Before It Stains

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Before It Stains Page 8

by R. E. Bradshaw


  “Mo betrayed me. She betrayed Colton. Am I just supposed to pretend it didn’t happen? It has to cost her something. It’s cost me everything. Every dream I ever had just vanished, poof, it’s gone.” Stephanie’s tears flowed freely now. “I’ll never forget this. I’ll never forget how it feels to have your whole world shattered. I can’t forgive her, Randy. I just can’t.”

  He reached out and smoothed the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs, caressing her face.

  “Steph, your heart is broken. You can’t see beyond that right now, but there will come a day when you can. Don’t say you can’t forgive her, you can, and you will. Whether it’s now, ten, or even twenty years down the road, one day you’ll let it go. You can’t hold that kind of pain forever. It’s all in the timing, sweetheart.”

  “Her timing sucks.”

  Randy laughed. “There’s my girl. There’s still some fight left in you. That’s a good sign.”

  “I was good to her. I gave her everything I had to give and this is the thanks I get.”

  “She gave you something too, Steph, don’t forget that. All you ever wanted was a family. Mo made sure that wish came true for you.” Randy scooted closer and let Stephanie lean against him. He put an arm around her shoulder. “Remember how we made you stay at your mother’s overnight, while Mo and I painted the nursery in that first little house? It was so small there was nowhere you could get away from the fumes.”

  “Yes, I remember. I loved that nursery.”

  “It was all Mo. She’d listened to you talk about what your fantasy nursery would look like. She tore through magazines, cutting out pictures. She saved them in a shoebox. She showed it to me. Mo knew you two didn’t have the money for all the things you wanted, but she saved for that crib without you knowing.”

  Stephanie smiled at the memory of walking into the nursery for the first time, seeing the exact crib she coveted and knew they couldn’t afford. Her parents would have bought it for her, but for some reason Stephanie and Mo had it in their heads they were going to do this on their own. They were comfortable, but an extravagance like that crib was out of reach. It was one of the sweetest gifts Mo gave her. Stephanie hadn’t thought of it in years.

  Randy chuckled. “Mo and I got pretty drunk that night. She told me things I’ve never told you, because it wasn’t mine to tell.”

  Stephanie lifted her chin so she could see Randy’s face and asked, “Like what?”

  “Well, you know Mo knew she was a lesbian when she came out of the womb, unlike some of us later bloomers. She knew who she was and what she wanted out of life, when the rest of us were trying to figure it out. Mo was headed to Hollywood to make movies and screw as many beautiful women as possible. She told me being a wife and mother was not in her game plan.”

  Stephanie’s mouth opened to speak, but Randy stopped her.

  “Just listen.”

  He handed her his wine glass. Stephanie took a sip involuntarily, while he continued.

  “That all changed when she met you. Mo said she never told you she had not planned on a baby, because when you asked, she couldn’t tell you no. She made up her mind to stay in school and not take an offer in LA, because she couldn’t take you with her. You would have had to quit your job. Her position would not have supported you both, let alone a baby. She didn’t want you working in a retail store on some corner until that MBA got you a job, while she was learning how to edit for pennies. It wasn’t a great job, but it was the break she had waited for. It was Mo’s answer to a lifetime of hoping for a career in the movie business and she gave it up for you.”

  Shocked was an understatement. Stephanie sat up on the edge of the couch, turning to face Randy. “Mo never told me about a job offer.”

  “She never wanted you to know. Mo said you would have forced her to take it, because you always put her first. She wanted you to have your dream, Steph. So, she painted the nursery and fell in love with that kid the moment she laid eyes on him. I reminded her of our conversation on your wedding day. I asked if she had any regrets. I’ll never forget the way her face lit up. Looking at you across the room dancing with Colt, she said, ‘Not one regret. Look at them. They’re all I could have hoped for.’ She loves you, Stephanie, probably more than you will ever know.”

  “Then why did she do it? Why did she sleep with her?”

  “I believe the circumstances are a bit shady on that issue,” Randy said, leaning up to fill the wine glass they were now sharing.

  Stephanie was confused. “How do you know all that if you only talked to my mother?”

  “You asked me if Mo called me, not if I called her.”

  “That’s splittin’ hairs,” Stephanie complained.

  “I split hairs for a living. I tell my clients, answer the question you’re asked, not the one they meant to ask you.”

  Stephanie took his wine glass and gulped this time. Alcohol might just be necessary to get through this. She handed Randy the glass back, saying, “Well, is there some kind of confidentiality in place here, or can you tell me what she said?”

  “Mo gave me permission to answer any of your questions; of course, this was after I got through berating her for being so fucking stupid. How much do you know?”

  “Not much,” Stephanie answered. “Mo said it happened once, in LA, and she doesn’t remember much of it. I’m not sure I believe that.”

  “I do. In my line of business, it pays to be able to detect a lie. I honestly think she blacked out for a while and when she woke up she found herself in a very compromising position.”

  Stephanie reacted angrily. “It’s like I told Mo, she crossed the line way before then, or she never would have been in that situation. If she had made it clear she wasn’t interested, Michaela wouldn’t have gone after her.”

  “Oh my dear,” Randy said, chuckling, “how naïve you are. Unavailable is much more attractive to her kind. They traveled all over the country for months. Why do you think it took a drunken night to get Mo in bed? That home-wrecker seized the opportunity to, if nothing else, make Mo think she did something.”

  Stephanie smirked. “I hate to break it to you, Randy, but there’s going to be evidence left behind if they had sex. Mo knows if parts of her were places they shouldn’t have been.”

  Randy wrinkled up his nose. “Eww.”

  Stephanie laughed. “I could say the same about swallowing.”

  Randy waved a hand. “To each his own, I say. Anyway, one night of drunken debauchery does not a cheater make, especially one who is so destroyed by her behavior. Honey, Mo fell in the trap, the trap of being up-and-coming. It happens all the time. Perfectly levelheaded people lose their balance when success rocks their world. The flirting was exciting. Having someone chase after you can be exhilarating. Mo lost sight of some boundaries, she got too close to the flame, and she got burned.”

  Stephanie was incensed. She sat up and glared at Randy. “You’re not making excuses for her, are you? I don’t care how hard someone came after me. I would never cross that line. I would never cheat on her.”

  “No? You’ve never been intrigued by someone since you met Mo?”

  Stephanie quieted and sat back hard against the couch. She knew what was coming.

  “I seem to recall a certain conversation we had about a little blonde in your Mommy Dearest group. Mo was gone for a month on a shoot in the mountains, you had a toddler in tow, and you were lonely. It didn’t take much to get your heart thumping fast.”

  “Nothing happened.”

  Randy pointed a finger at Stephanie. “Nothing happened. That’s an interesting thing for you to say. So, you’re little infatuation wasn’t the same as what Mo did? You said Mo crossed a line way before that night in LA. Is her line somehow different than the one you drew for yourself?”

  Stephanie sulked. “That happened a long time ago.”

  “It did happen, though. You had a moment of weakness. It happens to everyone. We’re human. When someone feeds our egos, the lines can ge
t blurred.”

  “But Mo crossed that boundary, Randy. I didn’t.”

  “She knew she was in trouble. Did she not beg you to go on that LA trip with her, in June?”

  “Yes, but Colt was playing ball that weekend. One of us had to be here.”

  “Stephanie, he’s a big boy. Your missing one or two games would not have bothered him. He has a huge support system. We would all have been at the games. You could have gone with her. You say you put Mo’s needs above your own, but that’s not true, is it? You put what you think are Colt’s needs above everything, even Mo.”

  “That’s as it should be, Randy.”

  “Not when the relationship that frames his world is in trouble. You pride yourself in taking care of your family, but you were so busy trying to make everything perfect, you couldn’t see Mo was drowning.”

  “Why didn’t she just tell me what was going on? I think I could have handled it better than this.”

  Randy tilted his head to one side and said, “How was she supposed to come down off that pedestal you put her on and admit she was human?”

  Stephanie sat in silence. She had no earthly idea what to say. Randy waited for an answer. Finally, her voice almost a whisper, she said, “I didn’t expect to be blamed for this, not by you.”

  “There’s no blame, only truth. There’s no room for pride in this situation. You each have your own cross to bear here. You’ve sheltered and coddled Mo like a child. She’s a grown woman. Treat her like one. Don’t forget that you’re her lover, not her mother. Mo let her recent successes go to her head. I think she’s come back to earth, now. In fact, I’m pretty sure she’s getting her act together as we speak. She’s not going to lose you, Steph.”

  “Don’t I get some say in this?” Stephanie asked. “What makes you think I’m ready to let her walk back in here, like nothing ever happened?”

  Randy put up his hands in surrender. “I am not suggesting that at all. What I do recommend is, if you decide it’s worth a try to reconcile, you and Mo sit down and re-evaluate your needs and wants. From what I see, strictly as an observer, you are both satisfied with the goals you set for each other seventeen years ago. That’s a long time. You’re older now. Your experiences have changed you. Look at you, Steph. You used to be a wild child. You could pass for a Republican housewife.”

  Stephanie was taking a sip of wine when Randy made the Republican crack. She nearly spit in the glass. “Oh, now that’s low.”

  Randy didn’t try to soothe her. “A very attractive housewife, but conservative. You’ve got the hair, the clothes, the house in the burbs.”

  “What’s wrong with my hair?”

  “Nothing, if you’re Hilary Clinton’s age and, by the way, Laura Bush wants her wardrobe back.”

  Stephanie popped Randy on the arm. “Oh, now you’re just being mean.”

  “I’m serious, Steph.”

  “I have you know I wore a sexy red dress Saturday night.”

  “I bet I know which one. It’s your ‘fuck me’ dress. Only you’ve been saying it with the same ensemble for several years. You can afford an occasional new ‘have your way with me’ outfit. You’ve stayed in shape. You have a nice body. Show it off. When was the last time you whipped out the garters and bustier?”

  Stephanie tried to recall the last time she wore any sexy lingerie. She was currently wearing old cotton underwear and a sports bra.

  Randy interrupted her thoughts. “If it takes that long to remember, it’s been way too long.”

  Stephanie put the wine glass on the coffee table and dropped her head in her hands.

  Randy rubbed her back in gentle circles. “Honey, I know this is a lot to take in. If you’ll let me, I’ll help you. The first thing you need to do is go to work in the morning and make arrangements for the rest of the week off. You have vacation time built up, because you never take any.”

  He pulled her up, turned her head toward him, and said, “It’s time for a makeover and a fresh start. You game?”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  Randy smiled. “Nope.”

  #

  After Randy left, Stephanie locked up, turned off the lights, and took her wearied body up the stairs. She stopped at Colt’s partially opened bedroom door. He didn’t like to sleep with it shut, probably because Stephanie never shut his door or theirs. He went through a stage where they would find him in their bed every morning. Stephanie thought that was when she stopped wearing sexy things to bed, and sleeping naked ended long before that. Colt had complained, at five-years-old, it wasn’t fair that they slept together and he had to sleep alone. That was a tough one to explain. He finally got it and quit sneaking in, and through it all, Stephanie insisted that they could not shut their door. She needed to be able to hear him. Mo said that’s what the baby monitor was for, but Stephanie wouldn’t budge.

  She peeked in. He was asleep with his iPod blaring loudly enough for her to hear. She tiptoed into his room, removed the ear-buds, and turned off the iPod on the nightstand. She ran her fingers in his curls and kissed him lightly on the forehead. He didn’t stir, sleeping peacefully through her intrusion. Stephanie quietly left the room and started across the hall.

  Her hand was on the doorknob when Stephanie remembered her proclamation never to sleep in the master bedroom again. She could take the bed in the guest room downstairs, but she was too tired to walk all that way. Besides, her clothes were up here, her toiletries. It was just too much to deal with right now. She opened the door and the scent of Mo filled her head, a familiar scent that always said home. She stepped into the room just as the phone rang by the bed. It was eleven-thirty.

  “Hello.”

  “I hope I didn’t wake you,” Mo said.

  “No, I was just going to bed.”

  “It’s been a long day, hasn’t it?”

  “Yes, it has. Randy just left. I’ve talked to PJ, my mom, and now you. I am about talked out. I just want to sleep.”

  “I just called to say good night. I won’t keep you.”

  “Good night, Mo. I love you.” It was pure habit, something she said all the time. It just came out and she couldn’t take it back.

  “I love you, too. Sweet dreams.”

  Stephanie hung up. She slipped out of her clothes and dropped them on the floor, not bothering with the hamper. She grabbed the first old tee shirt she could find and crawled beneath the sheets. Stephanie thought she would have trouble sleeping, but she was bone tired and drained of emotion. Stephanie closed her eyes, sinking into the down mattress top. Without looking, she reached for Mo’s pillow and pulled it tight against her. Stephanie caught a whiff of the perfume from Saturday night, the one that wasn’t hers. She tossed the pillow across the room.

  “Damn you, Mo, why didn’t you just talk to me?”

  The well of tears, she thought had dried up, began to fall. Stephanie buried her face in her pillow and cried herself to sleep.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Stephanie didn’t feel like cooking when she awoke the next morning, but she had to feed Colt. She let him drive, which kept her attention away from her worries. He had his learner’s permit a few months and, after the initial white knuckled rides, settled in to be a good driver. Still, Stephanie was on alert in the heavy morning traffic.

  After arriving at the restaurant, Stephanie congratulated Colt. “Good job. I only flinched once.”

  They ate a quiet breakfast. Luckily Colt was like Mo, not much of a talker in the mornings, and he was starving as usual. She couldn’t seem to feed him enough. He filled several plates at the buffet and consumed more food than Stephanie thought humanly possible, while she read the paper. Neither seemed to need nor want to discuss the family crisis.

  She dropped him at Trevor’s house. Trevor’s home was ball team central. His mother, Marlene, relished the position as team Mom. Her life revolved around her five sons’ activities. Stephanie used to envy her, even tried to emulate Marlene’s efficiency in running her family’s grueling sc
hedule. Today, when she hugged Marlene at the door, Stephanie looked into another broken woman’s eyes and decided it was true; it takes one to know one.

  The drive into work was uneventful. Stephanie’s mind raced with what she needed to accomplish before leaving the office today. Twenty-six people worked at Cleggland Property Management in the tall white-granite building on West Main Street. Stephanie barely spoke to anyone, simply offering a smile or a wave, as she ambled down the hall to her corner office. She did tell her assistant, Amber, to hold her calls. When Amber tried to follow her into the office, Stephanie waved her off.

  “I just need a few minutes. I’ll call you when I’m ready,” she said, and closed the door.

  Amber Hughes had been with Stephanie for two years. She was competent, and always at work, even if her hair color changed frequently. Today, it was magenta and blond, but it looked great. Amber did what was asked of her competently. That was all Stephanie cared about. Stephanie fetched her own coffee, typed her own correspondence, and generally did many of the things another boss would have expected of an office assistant. Stephanie didn’t ask people to do things she was capable of doing. Like most of Stephanie’s employees, Amber was happy with her job. Stephanie ran the business like she ran her home, always concerned that everyone’s needs were being met.

  She learned a valuable business lesson from her mentor, Royce Cleggland, the man who sold her controlling interest in the business when he retired eight years ago. He hired the best, paid them well, and treated them with dignity. Mr. Cleggland had taken a special interest in Stephanie when she was a part-time employee, working her way through business school. He taught her the business, tutored her through the real estate exams, and attended her wedding to Mo. He and his wife moved to Florida. Stephanie missed him.

  Stephanie’s status as managing partner afforded her the most prestigious office in the building. After taking care of her calendar and answering emails, she sat at her large oak desk, gazing out the windows, overlooking downtown Durham. Life below her went on, as if nothing had changed. Once her head had cleared somewhat, she pushed a button on the office phone.

 

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