Pieces of it All

by Tracy Krimmer

  "Mom!" Beth ran to give her a hug, working her way around the cast. "Why weren't you at book club?"

  Her parents looked at each other. "I think we have a lot to talk about," her mom said.

  Chapter Twenty One

  If an award existed for resisting the urge to punch someone out, Harvey surely would have been the winner. Every ounce of his being wanted to slam his fist into his father's face. Maggie always filled his conscience, though, reminding him it wasn't worth it. She repeatedly found a way into his head, getting him to do the right thing. Like when the short, stupid bald fuck named Tim bumped into him outside the cafeteria, spilling Harvey's lunch onto the floor. He had Tim by the throat all of five seconds before Maggie talked him down. Now, sitting in front of him, eight ounces of Jack and Coke seduced him. It glistened in the glass, taunting him like the mistress she was. Maggie warned him going to live with his father wasn't the best idea, and urged him to find a rental property on his own or place an ad for a reliable roommate. It's only temporary, he told her. He truly meant those words. A short time; his dad would barely know he came back. Yeah, right. The job started him on his way to escaping, but he didn't expect things to go awry so quickly. Even though eight months had passed, it was as if a day hadn't gone by. They still were at each other's throats like roosters in a cock fight. Two stubborn animals, neither willing to budge.

  Like father, like son, here Harvey sat at the bar, alcohol staring back at him. No matter how much he moved forward, the drink kept a piece of him. After he denied himself the satisfaction of popping his father in the face after he forced Beth out, only this remained. The glass started to rattle as he lifted it up. God, what Beth must think of him. He put the glass back down, and picked it up again. Just drink it his former self said. Just drink the mother fucking thing. You'll love it. You'll forget everything that happened. He shook his head. No, no, no. He fought with himself, reminding himself how far he'd come. How far was it really, though, if he sat inside a bar, a drink in front of him? Eight months of hard work ready to be tossed down the hatch.

  He lifted his cell phone, which had been squeezed into his other hand, and dialed the number. He didn't even have to think about it. His fingers glided across the screen, pressing the long distance number. A soft voice answered.

  "Hi, Maggie." He whispered. "I need you." He forced the words out of his mouth. Need. What a silly concept. Asking someone to give you something selflessly out of the kindness of their heart. Food, a lift to the store, a kick in the balls when your past haunted you from a piece of glassware.

  "Harvey. Where are you? You're in a bar, aren't you?"

  He pressed the phone to his ear, ashamed to tell her. He set his elbow on the table, grabbing his hair in his hand. "Yes."

  "Harvey, sweetie. What are you doing at a bar? What happened?"

  This was the part where Maggie would sit down next to him and put her hand on his shoulder, her sympathetic touch bringing comfort to his painful present. A loving gesture would bring purpose to Harvey, self-worth he never had in his life. Her stick straight blond hair that smelled like coconut would graze his neck as she pulled him close and embraced him. He hadn't felt the need to call her since he left, but he was broken.

  "Oh, that's horrible," Maggie said after Harvey recounted the story to her, leaving out the dirty details with Beth. "Drinking isn't the answer. I don't have to tell you that. Consuming that beverage only does one thing - get you drunk, which results in consequences you don't want, Harvey. You'll start over on Day One. You'll be upset with yourself in the morning. You'll possibly say or do things you'll regret. Please don't let alcohol define who you are. Find this Beth girl and talk to her. Try to get a place of your own, but have the conversation with your father. Find out about your mom."

  A cry stifled in his throat. He couldn't. The discussion never went anywhere. Maggie encouraged him from the beginning of his rehab to get information on his mom. They tried searching in the library, but couldn't find a record of her existence. He didn't even know her first name! Mrs. Etheridge had to be out there somewhere, possibly, hopefully looking for him. His mom had to be the opposite of everything his father claimed - a cocaine addict turned prostitute who left him with a pile of bills and a son he didn't want in the first place. The only truth in the story was his father didn't want him. No one deserved the life Harvey had growing up. No one.

  He wept into the phone. Maggie would sit and listen. He loved that about her. Nothing came before him. When he needed something, Maggie put him first, listening and loving and with caring words. He looked at the wound on his hand. He couldn't erase what happened. The scar would always remind him.

  "Hey Harvey, you stupid bastard, bring me a fucking beer, would ya?" his father yelled out to him from the living room while Harvey sat at the table doing his homework.

  "In a minute. Just let me finish the problem I'm working on."

  He stormed into the kitchen. "What the hell did you say to me boy? Are you mouthing off to me?"

  Harvey dropped his pencil. "No, I just wanted to finish this problem."

  His father marched over to the refrigerator, yanked it open, grabbed a beer, opened it up and took a swig. He proceeded to spit it out. "First of all, this shit's old. Second, was that fucking hard? Now I missed part of my damn show you fucking prick!"

  Harvey clenched his jaw, not sure if he was fighting back tears or anger. He contemplated running out of the house like a baby, or taking in all his father had to give him. He never knew what the right decision would be.

  "Sorry." He stated.

  "I don't fucking think so, Harvey. That didn't sound like you're sorry to me." He tossed his beer can into the sink, which exploded all over the sink and the cabinets surrounding it.

  "Look what you made me do! Had you gotten off your ass and gotten me the beer like I asked, this never would have happened!" He stared at Harvey. "Fuck you. I'm getting the fuck out of here and going down to the bar." He grabbed Harvey's pencil off the table, lifted up his arm, and slammed it down into Harvey's hand, piercing his skin. Harvey jumped back, but held back the excruciating pain he was in. "This shit better be cleaned up when I get home."

  He marched out of the house, leaving the beer stained kitchen, and Harvey's hand bleeding at the table.

  "You're right, Maggie." He slid the glass away from him. "You're absolutely right."

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Uncomfortable didn't even begin to describe the ride home from the hospital. The tension between Beth's parents filled the car like a deadly gas. Everyone struggled with the same question, but no one wanted to ask. As the street lights lit up her mom's face, Beth saw she had been crying. Her dad focused on the road, fiddling with the radio until he shut it off in frustration. "Why weren't you at your book club?"

  Beth held her breath as she and her dad waited for a response. She sat kitty corner from her mom, who stroked her cast like a sick puppy. "I don't belong to one."

  "You what?" Her dad shouted. "You lied to me? How long?" His voice quieted, anger still apparent.

  "I went back to school." She wasn't about to admit to lying, and she probably didn't consider it as lying anyway. She attended without him knowing, omitting information like Beth did earlier in the week.

  He cleared his throat. "I kind of assumed. Answer my question."

  Her mom sucked her lips until it turned into a bite. Lip biting only meant one thing - the next sentence wasn't going to make Beth's dad happy. "A year."

  "A year?!" A car honked at him as he swerved into the next lane. "Screw you!" He shouted at the driver, flipping up his middle finger.

  "Michael, calm down, please."

  "You want me to calm down? For a year you kept this hidden? Why? Why did you lie to me? And why on Earth do you think you need to go to school?"

  "Must we discuss this in front of Beth? This conversation can wait until later."

  "Yeah, Dad. Mom's been through a lot." Beth couldn't recall her parents arguing before - at lea
st not in front of her. She witnessed a few disagreements, but those were short, no one raised their voice, and they always ended with a hug. This wasn't going to end the same way. She hadn't heard her dad's voice like this before. The day had been hard enough to add this to her overcrowded plate of emotion.

  He slowed for a stop sign. "We can talk about this now. Why are you going to school?"

  The lip biting went from a simple bite to a gnaw. Confrontation wasn't one of the things her mom excelled at. Even with this heated exchange, her voice remained soft.

  "Out with it," her dad demanded.

  "I really would rather discuss this at home. We're less than ten minutes away-"

  "You can tell me now." He slammed his hands on the wheel, and Beth jumped. "Why?" She hugged herself, rubbing her arms in discomfort. The streetlights disappeared as they got closer to home, the wooded areas separated by farm fields lost in the darkness.

  She rested her right arm on the window sill. "Beth's going off to school in the fall. I wanted to do something for me. I could get a job."

  "So you lied to me?"

  After an awkward minute, she turned her head away from the window and looked at Beth's dad. "I knew you wouldn't agree to it. I've wanted to do this for years and every time I drop hints, you remind me you make enough money for the both of us and I don't need to work."

  "It's true."

  "It doesn't matter if it's true, Michael. I want to work. I've wanted to work. I love being a mom, believe me, I do, but when do I get to do something for me? When do I become Sharon and not just mom?" She glanced back at Beth. "Sorry, honey. I love you. I need another ... identity. For eighteen years I've been wife and mom." She put her attention back to Beth's dad. "I want to be Sharon."

  "You are Sharon."

  "No. I'm not." Her voice cracked. "I'm your wife and Beth's mom."

  What could he say to such a bold statement that spoke worlds of truth? Beth didn't remember a day when her mom worked outside the household. She loved being a homemaker, or at least Beth thought she did. She dabbled in hobbies, volunteered at different charity functions and events, but she never went to a job and brought home a paycheck. Any cash she had came in the form of an allowance her dad handed her mom weekly. Every Saturday morning an envelope with "Sharon" written on it with a few twenty dollar bills inside appeared on the kitchen table.

  "So, if you continued on in school, what exactly would it be for?" Beth's eyes widened at the prospect of her dad agreeing to this. Her ears had to be playing tricks on her.

  Her mom perked up. "Horticulture."

  "Horti - what now?" He asked.

  "In a nutshell, studying plants. I've only got another year to go. I'll earn my Associates Degree by the time Beth finishes her first year of college."

  "How did you manage that with one class a week, Mom?" Beth's degree was going to take years, and that was with a full-time schedule.

  They pulled into the driveway. "It hasn't been only one. I take online courses, too."

  Her dad shut off the car. "Wait a minute. How are you paying for all of this? I haven't seen any bills or payments on this."

  Beth kept her hand on the door handle, wanting to sprint from the car, but the anticipation of her mom's answer held her hostage. "My parents."

  "You took money from your parents? You know my stance on that."

  "I never went to college. They wanted to help. If it makes you feel better, I insisted we pay them back."

  "You bet we will." He shook his head, looking back and forth between Beth and her mom. Beth sat on her hands, anxiously awaiting his next move, expecting an explosion. After a long and emotionally draining day, was she witnessing the beginning of the end of her parent's relationship? She was going to join the crowd of kids with divorced parents, all because her dad couldn't accept her mom's desire to better herself. She took a deep breath as he smiled and spoke again. "On your graduation day."

  No one expected a frantic knock on the door at nine-thirty at night. Beth and her parents settled on the couch, popcorn popped, starting to watch Oz: The Great and Powerful, her mom's choice, when the heavy beating on the door and multiple rings of the bell startled them.

  Beth's dad checked who was making the ruckus, and within moments Sue marched into the room beside him. "You." She pointed her finger at Beth. "Where's that boyfriend of yours? Where is he?"

  "Probably at home." She sat the popcorn bowl down on the coffee table. "Why? Is everything okay?"

  Sue tore off her glasses, her cheeks a color of red Beth had never seen before. Heavy, angry panting accented her pursed lips. "No, everything is not okay. I got a call from Dr. Naise and Leslie today. Both said you and that boy stole from my clients." Beth's mouth dropped open. "I hope to hell you aren't, Beth."

  Her dad stared at her, disappointment in his eyes. "No." Beth said. "I'm not." Stealing? His fingertips had touched her cheek, his lips had fondled hers. He took her virginity - stole! - hours before. She pushed the bile back down to her stomach. "Are you sure?" It couldn't be true.

  Sue pressed her fingertips against her cheeks. "Of course I am, Beth. I don't think screaming clients would be calling me if nothing was really missing." She put her hands on her hips. "I should say ex-clients because they won't be using my services anymore."

  "I ... I can't believe he would steal." Did she? No matter how minimal, he had a criminal past. Could she be absolutely certain he wasn't a thief and defend him?

  "Well, believe it." Sue said. "Where does this guy live?"

  Beth's mom cut in. "He's just a few houses down."

  Sue stopped her yelling momentarily. "What happened to you, Sharon? When did you get that cast?"

  "Tonight. We'll talk about it later. Harvey lives in the brown house with the brick a few doors down, but I wouldn't go now. It's late."

  Beth thought of Harvey's father. Harvey reacted so quickly to get her out of the house when he came home. Sue pounding on his door and throwing accusations at him wasn't going to equate to a good situation, especially if his dad was there. "I'll talk to him." Beth volunteered as she threw her arm in the air.

  "What the hell is on your finger?" Her father froze, his eyes on her hand.

  She touched the bottom of the band with her thumb. Beth hadn't tried to hide the ring. It started to feel like a natural part of her finger, and she never thought to keep it hidden.

  "What in the world are you wearing?" he repeated. "Don't you even tell me that's what I think it is." He grabbed her hand.

  "It's not an engagement ring, Dad." She pulled away. This would be hard to explain without him losing his cool.

  "Well, I'm certainly glad to hear that. You still didn't answer me." His cheeks puffed up.

  Didn't she? He only asked her to clarify Harvey hadn't proposed. "Don't worry, Dad. It's nothing. Harvey wanted to show me he cares about me."

  "He couldn't make you a mix tape?"

  What was a mix tape? "You mean like a playlist?" He glared at her. "Sorry," she apologized.

  "You're moving way too fast with this boy. I'm not comfortable with this at all." Walking in circles around the couch, he grabbed a hold of his hair. "What is he doing giving a little girl a ring? You haven't known him long enough to be exchanging those kinds of gifts."

  "Dad, if you don't mind, it's been a long day. Let's not argue about this right now."

  "I do mind and I do want to get into it. You're barely an adult, and you're just going off to college. You don't need this kind of commitment with anybody."

  "We're not getting married. We haven't even had a conversation about marriage."

  The circling changed to pacing. "You're smarter than this Beth! Guys like him have one thing on their mind!" He tapped his finger to his temple. "I don't think I need to explain myself. I do not care for this guy." Sue cleared her throat. Her dad looked at Sue and added, "Not to mention he's a thief!"

  Beth refused to believe that. Jumping to conclusions before she spoke with him was irresponsible. She should get t
he entire story first. He didn't have a right to butt into her love life. "He didn't leave with anything from those houses."

  Sue knelt down beside Beth and took her hand, examining the ring. "Beth," she started, "he didn't take a television or a laptop or anything. He took a music box and ... " she squeezed Beth's hand. "A ring."

  Her hand fell onto her lap. "No. No. He said this belonged to his great-grandmother. It was passed down to him. He didn't steal this."

  As much as she wanted to believe her own words, she knew the chances of what Sue saying to be true was a lot more likely than the ring being an heirloom. She twirled the band around again and let out a sigh as she pulled it off and placed it in Sue's hand.

  "Thank you, Beth. I'll get this back to Dr. Naise right away." She kissed Beth's forehead. "Please tell Harvey to bring the jewelry box to me as soon as you speak with him. Leslie is not happy and I'm sure is already bad mouthing me around town."

  Without giving Sue a chance to say goodbye, Beth ran up to her bedroom and texted Harvey. We need to talk.

  Immediately her phone dinged back. Yes, we do. I'll pick you up tomorrow for lunch at the beach. A picnic.

  She responded a picnic would be wonderful. The empty space on her finger said otherwise.

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Harvey laid the blanket under a tall oak tree overlooking Lake Michigan. The peanut butter sandwiches, grapes and water didn't scream romance, but hopefully enough to impress Beth. He had to salvage anything left of the relationship, and Beth agreeing to a picnic was a step.

  The entire drive to the park, Beth clung to silence. She sat stiffly in the passenger seat of the Bonneville, and stared out the window. She accepted a peck, nothing more. Fine, he couldn't blame her. A lot of work laid ahead of him trying to win her trust back.