Not Perfect: A Novel

by Elizabeth Laban

  That was all Tabitha knew, until the week before Stuart disappeared at least. Stuart could never really talk about it after that rare confessional moment during their engagement. If it ever even almost came up, he would walk out of the room or change the subject. When Tabitha first heard the details, about two years into their marriage, she was shocked on so many levels. What could possibly prompt someone to do that? If Abigail had given him a reason, he never shared it with Tabitha. But the thing that shocked her the most was that the man he described, the person who went to law school and was going to marry Abigail Golding, who sounded like he was fun loving and playful, present and interested, climbing a tree on a dare or staying up all night just to be able to say he did it, didn’t remind her at all of the person she married. That person was all business, never straying from the plan. That is, until last summer.

  Tabitha had managed to hold on to the baguette. They had run into a fair number of homeless people, and each time Toby would kindly ask if they wanted something to eat. He would then hand them some of the baked goods, explaining that the food was clean and untouched. And each time, Tabitha had to look slightly away, because she didn’t want to give the food to these people, she wanted to keep it for herself. Finally, Toby seemed satisfied, and she still had the long loaf of bread in her hand. She held it up to him, raising her eyebrows as if to say, What about this?

  “Keep that one,” he said kindly. “They make delicious bread.”

  At the corner of Walnut and Eighteenth, Toby’s phone rang. Tabitha watched as he turned away and said something quietly, then moved a little farther away, leaving Tabitha standing alone. He was back in less than a minute, but the excitement that she was getting used to seeing on his face was gone.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “Yes, fine,” he said quietly. “That was my ex-wife. The good news is that I get to see my daughter. Something came up for my ex, and she asked if I could take her tonight.”

  Tabitha wanted to ask what the bad news was, but she didn’t. She wasn’t sure how they were going to end their time together, so she was somewhat relieved that it was ended for them. When they said good-bye, she vaguely waved in the southern direction, indicating that she lived nearby, but she didn’t give him any specifics. Toby hesitated for a second.

  “See you at the next game?” he asked.

  Now she hesitated. Well, no, not necessarily, she wanted to say. She glanced at the bread in her hand, then back toward Toby. She took a deep breath.

  “Yes, see you there,” she said.

  Toby grinned at her, and she felt herself grinning back, then laughing. He waved, and as he walked away from her, east on Walnut, she could still hear him chuckling.

  Now she headed home but took a slight detour to the house with the window box full of basil. She could make her usual toast tonight. If only she had a tomato. With that, it was sad enough. But bread and basil was even sadder. She was happy to see the plant was as robust as ever. She waited until there was nobody near her and ripped a handful of leaves off. She tried to look like she was comfortable doing it. Maybe it was her house, and she was simply picking her own herbs. It was all a big show, because absolutely nobody seemed to care. She told herself to write this down when she got home.

  Where could she get a tomato?

  And then she had what had become an outrageous idea. She’d buy one. She stuffed the basil into her purse and zipped it shut. She walked into the small grocery store she used to walk into almost daily, and she pretended for a few minutes that things were like they used to be, when she could walk in and use her debit card for forty dollars or ninety dollars, and it just didn’t make a difference. Right away she saw Marlon, her favorite check-out person. She walked over to him.

  “Hi! I just wanted to let you know, I got the bread before I came in,” she said, holding it up for him to see.

  “Oh, okay, no problem,” he said. “Where have you been? I haven’t seen you.”

  “I was away for a little while,” she said. “I don’t know where I was.”

  She had to keep moving. Seeing Marlon and having him be so kind was not helping her pretend. She felt the burn of tears behind her eyes and faked a sneeze.

  “Bless you,” he said.

  Now she was having trouble holding back the tears. They spilled out and she wiped them away, looking in her purse for a tissue, but she saw the basil and sensed a sob building deep inside her chest.

  “Be right back,” she said, and walked away toward the produce section. Why did she think this was a good idea? She sensed Marlon’s eyes on her. He had seen her in much worse situations. Like the time Fern had just learned to walk, well, really, she had just learned to run, and Tabitha was checking out. She had a huge pile of items on the belt, and Fern got away from her for one second, really, it was one second! And when Tabitha looked up, Fern was outside the store, on the sidewalk! And moving toward Spruce Street. Tabitha screamed and ran, leaving everything. When she got to Fern, she couldn’t breathe. Fern was fine. She might never have run into the road: she seemed to sense the division of sidewalk versus street even then. But Tabitha was traumatized. She could have so easily gone back into the store and finished. But she didn’t. She just picked Fern up and walked the one block home, leaving milk and cereal and pounds of sliced deli meats on the belt to be put away by someone else. What did they even do with meat that had been sliced for someone but not bought? She didn’t go back for a while—weeks—and when she did, nobody said a word.

  Then there was the time Levi had to go to the bathroom so bad. He was about four, and they could not have made it home. The store had a strict no-bathroom policy, but Tabitha carried Levi in and begged. She was near tears that time, so worried he would have an accident and be afraid to leave the house without a diaper in the future. And they let her, they led her right through the employee-only door to the bathroom, smiling, happy to help. She had seen other desperate people, adults, beg to use the bathroom, and they always said no. They had always been especially nice to her.

  Now she stood over the bananas. They offered two choices—organic and not organic. Three months ago, she would have picked the organic, not giving the higher price a second thought. But she knew she couldn’t buy bananas and a tomato, and at this point, dinner was the priority. She moved to the tomato bin. She was crying hard now. It was almost impossible to remain quiet, and even more challenging to see. She was trying to act normal. Anyone could be here. She leaned over the tomatoes, hiding her face. They all looked pink. And they were almost two dollars a pound. She chose a tiny red one at the bottom, maybe leftover from a better crop. She took a deep breath and turned. Marlon was standing there.

  “Are you okay?” he asked. “You seem upset.”

  “I’m okay,” she tried to say, but it didn’t come out that way. It came out all slobbery and hiccuppy.

  “Come with me,” he said.

  She didn’t even ask where. She followed him to the back aisle and across the store. They went through the same door she used when she took Levi to the off-limits bathroom. Then they went through one more door into a tiny, but very nice room. She assumed it was the employee lounge.

  “Do you want to sit?” Marlon asked, grabbing a cup from the watercooler and filling it up. He handed it to her.

  “Thanks,” she said, but she continued to stand.

  “I’ve seen it all,” he said matter-of-factly. “I’ve seen fights. I’ve seen mothers curse at their kids. I’ve seen kids curse at their mothers. I had one customer who came in after being in jail for nine years. He said he was wrongly accused. He finally got out on new DNA evidence and came right here to get a Tastykake. I’ve seen it all.”

  “Yeah, well, my husband disappeared and left me in my really fancy apartment with my two kids but no money, no word, no return date. I don’t know what’s going on with our cell-phone payments, or our health insurance, or my children’s mental health. Fern hasn’t been feeling well, and I’ve been avoiding taking he
r to the doctor. Oh, and I don’t want anyone to know, so I’m pretending everything is fine.”

  She felt such relief after she said it that she had to sit down.

  “Please, don’t tell anyone,” she said. “I don’t know what came over me just then.”

  “Your secret is safe with me,” Marlon said.

  “I should go,” she said. “I’m just going to get this tomato.”

  “Okay, I’ll check you out. I just want to show you something in the cheese section.”

  She followed him back out, and they turned right and walked past the milk and yogurt to the cheese. He scanned the shelf for a minute and pulled out a big hunk of cheddar.

  “This is good with tomatoes,” he said.

  “But I can’t,” she said.

  “Come on, I’ll check you out,” he said.

  She followed him back to his lane. She saw he’d put a tented note on the belt saying he would be back in ten minutes. She was touched by that. She watched as he weighed the tomato.

  “Thirty-five cents,” he said. “The cheddar is on me.”

  “No, that’s too much,” she said. “I can’t let you pay for that. Please, just charge me.”

  “Employees get one free item a week. That’s my item for the week. Come back next week, after Thursday, and I can give you an Entenmann’s marble pound cake.”

  “Oh, wow,” she said, afraid to talk too much because she could feel the tears building again. “Thank you.”

  “My pleasure.”

  She spent the short way home thinking of what she could do to repay him. Everything she thought of involved money, so she eventually gave up. As soon as she got inside what she thought was an empty apartment, she pulled out the small notebook and added the basil, then the cheese, and wrote MARLON in all caps at the top of the page.

  “Hello?” she called out for good measure. It was all quiet, but it didn’t feel like she was alone.

  Tabitha was already dreaming about the toasted-cheese and tomato sandwich they’d have for dinner, and she was eager for everyone to get home. She walked through the apartment, coming last to Levi’s closed door. It was almost always open when he wasn’t in it.

  “Monkey?” she called.

  She thought she heard a response, but it was so quiet she wasn’t sure.

  “Are you in there?”

  “I said, ‘Yes.’”

  “Oh, I didn’t know you were back from Butch’s,” she said. “Come out. I have a good dinner planned.”

  “I’m not hungry,” he said.

  “Can I come in?”

  “No.”

  “Okay, suit yourself,” she said before walking away.

  Tabitha decided that he’d come out when he smelled the cheese. She took out her phone and called Sarina’s mother. She was happy to have all this time to herself, but this was getting ridiculous. She let it ring, but it went to voicemail. So she headed into the kitchen and took her time cutting the bread and slicing the cheese and tomato. The relief she felt after talking to Marlon was slowly dissipating. What was she doing, letting the kids be on their own so much?

  The front door swung open, and Tabitha was startled. There was no reason to call up from downstairs, Fern was a resident here of course, but for some reason she expected some warning. Tabitha walked to the foyer with a big smile on her face, ready to greet Sarina’s mother or both of her parents, but it was just Fern.

  “Hey, Fernie Bernie, how was it?” she asked, walking over to her and kissing the top of her head. She smelled like chlorine.

  “It was good,” she said sweetly. “Thank you for letting me go.”

  “They didn’t walk you in?”

  “No, but they watched me from the car,” she said, like that was more than enough.

  “Okay,” Tabitha said, feeling somewhat out of control, like she was leaving too many details to chance. “I’m making cheddar-and-tomato sandwiches on good bread for dinner. They’ll be ready soon.”

  “No thank you,” Fern said. “There was a lot of food at the water park.”

  “Suit yourself,” she said again, but she said it a little nicer to Fern than she did to Levi.

  “I’m going to go watch TV,” Fern said.

  “Okay, sweetie. I’ll be in soon.”

  “Mama?” Fern asked.

  “Yes, sweetie?”

  She hesitated for a few seconds, looking all around the kitchen. “Forget it,” she finally said.

  “What is it, Fern?” Tabitha pressed.

  “Nothing,” Fern said, getting impatient. “Just nothing.”

  “Well it seemed like you were going to ask something.”

  Fern took a deep breath. “You bug me,” she said, before walking toward the living room.

  Tabitha watched her stomp through the kitchen, wondering if that was what Fern was going to say in the first place, or if she bugged her because she wouldn’t leave her alone. She wasn’t sure which would be better—neither really. She wanted to call her back and ask, but decided to let her be.

  She stood at the counter thinking she didn’t much want a sandwich either right now. That lunch with Rachel was more than she’d had at a single meal in a long time. She wrapped everything up, deciding it would make a great breakfast or lunch tomorrow. Before joining Fern in front of the television, she went into her bedroom and pulled the list out of the drawer. She scanned the items to see if she’d come across any answers. She always hoped she’d see something in a different way. But it all looked the same: a list of mysteries, partly, she knew, because she had been leaving out this next item. She had not wanted to admit it, but it was time, she knew that. It was time to start dealing with it. She grabbed a pen and added item number nine—Stuart’s marriage that never was. She looked at it for a minute. That wasn’t exactly right. She took a deep breath and crossed it out with her pen. It was a big mess, but that seemed appropriate, given the situation. She tried again, this time writing one simple word next to the item number, one name—Abigail.

  At the way bottom of the paper she wrote in all caps HAPPILY EVER AFTER, then next to it she wrote NOT in parenthesis. As she and Stuart walked back down the aisle after they were married, Stuart put his arm around her and leaned in close. He said, “And they lived happily ever after,” into her ear. She smiled, she liked that, but when she turned to look at him, she could see something in his eyes. She had the feeling he was trying to convince himself. Did that count as a clue? She decided it did, it all counted, and wrote item number ten next to it. She folded the paper back up and went to sit with Fern, who was watching an old DVD. But she couldn’t get comfortable. She kept shifting positions. Fern was still in her bathing suit with shorts over the top, even though it felt cold in the apartment.

  “I’ll be right back,” Tabitha said, but she might as well have been talking to the wall, Fern was so absorbed by the show. She put a throw blanket over her, hoping that would rouse her, but Fern just let it settle with no reaction.

  Tabitha went back to her bedroom and pulled out the list again. She was so tired of her lists. The other one, the one with the stolen items, was necessary. But this one was doing her no good. First she circled the ninth item—Abigail. It was the most important clue here, it was what had brought them to this place. It was the one she should focus on, the one she had been focusing on at first with Internet searches and random phone calls and no luck; she couldn’t get any traction at all. She should try harder, keep looking. She didn’t need the list to do it; the list was distracting her. She read through it one more time, then she ripped it up into tiny pieces, took the handful to the toilet, and flushed, glad that if this caused a backup she could just call the maintenance person. At least that wasn’t something she had to worry about all by herself.

  She let everyone sleep late the next morning, and she truly believed she rested better without that list next to her. Maybe it was less about getting rid of the list and more about beginning to acknowledge the actual problem, but either way it felt like the f
irst step in moving forward. She sat up in bed and pulled a book off the top of her pile. She hadn’t read a book for pleasure in a long time. She was just about to open it when her cell phone rang. She looked at the display—it was Sarina’s mother.

  “Kaye, hi, I was going to call you this morning,” Tabitha lied. “I want to thank you so much for yesterday. Fern had such a good time.”

  There was silence on the other end, and Tabitha thought maybe they’d been disconnected. She pulled the phone away from her ear to check, but saw the seconds were ticking away.

  “Kaye?” she said into the phone.

  “I’m here,” she answered, but there was something cold about her usually warm voice. Didn’t Kaye just call her? Tabitha got a weird feeling in her stomach.

  “Is everything okay?” Tabitha asked.

  “I was going to ask you the same question,” Kaye said. “Did Fern say she had fun yesterday?”

  “She did,” Tabitha said, trying to remember if she actually said she had fun. She didn’t say she didn’t have fun. What wasn’t to like about a water park? “It sounded like a good day. She said there was a lot of food.” Suddenly Tabitha remembered Fern’s tiny outburst after she got home. Had she missed something?

  “Well, yeah, there was that,” Kaye said slowly, drawing out the words. “But, Tabitha, I’m concerned about Fern, and I’m also concerned about you.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Fern was unable to participate yesterday. She was in a lot of pain.”

  Kaye let the words sit there.

  Tabitha could play dumb. She could ask, What pain? But she knew. “Do you mean her knee? And what do you mean she was unable to participate? She was with you all day. Why didn’t you call me?”