I want to remind him that things became pretty serious when my husband disappeared without a trace.
He winces at my glare and says, “The girls were trying to reach you. I checked in with them. They said all is well at home. I would have brought the phone to the room, but I was afraid you’d throw a lamp at my head if I attempted reentry to the romance suite.”
He smiles and I sit down and close the door. It’s so warm in here, but from the looks of things Ray hasn’t been keeping the truck running constantly. He’s wrapped up in a blanket and he looks miserable.
It serves him right for pulling this stunt, but now I feel guilty for forcing him out here. The woman at the desk did say it was the hotel’s mistake and Ray didn’t purposely get one room.
Unless he paid her to say that.
Here I go again with the active imagination.
“Where did you get that blanket?”
“I asked for it at the front desk. They gave me a pillow, too. Fancy.”
I sigh and lean back against the head rest. I am beyond exhausted now and my defenses are a little low, but I don’t see any reason to be this mean. Ray isn’t going to try anything, and if he does, I will scream so loud that every champagne glass tub in this place will shatter and there will be a flood and mass evacuation.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but do you want to come inside?”
“I do, but they won’t let me sleep in the lobby, and I would try to go home with the desk clerk, but she’s not my type.”
I wrinkle my face in disgust and again he says, “I’m kidding. Look, we’re both exhausted. I appreciate you taking pity on me. I just want to sleep. I can sleep on the sofa, of course, and that suite is so big that the sofa isn’t even in the same room. You can put on your bathing suit and get in the tub and relax. In the morning we’ll head to Philly, and the real reason for this trip, and forget this ever happened.”
“Okay, deal. But I am warning you…”
He holds up his hands. “I swear on Aunt Ida’s grave that I will be a perfect gentleman.”
We get out of the truck and while Ray grabs his hotel bedding, I wonder—was he really that close to Aunt Ida? It’s a weird reference. But I have a feeling there are a lot of blanks from Ray’s time away that have not been filled in.
***
“I’m glad the girls aren’t giving you a hard time. Magnolia can be tricky, but it sounds like you’re a natural dad. I mean, babysitter.”
Tucker had also tried to call me while my phone was trapped in the car with Ray. I have to give Ray some credit—he could have answered it and created a whole heap of additional trouble for me.
Maybe he really does respect my relationship with Tucker? It must be hard for him to see me with someone else, if he still has feelings for me, and know that he did something that I can’t forgive.
Tucker clears his throat and says, “Yeah, dad is a little bit of a stretch, but I’m gettin’ the hang of this adult responsibility thing. And I would love to be a dad someday.”
The water in the luxurious tub suddenly feels colder. I wish I hadn’t made that reference. What am I supposed to say now? I am the mother of two young teens—do I really want more babies?
I just tell him he’d be a great dad and change the subject. He asks if I’m in the tub—I guess he hears the jets, and we talk about more pleasant topics, like how nice it would be if he were here to enjoy this with me.
While we’re planning a possible weekend away for the two of us, the jets abruptly stop, and Ray is standing right behind me. “Hey, Moll, do you have any Tylenol? My head’s beatin’ like a jackhammer.”
I almost want to drop the phone in the tub and call Tucker back from the hotel room phone. Maybe I could claim that the room service guy just walked in, and I got scared and my phone slipped out of my hand.
But freaking Ray is practically on top of me, he turned the damn jets off, and now he’s pretending that he didn’t see I was on the phone.
I’d like to drown him.
Tucker breaks the silence in the room and says, “Are you going to explain why Ray is in your room while you’re takin’ a bath? That is Ray, right?”
I can tell he is trying to remain calm, but I don’t see how I am going to talk my way out of this.
Ray slinks away, mouthing his silent apologies.
I can’t believe I trusted him enough to let him come up here, but I haven’t been totally truthful with Tucker, and when that happens it’s a big web of lies. My words stick in my throat like a hair in a biscuit.
“Tucker…yes, it is but I can explain.”
I start to tell him how we made a detour and I don’t get past the mix up in the lobby before Tucker is yelling.
Tucker rarely ever yells. Even as a child, he was the quiet one. Dawson would be howling like a wolf at the moon over every darn thing, but Tucker was quiet and laid back.
“Molly, I just can’t believe how stupid you’re bein’. And you’re not a stupid woman, so I can only assume that at least some part of you wants to give Ray a chance. There have got to be other hotels in that area, and there is no reason you couldn’t have found one and left him in his fancy sex den.”
“Tucker, please…it’s not like that. He brought my bathing suit—”
“Your bathing suit?! Where the fuck did he get that? Molly, you know what, I can’t do this. I thought I could overlook Ray and the way you’ve been handlin’ this since he got back, but I can’t.”
“I’m sorry. I really am. But nothing is happening, I swear. We’re both exhausted from the drive, and I told him I was very upset with him for doin’ this and tomorrow we are stopping at the camp in Philly and comin’ right home. I promise.”
“It doesn’t matter. Do whatever you want. I have other things to keep me occupied. I want a family Molly, and a real committed relationship. And it was stupid for me to think I had a real chance with a woman who already has all of that with another man. I’ll take good care of the girls until you get back. And honestly, I think I’m gonna start lookin’ for another place to live.”
I start to protest as the tears are falling but he quietly says, “Good night, Molly Mae. Have a safe trip.”
And he’s gone.
I toss the phone onto the carpeted floor and jump up out of the tub, wrapping myself up in a towel.
Ray pops back in and he’s either very brave, dumber than a stump, or he’s got a death wish.
***
The past week has passed in a haze of tears and anger, but I know I have to pull myself together. I have two jobs and kids to take care of, and maybe I would like to do something fun for once.
Crazy as it sounds, even Olivia came to my door to tell me she was sorry to hear about me and Tucker, and she added herself to the long list of people who apparently never liked Ray.
She asked me if I wanted to go out some time and get to know each other better.
Since we’ve been neighbors for several years, and she’s never been anything but nosy, bitchy, and judgmental towards me and all the women in this complex, I am wondering if that meditation really is like hypnosis or brainwashing.
Maybe Ashley’s a witch. If ghosts are real, why not witches?
With all my drama, Meemaw has not been down (Over? Around? Up? Who knows where she comes from?).
It’s bad when your dead grandmother is too ashamed of you to even bother scolding you.
Maybe she’s letting me lick my wounds first. Or she’s taking extra haunting classes to learn how to keep me from digging into her past.
I know I should let it go but finding out the truth about my lineage has become a diversion from my screwed-up love life, and I texted Albert yesterday, asking if I could see him when he comes back to town.
I merely said I was Florence Atkinson Bailey’s granddaughter, and I had some questions for him. That way if he wanted to keep hiding the big secret, he could just ignore me or decline my invitation.
If that avenue of information is closed to
me, I will leave it alone until Meemaw decides to tell me. We have time—it’s not like she’s going anywhere she can’t come back from.
I haven’t heard from Albert yet, but it sounds like he spends all day on his bike, and he may be too tuckered out to respond.
Shoot, I’ll need to stop using that expression. The word ‘tuckered’ almost makes me start bawling again.
The weekend has rolled around again and now that February is ending, I’m thinking about Tucker’s thirtieth birthday party, which is planned for March 30th, a Friday night and his actual birthday.
I had ‘30 on 30’ banners made for the party, and all sorts of ideas for food. Dawson called, and he and Emma are coming over to talk about it.
I know Tucker is very upset with me, and it kills me to know that I hurt him, but it doesn’t look like he’s making any attempt to move away—Lia said he hasn’t given her notice—and this party is my big chance to make it up to him.
I laid into Ray so hard that night at the hotel that he actually did spend the rest of the night in the truck.
I was borderline hysterical, but I think all of the emotion I had bottled up when he left went shooting out of me like water out of a hose at a three-alarm fire.
He claimed he didn’t purposely interrupt my conversation and cause Tucker to jump to conclusions, but it sure seemed convenient that his head was suddenly hurting while I was on the phone.
I barely spoke to him on the way to the camp, and only behaved politely on the tour so that the school representatives wouldn’t think we were crazy people and they shouldn’t let our kids attend their programs.
We came home and told the girls that they are going, and they were very excited.
Then I privately told Ray to stay away from me.
He has obeyed so far, and he took the girls this weekend. Zinnia said that Daddy said Mom needs a little alone time.
Alone is what I feel all the time now.
Just a couple of months ago I never would have thought that Tucker rejecting me would hurt like this. I tried to text him when we left the hotel, but he just wrote back and said he has nothing more to say.
When we got back to town, the girls were at home and Tucker wasn’t there. Zinnia told me that he left as soon as I texted them to say we were close to home.
My daughters have been strangely silent on the topic of my love life, but perhaps they are secretly happy. I know Magnolia wants Ray and I back together. And even Zinnia is falling under his charms again.
I straighten up the messy living room, so Dawson and Emma at least have a place to sit. While I’ve been wallowing in my misery, I haven’t been the best housekeeper.
I’m hoping that I can enlist my visitors to help me with Tucker. Dawson may be a little bit of a naïve boy, but he and Tucker are close, and Emma’s influence on the Swanson brothers has been a positive one.
I pour some lemonade into a pitcher and set up some sandwiches on a tray—this one is plastic, so if I drop it, it won’t shatter.
I have to be prepared for anything these days.
Although I can’t imagine what would cause me to freak out that bad after the shocks I’ve had so far this year.
I calmly walk back to the living room and lay the tray on the coffee table just as the doorbell rings. I take a deep breath and hope my lack of sleep and tear-filled episodes aren’t obvious to my friends.
I open the door to Emma wringing her hands and Dawson declaring, “Oh Molly, you don’t look so good.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Emma smacks Dawson’s arm.
“What? I’m just sayin’ she ain’t lookin’ like herself.”
I reply with forced cheer, “Oh it’s okay, he’s right. It’s been a rough week, but I’m so glad y’all came over so we can talk about Tucker’s party.” I lower my gaze and add, “And I want to explain what happened. With Ray.”
Emma leads us all to the sofa and I feel like I’m about to be the subject of some homegrown therapy. Emma looks like her best horse ran out of the barn and joined the circus.
I sit down in the chair that used to be ‘Ray’s chair’, while Emma and Dawson make themselves comfortable on the sofa.
Or at least as comfortable as this situation will allow.
Dawson looks around the room and I realize it’s been a long time since he’s been inside my house.
“It’s very girly in here, I must say. You can tell a man hasn’t lived here in—”
Emma smacks him again, and he says, “Why do you keep hittin’ me? I was just sayin’ it looks nice in here. That’s all. Sheesh.”
“It’s okay, Dawson. It is like a den of estrogen in here.”
He scratches his chin and looks around again. “See, now I don’t see that at all. But you should probably call an exterminator.”
Emma’s eyes widen, and if they were visiting under more pleasant circumstances, she and I would share a conspiring look and laugh about it later.
But Emma’s face is so serious you’d think somebody died.
She places her hand on Dawson’s knee and gives him a ‘would you please shut up’ look.
She turns to me and says, “Molly, you know we all love you. And the girls. This is a terrible situation, and I was worried from the get-go that you and Tucker gettin’ involved romantically would be a problem, but with Ray in the picture—”
“It’s just a big shit sandwich. Pardon my language.” Dawson tips his hat and I can’t argue with him.
“I know Ray appearing when he did was the worst possible timin’ for me and Tucker, but I really want to make it work with him. What happened with Ray last week was nothing. Nothing happened.”
Emma pours some lemonade for Dawson and hands it to him. I suppose she thinks if she keeps his mouth occupied with drinking, he won’t interrupt her again with his helpful comments.
“Molly, no one is accusing you of sleeping with Ray, or anything like that. But since he’s been back, you’ve been very quick to let him back in your life…and I know you need to do what’s best for the girls. But Ray has been tryin’ to get you back—you know he has. And you have not set any boundaries.”
Now I’m assuming that my poor job with ‘boundaries’ has been the topic of conversation on meditation night at Ashley’s.
I have half a mind to tell Emma about my suspicions about Tucker and our new apartment manager, but things are already flying out of control like trailers in a tornado.
“Emma, you don’t know everything. I have an appointment with the lawyer next week, to start the divorce proceedings. It’s easy for y’all to say I’m in the wrong, but you haven’t been in my position.” I fold my arms and purse my lips.
None of these people have had the level of adult responsibility I’ve had, and the disappointments that come with it.
My husband, who I adored, left me with another woman and wasn’t seen or heard from in over a year! And I’m supposed to get my crap together pronto just because no one likes Ray, and Tucker can’t handle my baggage?
Dawson takes off his hat and places it over his heart, as if he’s going to propose in an old time western or break the news that my husband has been shot by a rogue band of outlaws.
That may sound silly, but I feel like everyone is paying their last respects to my relationship with Tucker.
“Me and Emma sympathize. We really do. But Tucker is a sensitive guy. He may not show it all the time, but he gets hurt easily. He put his heart out there on his sleeve and well…he’s not doin’ too good, either. He didn’t tell us to come here and say any of this. We’re just here to help.”
“How is this helping? I understand the timing of Ray comin’ back right after Tucker professed his feelings for me and we...well you know…but I can’t help that. I’ve got a business to get off the ground, and a fifteen-year-old baby who’s chasin’ after a grown man, and I’m still waitressing and adjusting to Ray’s reappearance. I need a minute!”
I’m trying not to shout, but it’s hard.
&nbs
p; Dawson says, “We just all think that Tucker would be better off with a woman with less suitcases.”
Emma rolls her eyes and says, “What he means is that Tucker wants to start a life with a woman who doesn’t have all the baggage you have. It’s not your fault, but as you just said—your life is complicated. Therefore, a new relationship is just not good timing.”
I drop my shoulders and say, “I guess Tucker doesn’t want me to help with the party anymore, right?”
They both look like they’re holding in a fart at church, so I think I have my answer.
“Don’t say any more. I understand.”
I stand up and walk towards the door. I love these two, but right now I am a little peeved at them and I don’t want them to see it. They are talking some sense but the whole situation is just one big…shit sandwich. Dawson was right about that.
They jump up and Emma yanks the lemonade glass out of Dawson’s hand and puts it back on the tray.
“Hey, I was still drink—”
“We’re so sorry, Molly, but it is best if we take it from here for the party. And it’s still a month away, so I’m sure you and the girls will still be welcome as guests. But Ray on the other hand…I hope he is smart enough to stay home.”
They leave, with Emma giving me a warm hug and Dawson a peck on the cheek.
I may be handling this poorly, but Ray is surely the filling in that previously mentioned sandwich.
***
I spent the rest of the weekend mostly moping around the house. I did do some cleaning because as Mama always said, ‘If I don’t clean, the Board of Health is gonna shut me down’.
Mama. That’s another person I’ve been avoiding. She’s called several times, and I know she wants to bug me about Ray. And Tucker. And probably Meemaw’s house.
With recent events, and my brothers taking care of very pregnant wives, that project has gotten sidelined again.
I should suggest that we hire one of those estate companies to come in and take care of everything and pay them from the proceeds when we sell the place, but if I say that Mama will act like I said we should host an orgy on Meemaw’s front lawn.
Something Molly Can't See Page 17
