by Laina Turner
While I did agree with Joanna that her father owed me a little courtesy, I also wanted to take the high road and I didn’t want this divorce and Brian’s remarriage to ruin the relationship he had with his kids. They had always had a good one, even though Brian’s actions weren’t making it easy for anyone.
“Nadine told me, and yes, Nadine also told me about the pregnancy. Joanna, life’s complicated and while I might not agree with everything your father does, he’s still your father. Don’t let that relationship suffer. It’s too important and eventually you’ll regret it. Don’t base your actions with him on how you feel he treats me.”
“You don’t talk to your father. So how is this any different?” she said petulantly, and I knew her dad’s remarriage had hurt her because she wasn’t one to normally lash out. Just as I knew how something like that could actually rip apart a family. I knew from personal experience and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.
“Exactly! Which is something I don’t want to happen to you and your father. Joanna, I understand you and Jaime aren’t happy with your father right now but adults sometimes make stupid mistakes, even though we should be old enough to know better. Don’t let it interfere with the relationship you’ve spent almost twenty years building. Relationships take work, you know that, and your dad, well, he’s just making changes in his life and probably trying to figure out how to make this all work.”
“But Mom he’s choosing his new wife over us. He’s creating a new family, he doesn’t want us anymore,” Joanna said and I could hear she was starting to cry.
I closed my eyes for a moment, searching for the strength to not cry myself. As hard as this was for me, it was just as hard, if not harder for the kids, even if they weren’t little anymore. Something neither Brian nor I had really noticed. At least, I hadn’t until right this moment and I’m assuming Brian hadn’t either or he wouldn’t be acting this way. My kids seemed so strong and self-assured, I didn’t realize how much they were hurting over this and I felt guilty I hadn’t noticed. Especially since I went through the exact same thing with my dad.
“Sweetheart, don’t cry. You’re supposed to be enjoying yourself right now, you’re on vacation. I know this isn’t easy, but I love you, your dad loves you, and everything is going to be fine. You’ll see. It’s just a rough patch right now. All these things you’re feeling can be worked through. It will just take some time.”
My heart ached wishing I was with my daughter right now, and my son, so I could hold her and hug her and make the tears go away. As a parent, I wanted life to be perfect for my kids and never wanted them to hurt. Unrealistic, I know. You couldn’t go through life without hurt. That’s what made us grow as people. It didn’t, however, change the feeling of wanting to keep my kids from it like any mother would and no matter what age they were, that didn’t change.
I could hear Joanna sniffling and voices in the background which told me her friends were around. “I know, Mom. Listen, can we talk about this later?”
“Sure. Tell your brother I said hi and I love you both. Be safe.”
“Bye Mom.”
I sat the phone back down on the table, leaned back on my chair, and put my feet up on the other chair across from me. Just soaking in the sun, letting the warmth relax me, or at least attempt to.
I knew how Joanna was feeling. My father had essentially done the same thing. And at the time, it had been unbelievably painful to know that he had chosen his new family over his old one. He had eventually realized the error of his ways but by that point my sister and I had moved on and said it was too late. Which in hindsight was not the best course of action, but one neither of us were willing to rectify yet. I had learned these things couldn’t be rushed. People had to work through things in their own mind at their own pace. Though it still hurt every day. I didn’t want the same thing to happen to Joanna and Jaime. Life was too short and you only had one set of parents; family was precious and time with them limited.
I reached back for the phone, giving up the thought of relaxing right now, at least temporarily. I needed to call Brian. No matter what our differences, I knew he loved those kids and I didn’t think his new family had changed that. Maybe he just needed a reality check. Like it or not we would always be bonded together as parents and needed to act like adults and do what was in the best interests of everyone.
“Hello,” his girlfriend, make that wife, answered. What the hell was she doing, answering his cell phone? I couldn’t help but be annoyed. I had never answered his cell phone. Wasn’t my business.
“Is Brian there?”
There was a pause. “May I ask who’s calling?”
I rolled my eyes. It was a cell phone, my number would have come up in the display. I’d never really liked this woman even before I found out she was my husband’s mistress. We had come in contact at many of Brian’s work functions and while she was attractive and smart, I would give her that, I always had thought she was a bit of a bitch. Though in hindsight, maybe that was because they were having an affair and she hated seeing me with him as much as I didn’t like her answering his phone.
“The mother of his children,” I said sweetly, hoping I would piss her off. Juvenile, I realized, but it made me feel so much better. I needed to have a decent relationship with Brian. Not necessarily her.
I could tell by the way she just dropped the phone on the table without saying a word and then screamed to Brian his ex-wife was on the phone, it had worked. I smiled in satisfaction. Petty or not, sometimes it was the small things and I wasn’t going to feel guilty for my actions. I had been more than nice throughout this whole thing. I know she wasn’t to blame, Brian was, so I had always tried my best to not take out my frustration on her.
I could hear footsteps coming closer to the phone and hushed voices. I couldn’t hear what was being said but the whispers didn’t sound happy. Amazing what great reception it had, and in a couple seconds Brian picked it up.
“What do you want?” he said none too kindly
“Hello to you, too. I hear congrats are in order,” I said being cheerful, trying not to let his abruptness hurt my feelings. I was in control of how I felt, not him.
“Is that why you called? Because you wanted to congratulate me on my marriage?” he asked in a shitty tone. I’m sure he was being defensive because he probably thought I was calling to yell at him. Which he did deserve, but I wasn’t going to stoop to that level.
I had always been good to him and I didn’t deserve this.
“No. I want you to stop being such a self-centered asshole and remember that while you may have divorced me, you did not divorce your kids, and maybe you should work a little harder at being a father to them and not give them the impression you care more about your new family than them.”
There was silence on the other end of the line. Not at all surprising since my short rant was uncharacteristic of me. Through the course of our marriage, I had always deferred to him and rarely asserted my opinion if it was one that would cause an argument and I don’t think I had ever called him a name before. Frankly, it felt good. I should have done this a long time ago.
“The kids made their choice not to come to the wedding. They’re adults, I can’t force them to do anything,” he said, still in a shitty tone that frankly made him sound like a child in my opinion. I didn’t understand what his deal was.
“Brian, they may be over 18 and in college, but that doesn’t make them emotional adults. They’re also your kids regardless of their age and as the father, it’s your job to work a little harder at this than them. Don’t let happen what happened between me and my father,” I warned.
“That’s as much your fault as it is his, Sterling.”
This had been an ongoing disagreement between Brian and I for years. He had always liked my dad and didn’t understand why I held animosity toward him and wouldn’t just forgive him and be a happy family. The last year had given me more insight as to why he would feel that way.
“You�
�re right. I won’t argue that. But the end result is we don’t talk and neither do him and my sister. Don’t let that happen to you and our kids. Don’t let them get away until it’s too late. You’re the parent, Brian, and no matter how old they are you’ll always be the parent. It’s up to you to make this work and being self-righteous about how they made their choice and you can’t change their mind is bull and you know it Don’t be an idiot!”
Another long silence passed and had I not been able to hear him breathing on the phone, I might have thought he had hung up on me.
Finally he said, “OK.”
“OK?”
“OK, you’re right. I don’t want to have the relationship, or rather non-relationship, you have with your father. I’ll talk to them. I want them to be part of this and you’re right, I’m not going about it in a very good way.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. I know you love those kids and aren’t trying to replace them. But they need to know that. They may be grown, but this has made them insecure. Or at least it has Joanna, I haven’t spoken to Jaime.”
We spent a couple more minutes talking about some logistical things about items lingering from our split.
Some of his mom’s china was still at the old house waiting for him to get it and a couple of pieces of furniture. He could take all of it, as far as I was concerned. I had originally wanted to stay in the house, but the more I had stayed there alone, the more I realized it was too big. And even if my reason was it was the house my kids grew up in, those memories belonged to me, not the house.
Impulsively, I said, “Do you want the house, Brian?”
There was another long pause in which I had no idea what he was thinking. I’m sure he was surprised. I had been adamant that he should be the one to leave the house, not me and this call had started with me bitching at him, this quick change of topics probably made him wonder if I was hormonal. The conclusion he had always made when he felt I was irrational. A conclusion that always made me want to take a frying pan to his head and show him just how hormonal I could be.
“You want to give up the house?” he asked, his tone changing to one a little nicer but sounding very surprised and a little on guard. “Why?”
“It’s too much to take care of and with just me living there, it doesn’t make sense. I’ve actually been thinking of moving to town.” That wasn’t a lie, I had briefly thought of it, but at the time couldn’t fathom leaving the house our kids grew up in. I don’t know what had just changed for me. Maybe Brian’s actions and his completely moving on had been that final piece I needed to set me free from the past.
“Let me talk this over. I like the idea of … well you know.”
I assumed he meant in light of his upcoming child. I might be more ready to move on but I wasn’t ready to hear those words any more than he apparently wanted to say them. Not yet anyway.
When we got off the phone, I was pleasantly surprised at how I felt. It was quite a sense of relief. Of course, I hope he followed through and talked to the kids, but as far as us - nothing. I wasn’t mad, I wasn’t sad. I felt fine. This was progress.
I looked at my watch and decided I should change spots and head down to the beach. See what kind of action was going on down there. I knew Wendy and her sister were on a jeep tour for the day, but I wasn’t sure what Steve was doing. I hadn’t wanted to ask, feeling it would seem like I was fishing for an invite. But I was hoping I would run into him and I couldn’t do that here in my room. That would have required an invitation. I giggled to myself, thinking about potential reasons I would invite him to my room.
Thirty minutes later, I headed down to the beach and found a nice spot in about the same place as the other day when I met Wendy. Maybe today I would meet another new friend.
While it was nice not having anything to do and being lazy out in the sun, it got boring kind of quick. I wasn’t used to not having anything to do and just sitting around and I just couldn’t get into reading. Maybe I would go see what was happening back up at the resort. I started to gather up my things and put them back in my bag to carry up the path.
“You’re leaving so soon? But I just got here.”
I looked up to see a man, nice looking though probably a few years younger than me. I couldn’t help but laugh at the sad look on his face.
“You weren’t fast enough,” I joked. “I had given up on you.”
“So sorry, my tennis lesson ran late. I know I should have called.”
“Really? They have tennis lessons here?”
“No, not really,” he smiled again. “I mean, I think they have tennis lessons here but that’s not where I was. It just sounded better than my actual reason for being late.”
“Which was?”
“I overslept.”
“It’s almost noon.”
“Exactly, which is why I didn’t want to tell you the truth. Makes me look lazy. May I sit?” he asked, gesturing to an empty lounge chair beside me.
“I don’t know,” I pretended to think. “I don’t usually associate with slackers.”
“I understand. I just ask you to give me this one chance. I promise it won’t happen again.”
“Ok, go ahead and sit down.”
He did so and then held out his hand. Tom Butler.”
“Sterling Towne.”
“What brings you here, Sterling?”
“The mansion gets cold and drafty this time of year so I decided to hop on my private jet and find some sunshine. What about you?”
“Same thing. Those mansions are drafty. Makes one wonder why we didn’t build them better?”
We both laughed and I realized I was being flirty and playful, and it was fun. I didn’t feel an instant attraction to this man like I did with Steve but this was vacation. It was just good to talk to people.
“Really, what brings you here?” I asked.
“I’m from Miami and I wanted a change of scenery. So I hopped a plane down here for a few days.”
“Me too. Though I‘m not from Miami, rather the mid-west, all the more reason to come down for some sun.”
We went through the normal chit chat ritual of what you do for a living and family and such that people do the first time they meet.
I found out he was thirty-five, so more than a few years younger than me. Single, no kids, was an artist, and originally from Orlando where his parents still lived.
“Listen, do you want to have dinner with me tonight?” he asked.
I hesitated. I didn’t have plans, but I had half been hoping I would run into Steve and I could casually ask him but that was just silly. Why take the chance of being alone for dinner when I could have the good company of someone else? Besides, it wouldn’t be smart to get too attached to Steve. I wouldn’t probably see him again after this vacation was over and he had canceled on me today. Maybe he’d already had his fill of me.
“Sure! What time, what restaurant?”
“Whew, you almost had me worried. Thought I was going to eat alone. 8 pm at the patio dining room? I’ll make reservations.”
“Sounds good.”
“I need to be going, not that I wouldn’t rather stay and chat, but I have an appointment.”
“I see, make a date and run,” I teased. “It’s fine. Go ahead to your next tennis lesson.”
“See you at 8?”
I nodded and he left. I once again gathered my things to head back up. I briefly thought that maybe it wasn’t too smart to have dinner with a complete stranger, but then Steve had been a stranger and frankly everyone that you meet started out as a stranger. If you didn’t take chances, how would you ever make new friends?
Chapter 10
After a nap and a long shower, I was wide awake and starving. I got to the restaurant a few minutes early and as I walked up so did Tom. I felt a little bit bad about not telling Steve I was having dinner with Tom. Which was silly. It’s not like we were in a relationship and I hadn’t talked to him at all today. I just couldn’t remember the la
st time I had dinner with two men in two days who weren’t related to me. The thought made me smile. I was being quite the player these days.
“Good timing,” he said to me with a big smile, and then turned to the hostess. “Reservation for Butler, please.”
The hostess looked at her book for the reservation and then grabbed two menus while asking us to follow her.
Tom motioned for me to go first, being quite the gentleman. He looked very handsome in dark blue jeans with a white T-shirt and black vest. It wasn’t until I looked down at his feet that I burst out laughing.
“Hey! It’s vacation. No making fun of my footwear.”
He had on flip flops with his outfit which of course just didn’t exactly go, but he was right, it was vacation and anything goes on vacation. It was exactly why I was sitting here with him in the first place. Back home having dinner with a man ten years my junior who I had just met probably wouldn’t be something I would do, but here it seemed perfectly normal.
We sat down and after a few minutes ordered. With that task out of the way, we were faced with the challenge of needing to engage in small talk. But I shouldn’t have worried for a moment. Tom was quite chatty and pretty interesting. He had a funny way of telling things.
I had just started telling him my luggage story when our food came.
“Not having your own clothes? That blows. Especially for a woman,” he teased.
“And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“Because men don’t need fancy shoes and we don’t mind wearing the same pair of jeans every day. You women are a lot more picky.”
I nodded. “True, I do like my own things.”
“See. Like me, I just need one pair of flip flops, not a whole suitcase of flip flops.”
“Maybe because you just don’t have any fashion sense.”
