I hope it wasn’t Ashley.
He hands me flowers and moves in for a kiss, when his eyes move behind me and he spots my happy family.
There is no worse mood killer.
Ray turns his head, laughing at something Magnolia is telling him while Zinnia plays on her iPad.
She’s probably blogging about her dysfunctional family.
“Hey, Tucker. How are you?” Ray walks over and shakes Tucker’s hand. “Happy Valentine’s Day. Ha, is that a weird thing to say to another guy? Especially one who’s dating your wife.”
He cracks himself up and Tucker manages a weak smile, but I can tell he’s gritting his teeth pretty badly under those luscious lips.
I am so thankful that Tucker is the type to keep his mouth shut whenever there’s a chance for a big blowout, especially in front of the girls.
They are arguing over something on the Internet right now, so they aren’t paying attention. Normally I’d break it up, but I just want to get out the damn door and away from this awkward situation.
“Thanks for taking the girls out, Ray. Good night.”
I grab my coat and gloves off the wooden hook and Ray says, “No need to thank me, I’m their father.”
He winks and I glance at Tucker to make sure he is still gritting his teeth and isn’t getting ready to bite instead.
“Yes, that’s true, Ray. Have fun, girls!”
I wave at my oblivious daughters, and now my hand is on the freaking doorknob when Ray interrupts again.
How many times is this man going to open up his big mouth to stall my escape?
Ray leans in closer to us and Tucker gently pulls me back towards his chest by my elbow, away from Ray’s incoming and unwelcome entry into our personal space.
“Sorry, I know you two are trying to get your fun evening started—where are you going? Do you have reservations?”
Why this question requires Ray to get up close and personal is beyond me, but I say through my own now clenched teeth, “Yes, we do. At Ricardo’s.”
Crap, that’s right across the street from the arcade and we are so NOT going there. But it’s not like I can tell Ray we’re getting takeout from the other Italian place near Swanson Auto Repair and enjoying a nice, quiet romantic night in the backseat of a vintage car.
Yes, I caved to that suggestion. No one is going to look for us there and we’ll have plenty of privacy and it’s an adventure!
And yes, we packed blankets. And Tucker is pulling out all the old upholstery anyway, so don’t think we’re being gross in some rich guy’s fancy old car.
Ray says, “Oh nice. None of the Italian in this town was ever up to snuff but you two don’t know the difference, right?” He smacks Tucker’s arm and now I hold his hands and pray we can make it just the two steps out the door before he blows up.
Tucker finally says, “Okay, good night Ray.”
He does not sound like he sincerely wants Ray to have a good night.
“Thanks, buddy, oh and hey, Moll—thanks for not saying anything to Mags about our trip to Philly.”
Ray looks at Tucker and I want to throw up.
I have no choice but to jump in and tell Tucker what we’re doing and hope this doesn’t ruin our night.
I’m pretty certain the innocent trip with the girls can be explained on the ride to the auto shop. Ray has not mentioned the actual plan to me, so I am playing dumb until I can talk to him about it properly.
Tucker drops my hands and takes a deep breath. “So you and Ray are going to Philly together? With the girls?”
I say yes as the same time Ray says no.
Son of a bitch!!
“Ray, we can’t talk about this right now, but I would not have agreed to this trip had I known you wanted me to go alone with you.”
Now it’s eerily silent in the living room and I hope Zinnia isn’t filming us.
Ray puts up his hands and backs up. “I just wanted this to be a surprise for…somebody.”
Obviously, he assumes the kids are now listening, and he lowers his voice. “And I thought her mother and father should check it out and make sure it’s suitable for her before we tell her about it and disappoint her if we decide it’s a shithole.”
How he thinks the girls don’t know he’s talking about one of them just shows how stupid he really is, but I have to get out of this house as urgently as I’d need a can of Raid if an army of red ants was marching into my cookie jar.
Ray gives up on getting a response and says, “Well, we can talk about this later—privately. You two have fun!”
I am sincerely praying that Tucker is hornier than he is angry, or else I may as well just feed our picnic to red ants and go to the seedy side of town and buy myself a vibrator.
Happy Valentine’s Day to me!
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“I haven’t fooled around in a car this many times since—”
Tucker sits up and pretends that switching the radio station is a vital concern, and I touch his arm and say, “I’m sorry. I know you know what I was goin’ to say. It’s not like I can lie now and say I’ve been in cars with all sorts of men. You know me better than that.”
I laugh and Tucker lies back down next to me in our little makeshift love nest. I really need to watch my Ray references, even the unintentional ones.
It’s late at night after the Valentine’s Day party the following Saturday night, and after our fun foray into car romance on February 14th, we decided that the auto shop is our best bet for privacy.
But this time we decided to use the back of Tucker’s truck instead of the customer’s vehicles.
“I know, but I don’t like thinkin’ about it. We really need to figure all this out, Molly. This is fun and all, but we are adults. I’ll be thirty next month, and sneakin’ around like a kid, or a cheater, is not what I want.”
“I agree, but I’m a mother and I have to ease the girls into all of this.”
“Do you actually think those girls don’t think we’re sleeping together? Magnolia is fifteen and Zinnia is almost thirteen. Trust me, they know everything, whether or not you’ve told them about it.”
I wince because I know he’s right. I have told them a lot, but probably not enough.
And I’m sure some of the other divorced moms at school have boyfriends who sleep over, and Tucker is someone the girls have known their whole lives.
“Okay, let me think about it.” I rub his arm and he isn’t looking at me. The ceiling in the shop can’t be all that interesting.
“Is there something else bothering you? I know we talked about me going to Philadelphia with Ray, and you said you understood, but I feel like maybe it’s still an issue.”
Tucker sits up again and starts getting dressed. “Nope, no issue. If you feel that you need to do this for Magnolia, I am not gonna interfere. You will have to spend time with Ray for the rest of your life because you have kids together. And I do trust you. I do not trust Ray one bit, but I am not gonna tell you what to do.”
His words and actions don’t seem to match because he’s suddenly become aloof and distant, and now he’s handing me my clothes.
“Come on, we need to get home. Let’s stay at my place. Ray has the girls, and they’re not gonna know where you spent the night, and you’re leavin’ for your meditation thing tomorrow anyway.”
He’s right. I am being way too cautious. We should have just walked from the party at the clubhouse to Tucker’s apartment and not even bothered with this foolishness.
I just wish I didn’t have so much mother guilt. Mama really did a number on my head growing up, judging every woman who didn’t do exactly what she thought was right. Or what the preacher at her church told her to think was right.
I pull Tucker in for a kiss and say, “That sounds amazing. I’ll be ready in a jiffy.”
He seems happier now and helps me out of the back of the truck into the front seat. I do wish I had a change of clothes, but I’m so tired, and I could just go around the back
in the morning, so I don’t have to do the walk of shame to my front door.
Actually, scratch that—I am not ashamed. I deserve some happiness.
I hate to say it, but I probably should have been in therapy years ago.
Before he starts the truck, Tucker takes my hand, pulls it to his lips and kisses it. Not in a ‘let’s have sex again’ way, but in a tender, loving manner that makes my eyes mist. He’s really such a good guy, and I’m so lucky he made his move when he did.
I’d like to think I wouldn’t have taken Ray back, but who knows?
One thing I do know for sure—Raymond Anthony Rizzo is going to lose an important body part if he tries anything even remotely fishy on this trip. I told him I am staying one night, and in my own room far from his room. He gave me the name of the hotel and I have made my own reservation.
Tucker is right—Ray will always be in my life in some capacity, so we need to learn how to exist in the new normal.
Or as normal as things can be when you have a ghost visiting you on the regular.
I am really praying that Meemaw doesn’t show up in the meditation room gnawing on a chicken leg.
***
“Welcome all of you beautiful souls to the silent retreat. I trust you’ve all settled into your rooms, and you find them to be comfortable and conducive to the transformative experience that awaits you.”
The leader of the retreat is a short, soft-spoken Indian man, and there is also a fifty-something blond woman with ginormous boobs and a face full of white teeth on display, and a very tall, thin African American man, who just keeps smiling. His back is so straight in his chair that he doesn’t look real.
I’m already feeling fidgety in the meditation hall and this is only the orientation. Our rooms at the retreat center are kind of like no-frills motel rooms, but I still think being away is going to be pure bliss.
I didn’t even say anything to Ashley about her behavior at the Mardi Gras party. It’s not worth it, and I am not feeding her bad intentions.
The only problem is that I’ve already decided to break the retreat rules.
Tucker and I enjoyed spending the night together so much last night that I asked him to come to the retreat center and sneak into my room tonight.
That’s two amazing nights, and I don’t see how anyone will know or stop us.
There are like sixty people at this retreat—I had no idea this many people would pay good money to sit in a chair or on the floor in silence for days.
Anyone can do that at home.
Anyway, it’s a free country and I’m an adult and I’m paying, so if I want a visitor, I can have one.
The rooms are small, so we all have our own, so I didn’t get stuck with a roommate. Emma was saying she wishes we could have shared to save money, but she gets to sleep with Dawson every night.
My mind is wandering and now the leader is saying something about when the silent time is going to start. We even have to eat our meals with other people in silence.
That is going to be so weird. I hope I don’t burst out laughing. It seems like the people here are taking this as serious as a dog takes a piece of meat.
I survey the room, and Ashley, Olivia, and Emma are seated on the floor on cushions. Ashley and Olivia are wrapped up in blankets, even though it’s plenty warm in here.
We had to take our shoes off, which also felt weird. I hope I can find mine before we go to lunch.
Shawn (yes, that nitwit signed up for this, too) is sitting opposite Ashley on the floor, and is peeking at her while stealing glances at the front of the room. He couldn’t be any more obvious.
I opted to sit in a chair, but I did take one of the cushions because if I’m going to have to sit here for more than a few minutes, I’m going to get a pain in my rump for sure.
“And do not be offended if someone will not meet your eyes when we are in silence. Some retreatants like to go deep into their silence and have no interaction with others.”
Well, that’s good to know, but how do you walk past someone and not make eye contact?
I catch myself slouching in my seat and I sit up straighter as the leader rings a bell and says that the silence begins now.
I feel better knowing that we can talk to the leaders if we have questions, and we can write questions on the board in the main hall, in case we need anything.
Of course they can’t stop us from talking, but I don’t want to be the backwards country bumpkin who ruins this experience for the others. I can keep my yap shut if I have to.
Oh my Lord, the blond big boobs lady just announced that we are doing a forty-five-minute sit to start the retreat, and it’s not guided.
Apparently, that’s not going to be a problem for these people. Everyone is settled in nicely and they’re off to la-la land.
This morning, the woman sitting next to me at breakfast asked me about my ‘practice’ and how much work I put into it.
I thought she meant my business, so I said at least twenty hours a week, but when I quit my waitressing job, I’ll do more.
She seemed very impressed, but then I felt like a damn fool when Emma explained that she was referring to my meditation practice.
Now I’ve got people thinking I’m some kind of lady monk Zen master.
I should have listened to Ashley and downloaded that app with the meditation music and practiced a little before this weekend, but who has time for that?
Plus, Ashley really gets my goat. After that crap she pulled about divorcing Ray in front of Tucker to purposely piss me off, I have noticed her stopping to talk to Tucker in the neighborhood parking lot.
At the Valentine’s Day party, I saw them talking privately a few times while I was talking to someone else or dancing with the girls.
Fortunately, Tucker played better music at his shindig.
I try to focus on my breath, as we were instructed. But it’s hard when my thoughts are racing, and I don’t know what to do to make them stop. How is this relaxing?
Just when I think I might fall asleep sitting up; I hear someone loudly snoring at the front of the room.
Some of the meditators, who seem super comfortable doing whatever the hell they want in a room full of strangers, have chosen to roll out yoga mats and lie side by side on the floor.
How the heck am I supposed to concentrate on my breath when that fool is sawing a cord of wood over there?
This is going to be a long couple of days, but the girls will be with Ray, and I took off from work, and Tucker will be with me tonight.
So, who gives a rat’s ass if I’m doing this right or not?
And I silenced my phone as was instructed, but I didn’t leave it in the car, as was suggested. They stressed that we can do whatever we are called to do, and there are no rules.
Other than zipping our lips but that’s not a problem. I have a feeling that Tucker and I won’t be doing a whole lot of talking tonight.
***
Tucker squeezes me tightly and kisses my neck.
“This was the best idea we’ve had to date. Maybe you should take up retreats as a hobby, and I’ll just follow along for the fringe benefits.”
I laugh and give in to the pleasure. I told him that we should try to be as quiet as possible to respect the other people on my floor who are super serious about this experience.
Luckily his voice doesn’t carry, and we have some meditation-like music playing. The tall straight-backed guy told us that playing some meditative tunes might help us to continue our state of bliss, or something like that. I downloaded the app, even though my state of bliss is just fine.
“Did you hear that?”
I flinch and Tucker stops working his magic on his way down my body.
“What? All I hear is some weird chanting and gongs goin’ off.” He laughs and I put my finger on his lips.
“Shush. I’m serious.” Now I’m worried that Meemaw is here to chastise me for breaking the rules and sneaking a boy into my bedroom.
I am
seriously losing it, and if that’s the case, Tucker won’t hear anything anyway.
Tucker sits up when he obviously hears the distinct tap on the window.
“What the hell is out there?”
He gets up and pulls on his sweatpants, tiptoeing towards the window. He quickly pulls open the drapes and says, “It’s my birdbrain brother.”
I pull the covers up to my neck as Tucker pries open the window that’s almost painted shut and says, “What are you doin’ here, you jackass?”
“Shhh…this is supposed to be a silent retreat.”
Sure enough, Dawson’s head peeks into the room and he says, “Hey Molly, sorry about this. I’m tryin’ to find Emma’s room. She told me it was the third one from the pond on the first floor, but I think she miscounted.”
“Get in here, you stooge.”
Tucker pulls his brother through the window and we tell him which room is Emma’s. It turns out he counted the wrong way from the pond, and it should have been from the parking lot side.
“Tucker, can you please escort your brother to his woman’s room? I don’t want the others to think I’ve got more than one man in here. I must say I am surprised that Emma isn’t takin’ this seriously.”
Dawson rubs his chin and says, “Well, no. She is. She told me I can’t say a word to her, but once I told her that Tucker was plannin’ on visiting you she thought that it would be fun for me to hop on over, too. This feels like that time on the field trip in high school. Remember, Tuck? You snuck into—”
Tucker puts his hand over Dawson’s mouth and says, “Okay let’s get you down the hall and out of our hair.”
They close the door quietly and I sigh deeply. Dawson and Emma are so cute, but I really do hope we don’t get thrown out for not obeying the rules. I wrap the sheet around my body and shimmy over to the window, which the Swanson brothers didn’t bother to close. After just a few minutes, it’s cold enough to freeze the balls off a pool table.
It’s not going to be easy to shut this window. The sill looks like it’s been painted about fifty times and it’s as sticky as a bull frog’s tongue.
I tug on it and right before I give up and decide to wait for Tucker’s return, I see a light in the parking lot.
Something Molly Can't See Page 14
