by Tawna Fenske
But Meg’s guilt was the least of Patti Delaney’s problems. That was clear the instant Meg threw open the front door.
“Oh, sweetie—I knew you’d be home,” Meg’s mom sobbed. “Something awful happened.”
Kyle stood up, trying to gauge from this distance whether “something awful” was a hangnail or a death in the family. In his limited experience with Patti, he’d learned it could be either or nothing at all. He moved toward the front door with Bindi falling into step beside him, Floyd on her heels. He felt like the leader of some sort of bizarre inter-species parade.
“Hi, Patti,” he said, stepping beside Meg. “What’s wrong? Do you need help?”
“Kyle,” she said, startled enough to take a step back. She regrouped quickly though. “I didn’t realize you’d be here. I’m so sorry about your brother, honey.”
“Thank you.”
He stole a glance at Meg. She wore a guarded expression, which, come to think of it, was exactly how it was anytime he’d seen her around her mother.
“Come on in, Mom,” she said. “What’s wrong? Tell me what’s going on.”
“I’ll tell you all about it in the living room. Could I maybe get a glass of white wine?”
Okay, so whatever was going on wasn’t life threatening. Kyle turned and led Patti toward the living room even though she clearly knew the way. The bulky charm bracelet on her left wrist clattered and tinkled, prompting Bindi to prick her ears and prance behind them with her nose angled up toward the bracelet.
“Honestly,” Patti sniffed. “I just don’t know what I’m going to do.”
“I’m sure we’ll figure something out,” Kyle said as Meg hurried off toward the kitchen.
Leaving Patti in the living room, Kyle ran to the bathroom and grabbed a box of tissues. He set them on the coffee table, wondering if he should make a quick exit. Meg probably needed time alone with her mother right now. It was getting late anyway, and—
“Kyle, can I get you another glass of red wine, or would you like white?” Meg called from the kitchen.
He looked at Patti, who was busy trying to pet a snarling Floyd. “Here, kitty, kitty . . .”
Floyd growled and skittered under an end table. Kyle turned back to the kitchen to see Meg looking at him with a pleading expression, but he wasn’t sure if she wanted him to stay or go.
“Actually,” he said, “I was thinking I should probably get ho—”
“Red!” she shouted, grabbing the bottle off the counter with a maniacal look in her eye. “Coming right up.”
“Uh, red would be great.” Okay, so he wasn’t going anywhere.
“Have a seat, Mom,” Meg called. “I’ll bring your wine right out and you can tell me all about what’s going on.”
Kyle turned to see Patti had given up on Floyd and was puttering around the living room picking up picture frames and putting them back down again. She snatched a little glass tiger by the neck, turning it upside down to admire the bottom. Her bulky charm bracelet hit the edge of a small elephant figurine, and it toppled from the edge of the table toward the ground.
“Oh!” she gasped as Kyle leapt forward and caught the figurine six inches from the floor. He set it down on the table as Patti wandered off. Glancing back toward the kitchen, he was rewarded by a thankful look from Meg.
She had a bottle of white wine in some sort of chilling sleeve, a white wine glass, and a bowl of something he recognized as her homemade cheese straws.
Sticking around didn’t seem like such a hardship with those cheese straws to fortify him, so he turned back to the couch.
“Why don’t we have a seat, Patti?” he suggested. He started to guide her toward the love seat, then realized that would put him on the couch beside Meg. Something about that didn’t feel right. He should be the one seated as a bystander to whatever emergency mother and daughter needed to discuss.
“Right here,” he said, settling Patti on the sofa before claiming a spot on the love seat. Bindi trotted over and parked herself at his feet, while Floyd ambled behind his new best friend. The cat paused long enough to sniff Patti’s shoe, then growled and hopped up on his favorite paisley chair.
“So, Mom,” Meg said as she set the tray on the table and seated herself beside her mother. “Talk to me. What’s wrong? What’s happening?”
“It’s your father,” Patti sniffed. “He’s having an affair. Again.”
Meg winced, and Kyle wished like hell he could put his arms around her. She didn’t look terribly surprised, but she did look defeated.
“I’m so sorry,” Meg said, placing a hand on Patti’s knee. “How do you know?”
“I found text messages on his phone from the whore.”
“Hell,” Meg said. “You’re sure she’s not just a friend?”
“Do you send your friends photos of you naked with your ankles behind your head?”
Kyle choked on his wine, but Meg managed to keep a little more dignity.
“Not usually, no,” Meg said.
“Then I’m guessing she’s not a friend.”
Meg swallowed a big slug of wine while Kyle tried to think of something helpful to say. “Did you—uh—confront Greg about this?”
Patti nodded and fiddled with a cheese straw. “He said, and I quote, ‘Patti, I don’t have time for this right now. I’m late for a meeting.’”
“Oh, shit,” Meg said. “So now what?”
“Now I pack up all his things, set them on the front lawn, douse them with lighter fluid, and—”
“Not again, Mom. Remember what happened last time?”
“I learned my lesson from the fire department, dear. I went out and bought one of those portable outdoor fire pit things like the one we used to roast marshmallows on when you were little. Actually, it’s in the back of my car right now, and I could use some help unloading it at the house. Kyle?”
“What?” He blinked, not sure if she was soliciting his help to move the fire pit, light clothes on fire, or help with s’mores. Either way, he suspected his answer should be no.
“Kyle has plans, Mom,” Meg said, swooping to his rescue. “Besides, I’m sure he doesn’t want to risk ending up with an arrest record.
“This is true,” Kyle agreed. “Though those s’mores do sound tempting.”
“Let me ask you something, Kyle.” Patti turned and pointed a finger at him, and Kyle suddenly wished he’d made that escape. “Can you think of any reason for a grown man to look at his faithful, loving, loyal companion and think to himself, ‘It’s totally fine if I go screw someone else behind her back?’”
Kyle glanced at Meg, pretty sure he knew the right answer here, but not certain he should get in the middle of this. Meg gave him a small shrug, which he figured was permission to speak freely. “Definitely not,” he said.
“And can you think of any situation in which it’s acceptable for a man to have a girlfriend on the side while his wife waits at home keeping his dinner warm?”
Kyle gripped his wineglass a little tighter, thinking of that night. How had Matt justified his call to Annabelle, making arrangements to meet her in secret while Meg waited for him back home? What on earth had he been thinking that night?
You know exactly what he was thinking, his conscience told him. And it’s all your fault.
Kyle took a slug of wine, barely tasting it as it burned down his throat.
“No,” Kyle answered again. “I can’t think of any acceptable reason.”
He didn’t meet Meg’s eyes, afraid of what he might see there.
Patti huffed and took a sip of her own wine. “That’s what I thought. But Greg thinks he can just stick his pecker wherever he likes, and all he has to do to get back in my good graces is buy me another charm for my bracelet and all will be right with the world.”
She held up her arm, the charms jangling as she moved. Kyle stared at it, not sure what he was supposed to say. “That’s a lot of charms.”
“Exactly.” Patti shook her head. “So why
do I put up with it?”
Meg shook her head sadly. “I have no idea. You should put an end to it, though. Once and for all, just get out.”
Kyle looked at Meg, a little surprised by the bluntness. “Well, it’s true,” she said. “You’ve been putting up with it for years and I don’t understand why. Don’t get me wrong, I love Daddy, but why on earth do you keep letting him come back?”
“Oh, Meggy,” she sniffed. “You just don’t understand.”
Kyle watched the heat flare in Meg’s eyes. “I don’t understand being cheated on by the man who’s supposed to love me forever?”
Patti’s eyes widened a little, and she seemed to consider her words. “You don’t understand the sort of commitment it takes to say, ‘I take you for better or worse, and right now we happen to be smack-dab in the middle of worse.’”
“You’re right, I don’t understand that,” Meg said. “I don’t understand sacrificing myself to a man who doesn’t love and respect me enough to avoid screwing someone else.”
Kyle felt himself stiffen. Meg’s gaze shifted to him, and he realized she’d probably caught the gesture. “Sorry, Kyle. I don’t mean to disparage your brother—”
“His late brother,” Patti reminded her.
“Thanks, Mom,” Meg muttered through gritted teeth. “You think I’d forgotten?”
“Of course not, dear. All I’m saying is that sometimes a little forgiveness goes a long way.”
“Oh really?” Meg bolted up off the couch, her cheeks flaming now. “Where has forgiveness gotten you, Mom? Cheated on how many dozens of times? I’m sorry, but I wasn’t willing to put up with that. Not then, not now, not ever.”
“Meggy, honey—”
“Don’t patronize me. I’m sorry for what you’re going through with Dad, I really am. But if you want my honest opinion, you’re better off without him.”
“Meg!”
“Well, it’s true.” Her gaze swung to Kyle, and he had a sudden urge to apologize for his brother. Again. But he kept quiet, sensing Meg needed to rage without interruption.
“I have a lot of regrets in my relationship with your brother,” she said. “But drawing the line over the affair wasn’t one of them. He always knew that was a deal breaker for me.”
“Understood,” Kyle said softly, his mind swirling with his own regrets. He wished he could take her in his arms, but he knew now wasn’t the time.
Meg’s gaze swung back to her mother. “Mom, I’m so sorry for what you’re going through. You don’t deserve it.”
“I know,” Patti said, dabbing her eyes with a tissue.
“If you just want a hug, I can do that. But if you’re ready to say you’ve had enough, I’ll help you find a divorce lawyer and we can end this thing once and for all. Do you want to take that step?”
Patti looked at her daughter, her eyes watery and her mouth etched into a frown. She looked over at Kyle, and he wondered if he should offer words of encouragement or just keep his mouth shut.
Before he could say anything, Meg sat down beside her mother and put her arms around her. “You don’t have to decide right now, Mom. But when you’re ready to take charge of your life, I’m there for you. I hope you know that.”
“Thank you, sweetie.” Patti stroked Meg’s back, and it was such a tender moment Kyle could overlook the snot she was smearing all over Meg’s shoulder. “I’ll give it some thought.”
Kyle sat watching mother and daughter locked in an embrace, his heart aching for reasons that had nothing to do with their conversation.
It was after midnight by the time Meg’s mom finally left the house. Meg felt exhausted and emotionally drained, which she knew was nothing compared with how her mother must be feeling.
She watched her mom’s car pull down the driveway, her taillights flickering in the darkness. Meg had tried to get her to stay the night, but Patti had refused. “I want to be there when your father comes home,” she’d said. “Maybe we can talk this through.”
So Meg watched as her mom’s car vanished around the corner. If there was something else she could do to help, she didn’t know what it was.
“You okay?”
Meg turned to see Kyle standing beside her in the entryway. He had his keys in his hand, and an uncertain look on his face. He stood close enough that only a thick sliver of light separated her body from his, but it felt like they were a million miles a part.
“I’m all right,” she said. “You’d think I’d be used to this by now, huh? It’s not like this is the first time it’s happened.”
“I can’t imagine it’s ever easy seeing your father hurt your mother that way.”
“No. I suppose it isn’t.”
“My dad hasn’t always been around, but at least when he is, he tries to make my mom happy.”
“I always envied what your parents had,” she admitted.
“It’s not perfect, but it seems to work for them.” He paused, keys still in his hand. “Do you want me to stay?”
Meg hesitated, not sure what he was asking. Was he offering moral support or something else? Which did she most want right now?
Both. Neither. Her heart felt trampled and bruised, and she wasn’t in any condition to be making big decisions right now.
“I’ll go,” Kyle said at last, deciding for both of them. Even though it was what she knew was the smartest choice, Meg still felt a wave of disappointment flush through her.
“That’s probably best,” she said.
“I wish I could do something to help.”
“You already did. Just having you here helped a lot. If nothing else, it’s good for my mom to see not all guys are assholes.”
He smiled and shifted his keys from one hand to the other. “I don’t know about that.”
“Have you ever cheated on someone?”
She felt startled by her own question, and Meg started to take it back. But Kyle was already shaking his head.
“No. I’ve been an asshole in plenty of other ways, but not that one.”
“Good.”
“You?”
Meg shook her head. “Not unless you count fourth grade when Derek Jones asked me to go with him and I didn’t know where he wanted me to go, but I said yes and didn’t know that meant I had a boyfriend until Tommy Simmons kissed me on the playground and the other kids called me a slut.”
“Ouch.”
Meg gave a halfhearted smile. “Can’t say relationships got a whole lot easier from there.”
“I don’t know about that. Don’t you sometimes miss the days of kiss tag and flipping up your skirt to let a boy know you like him?”
“Who says I don’t still do that?”
Kyle smiled and looked down at his keys. He seemed to be weighing them in his palm, maybe weighing something else in his mind. When he looked up at her, there was something dark in his gray-green eyes.
“For what it’s worth, Meg, my brother wasn’t lying when he told you it only happened once.”
She swallowed hard and held his gaze. “How do you know that?”
“I just do.”
For some reason that seemed like enough of a reason to believe him. Still. “Once was enough to matter to me.”
“I know. But I thought you should know he wasn’t a serial cheater like your father. Not with you, anyway.”
Meg nodded. For some reason she did find that comforting. Even when Matt had broken the news to her, her mind had been drifting to what else he might be hiding. How many other women had there been? And did it matter if there had been one or one hundred?
“Let me ask you something,” Kyle said.
“Fire away,” she replied, willing to discuss just about anything to keep him here with her just a little while longer.
“Do you think your mom will leave him?”
“Definitely not.”
There was no hesitation in her voice, which seemed to surprise Kyle. “Really?”
“Not a chance.” Meg shrugged. “I don’t mean to be a
pessimist, but she’s been letting my dad run rickshaws over her for years.”
“Roughshod.”
“What?”
“Run roughshod over her. That’s the expression.”
“Whatever,” Meg said, waving a dismissive hand, and it occurred to her that Kyle’s gentle conversational corrections felt nothing at all like when Matt used to do it. “My point is that she’s not going to stop the cycle. Not now, not ever. It’s just the way things are with her.”
“How many affairs has your father had?”
Meg snorted. “That we know about? At least a dozen. I’m sure it’s more than that.”
“Do you think it’s some sort of weird turn-on for your mom?”
“I don’t think so. I’ve considered that before—I mean, as much as I’ve been willing to think about what turns my mom on—but I don’t think that’s it.”
“So what is it?”
She shrugged. “Low self-esteem? Force of habit? Refusal to back down from her marriage vows?”
“Love?” Kyle supplied, and Meg couldn’t tell if it was a question or a statement.
“Maybe. But it’s not any kind of love I’d want to be part of.”
“But you are part of it. Like it or not, you’re their daughter. You’re a product of that.”
“In more ways than one.”
Kyle leaned against the door, studying her with an intensity that made Meg start to squirm. “If that hadn’t been the story of your childhood, do you think you might have forgiven Matt and gone through with the wedding?”
Meg hesitated a moment, then nodded. “Yes.”
Kyle nodded, and something flickered in his eyes. “That’s what I thought.”
“That doesn’t mean it would have been the right thing to do. But I wouldn’t have known that at the time.”
He looked at her a moment longer, then pushed away from the door, shifting his keys from one hand to the other. From her spot in front of the fireplace, Bindi poked her head up and looked around. Meg knew she should just let him call his dog and walk out the door and go home to his own home, his own bed, his own life.
