“Well, you’re not, okay? You’re only adding more pressure. There’s no winning solution here. I can either break my daughter’s heart or piss off my son and my parents, and either way, I’m going to be miserable. And that sucks. I can’t win. I made one damned mistake which led to a whole bunch of other mistakes, and I will never be free of it. Never! It doesn’t matter how hard I try to move past it. It keeps coming back.”
I slammed my hands on the kitchen counter and turned my back to him.
He stood where he was, and I prayed he would just leave before I said more things I would regret. My pulse was pounding so hard that my head hurt, and an angry panic was boiling up inside me as I struggled to maintain control.
“Look at it this way,” Dax said. “After the wedding, there’s pretty much not any reason for you to deal with him again. The kids are both adults. They’ll both be married. You won’t have to see him again. So, let him walk her down the aisle. I’ll make sure he doesn’t come anywhere near you that day.”
“What?” I turned to face him as my mind projected scenes of Dax and Gerry fighting at the wedding, my parents asking me who Dax was, and all our family and friends jumping to conclusions about our relationship. The pressure intensified. “You’re planning on being there?”
Hurt flashed across his face, and he frowned. “Yeah, I’m planning on being there. It’s my house, and if I think there’s going to be a confrontation, I’m damned well going to be there. But I guess I thought I’d be invited. Maybe that’s just another one of my incorrect assumptions, huh?”
His words added more guilt, which was the one thing I couldn’t possibly take more of in that moment. My frustration with the world exploded in a nasty way.
“Maybe we’ve both made some incorrect assumptions,” I snarled. “Like assuming this was going anywhere. We couldn’t be more complete opposites if we tried. I’m not ever moving out to live in a camper on a cow ranch, and I’m
pretty sure you’re not going to hang up your boots and move to the city with me. So, what are we doing? We’re just going to drag this out until one of us decides it’s not working and walks away. Then whoever’s left gets to pick up the pieces and deal with the heartbreak. No, thank you. Let’s just call this what it is. We’ve both had a good time, but I don’t need to meet your parents and you don’t need to meet mine. There’s no future here.”
I turned so I couldn’t see the pain in his eyes. A little voice in the back of my head was screaming at me to stop, but I was too far gone.
“I need to call my daughter, so if we’re done here…. “
He walked around the island and stood in front of me, making it harder to avoid eye contact. He opened his mouth to speak, and I put up my hand.
“Don’t. Don’t say anything, Dax. It will just make it harder. Just go. It was never going to work anyway.”
He walked away, pulling my heart with him as he went, and I closed my eyes and bit down hard on my lip to keep from crying out in pain.
“You know,” he said from behind me, “at some point, you’re going to have to forgive yourself and let it go. You won’t be free until you can do that.”
“You don’t understand,” I said without looking back. “You don’t know what it’s like to hurt the people you love and not be able to fix it. I’m better off alone.”
54 BESTIE WISDOM
I called Sandy as soon as his truck left the driveway.
“I’ve screwed up. Oh, Sandy. I messed everything up. I can’t fix it. I can’t make it right. It’s all screwed up.”
“Slow down, slow down. What exactly is it you’re so sure you screwed up?”
“Everything. All of it.”
“Okay, well, I’m pretty sure it’s impossible for one person to single-handedly screw up everything. You’re not that powerful. So, let’s narrow it down and take it one issue at a time. Is this offspring-related, parent-related, job-related, or love life-related?”
