“Hey, sis. About time you graduate!”
Tory slapped David’s shoulder and they embraced in a big bear hug.
“Hey, Dad. You’re looking good.”
He looks very good. He never seems to age! Damn, stop it, Scarlett.
“Thanks – you, too.”
“I have to pick up my graduation gown at the bookstore,” Tory said. “Do you guys want to wait here or come along?”
“I’ll come,” David said. “I could use a new shirt or two.”
“Don’t rush.” Mike pointed to the bench. “We’ll wait here.”
I felt as if there was a basketball stuck in my throat. Did he know? Would he say something?
Mike sat and I joined him. “It’s a beautiful day,” I said.
“Sure is. I’m glad there’s no rain in the forecast for the weekend and the graduation ceremony can be in the stadium. Remember the driving rain when we graduated?”
Why is it that when people don’t know what to talk about they talk about the weather? I suppose it’s a safe topic. It’s not like you’re going to run into someone who passionately favors hurricanes and tsunamis. And I supposed it’s also a topic we all have in common and can talk about. But in our case, we had a lot more in common than the weather. We had children and nineteen years of marriage. For us, talking about the weather was a way to avoid more painful topics.
“I remember,” I said. “Mom and Dad were so disappointed it wasn’t outside.”
“How are your parents, Scarlett? Tory told me they’re moving.”
I updated Mike on the big move and weighed whether to mention wanting to sell the house. It belonged to me so I didn’t have to, and yet I felt as if I should. Maybe he’d want to buy it from me.
“Mike,” I said. “I’m thinking about moving.”
He sat up and turned toward me. “Why? Where?”
I held out my hand. “Slow down. One question at a time.”
I explained the why and where and added a side note about making some other changes.
“So, what else is going on inside that brilliant mind of yours?”
I didn’t remember the last time Mike said I had a brilliant mind and then I realized he was being sarcastic. “Why do you care anyhow?” I took a sip of water from the bottle I’d retrieved from the trunk when I parked. “It’s my life and I can do with it what I want.”
“True, but I don’t want to see you screw it up.”
“Like I haven’t already screwed it up by marrying you.”
As soon as it came out of my mouth I wanted to stuff the words back in but it was too late. I had fanned the burning embers and within seconds we were engulfed in an inferno. Insults and hurtful words flew until we were both charred and broken.
I took a deep breath. “Look, let’s just get through this weekend being civil to one another for Tory. This is her big weekend. We need to put aside our differences for our daughter.”
Mike inhaled and exhaled, holding the inhale for so long I thought his face would turn blue. “You’re right. But I wish you would’ve talked to me about moving.”
“Mike, I just did. I haven’t put the house on the market yet. I’m still in the exploration stage. And, to be honest, I really don’t think what I do with my life is any of your business. And it hasn’t been for quite some time. That ended when you decided to have an affair.”
“Oh come on, Scarlett. Our marriage had gone south way before that.”
“True, but you should’ve ended our marriage before you screwed your secretary. Look, Mike, like I said, I really don’t want to fight. This weekend is for Tory. We need to be there for her.”
I looked toward the bookstore. “Tory and David are coming. Are we good?”
Mike nodded. “I’m tired of sitting on this damn bench anyway.”
As we walked toward David and Tory, something told me he’d remembered the bench.
Chapter 10
That night, after dinner, we went back to the hotel. David was staying with Mike so I had a room to myself. I was glad to be alone. I called Mom and Dad and then Shonna.
“Roger’s an asshole” was the first thing I heard come out of Shonna’s mouth. “Mr. Supreme Assedness decreed there would be no dogs last night. I told him I’ve had a dog since I was seven and will continue to have one until I’m dead.”
“Oh, no. You’re drinking Tanqueray, aren’t you?”
“Oh, yeah. And then he proceeded to say, ‘I gave in twice, I’m not giving in again.’ I’ve already starting drinking to combat his ass cooties. Hopefully I will become a cheerful drunk and not cry divorce as soon as His Assedness comes home. I might be permanently not speaking to Mr. Giant Ass.”
I knew Shonna was devastated over losing her dog last year. For as long as I’d known her, she’d had one.
“So why not just go get one?”
“I could, but it’s a matter of respect. Has he asked me why I want a dog? Has he asked me why having a dog is so important? No. I put up with his ham radio shit everywhere and living in a town I hate. He can damn well let me have my dog. If he gave a rat’s ass about my safety he would!”
“I’ve dealt with Mr. Assedness the Second tonight.”
“What’s the A-hole done now?” Shonna asked.
I shared what happened on the bench. “And it wasn’t just any bench. It was the bench.”
“Why are men such assholes?” Shonna said. “I just took a quiz on Facebook that told me what my relationship status would be next year. I’m hoping it’s right. It said Alone with No One. I hope that doesn’t mean you.”
“You will always have me. Besides, those quizzes are stupid. It told me I’d be married next year. Now that’s a joke!”
We laughed and by the time I turned off the TV to fall asleep, I felt better. Talking to your bestie can do that. Your day can be crappy and a convo with your bestie can part the clouds and let the sun shine through.
The next morning, I stood naked in front of the mirror. I felt each breast, paying particular attention to the right one. The suspicious one. The one that might be cancerous. It didn’t look any different than the other breast, but I knew it was. It reminded me of the time when Shonna and I were little and we picked up chestnuts in her grandmother’s yard. We each had a chestnut and they looked the same. But when we peeled them, I had a worm in mine. I almost ate it, too, but, fortunately for me, Shonna saw the worm wiggle and knocked the chestnut out of my hand. I smiled at the memory. She’d saved me from lots of worms in my life, but I didn’t know if she could save me from this one. Cancer, I knew, was one big fat worm that ate through everything good until there was nothing left.
I finished brushing my teeth and hopped in the shower. I met David and Mike in the hotel restaurant for breakfast. Tory’s graduation ceremony started at noon.
“So, how did you sleep last night?” Mike asked.
What do you care, A-hole? “Great. How about you guys?”
I looked at David. He had balloon curtains under his eyes and he yawned. “I’d forgotten how bad Dad snores.”
I knew exactly what David was talking about. Mike’s snoring was so loud even Muffin had stopped sleeping in our room long before I’d vacated it for the guest bedroom.
“Well, you’ll rest better tonight because you’ll be in your old bed.”
David nodded.
“You can always sleep at my condo,” Mike said.
“That’s all right, Dad. Mom’s got more room.”
“For now,” Mike muttered. His response was fat with attitude.
David looked at me and I rolled my eyes.
“Isn’t it great Mom’s working out, going to run a marathon?”
Mike coughed and his coffee went all over his pants. Yes! Serves you right, you A-hole.
“You’re going to run a marathon?” He grabbed the green cloth napkin on the table and dabbed his pants.
I mustered every ounce of confidence I had bef
ore I replied. “Absolutely.” While I’d told him about wanting to move, I hadn’t said anything about working out or training for a marathon.
Mike laid the napkin on the table. “Good thing I brought another pair of pants. I’ll go change.”
“Maybe you want to wait,” I said.
Mike flashed me a confused look.
“Well, you never know what other news you might hear that’ll surprise you. Might want to wait until after you’ve finished eating.”
David laughed and I knew he was trying to cut the tension that had grown exponentially in milliseconds. Then I felt bad I was acting so childish.
“If you’d feel better changing, Mike, go ahead. We’ll wait for you to order.”
Mike looked at me and then at David. “No, I think I’ll wait.”
You always were a messy eater, I thought.
By the time the waitress came to take our order, I was on my third cup of coffee.
“How much of that stuff do you drink in a day?” Mike asked.
It’s none of your business. “Sometimes as much as ten cups.”
“Ten cups!”
I laughed. “I’m joking. I don’t know. A few.”
Again, David stepped in to alleviate the tension. “That’s nothing, Mom. I drink at least twice that and a down an energy drink most afternoons.”
“That’s not good, David,” Mike said. “You need to take care of yourself so when you’re my age you look just as good as your old man.”
Now it was my turn to choke on my coffee, but I managed to mash my lips together and swallow.
Thank God it didn’t take long for our food to arrive. I wasn’t sure how much more of Mike I could take. Well, one thing was certain: He was still an asshole. Sometimes I thought about when we were younger and just married. He was so different then. I guess I was, too. But then he changed and I guess I didn’t and he resented me for that. He wanted me to be something I wasn’t, and I wanted him to be something he once was. That formula never works out.
After eating breakfast, David and I waited in the lobby for Mike to change his clothes.
“You okay, Mom?” David asked.
I nodded. “I’m fine, honey. Don’t worry about me and your father. We haven’t gotten along in years so why should things suddenly change. But I want you to know, David, that you and Tory are the best things that ever happened to me and, at the end of the day, I have your father to thank for that. I loved him once and, well, it just didn’t work out.”
David nodded and I knew he understood. He’d been around the two of us enough to know we were better off apart then together.
Mike drove and I sat in back so David could sit up front.
“Parking lot looks full,” Mike said.
David pointed to the right “There’s one, Dad.”
We pulled into the parking space and headed toward the stadium.
“What side of the field did Tory say she’d be on?” I asked.
“The left,” David said. “Follow me.”
We followed David to a great spot a few rows up from the fifty-yard line. When the band started to play the Pomp and Circumstance March and the graduates began filing in, I started to cry. David was between me and Mike and wrapped his arm around my shoulder. Mike looked over and smiled.
“There she is!” Mike pointed to the right.
David dropped his arm and stood up, shouting Tory’s name until she glanced up to see us all waving.
I wasn’t prepared for the sadness I felt watching my baby girl graduate. I suppose it’s because another milestone was being reached and this one would take her away from me. I remembered waiting for Tory to walk. She took forever. Some of my friends who had girls said they walked when they were nine months old. Tory didn’t walk until she was thirteen months old. I remembered being worried something was wrong, but I think she just enjoyed scooting everywhere on her bottom. But my point is, I couldn’t wait for her to walk and didn’t realize when she did that her natural curiosity would lead her in directions I didn’t want her to go. Eventually, though, I had to let go.
And I realized I had to do that now. Not only for Tory, but also for me. I was ready to focus on me and more determined than ever, after Mike’s snide comment at breakfast, to run a marathon. For some reason it was important for me to show him I wasn’t some sort of meek cafeteria monitor, but an intelligent businesswoman who was just as bright as he was, but had chosen children over career.
We watched as the graduates were called to the makeshift stage on the field to accept their diplomas. It was Tory’s turn.
“Tory Elizabeth Eyster,” the announcer said.
We stood and cheered and hugged one another. I even hugged Mike, who, by the surprised look on his face, had not been expecting it.
There were hundreds of kids graduating so the ceremony took a couple hours. We met Tory afterward to take photos.
I hugged my little girl. “We’re so proud of you, honey.”
“Not bad, sis,” David said. “Welcome to the club.”
Tory rolled her eyes. “Thanks… I think.”
We spent the next twenty minutes meeting Tory’s friends and taking photos. By the time we arrived at the inn to eat, I was hungry again. Mike had arranged for a beautiful bouquet to be delivered to our table for Tory.
“They’re beautiful, Dad. Thank you.”
They were gorgeous, a colorful spring mix that featured pastel colors.
Dinner went a lot better than breakfast. Mike and I didn’t snarl at one another and he managed to eat without getting anything on his pants.
“So, you and Dad ate here when you graduated, right?” Tory asked.
“Yep,” Mike said. “It’s a family tradition.”
The word family seemed wrong for some reason. We were no longer a family. Not really. That classification ended when Mike decided he’d be better off with his secretary. Too bad that didn’t turn out.
I handed Tory a bag containing her gift. A huge smile sprung from her face. “I’ve been looking forward to getting this, Mom.”
I sipped my coffee. “I hope you like it.”
We watched as Tory carefully peeled back the paper. “Love the pink paper, Mom.”
Tory opened the box and her eyes widened. She brushed her hand over the top. “I don’t want to get it out here because I don’t want to chance spilling something on it. But it’s beautiful, Mom. I recognize my old Brownie uniform.”
“Thanks. I hope it’s everything you expected.”
Tory put the lid back on the box and put it inside the bag. Mike handed her his gift. Tory opened his card and her eyes got even wider than when she opened my gift.
“Dad,” Tory said. “That’s too much money.”
Mike smiled. I couldn’t help feeling like he’d outdone me. I figured he’d given Tory the same amount he’d given David, and let’s just say it was more than I had in my savings account. Mike glanced over at me and smiled and I wanted to spit in his face, but I didn’t. I didn’t know why I let him get to me. In all honesty, I was jealous of him. Jealous he was able to give the kids more than I could financially. While I’d received a fair settlement in our divorce, I’d never make the kind of money he made, never be able to give the kids what he could. I think David noticed my mood had shifted and he directed our attention back to the quilt.
“I don’t know what I would’ve done if I hadn’t had the quilt Mom made me last winter,” David said. “It sure kept me warm during what turned out to be one of the harshest Chicago winters in history.”
I glanced over at David and smiled. “Thanks, honey.”
Tory, taking the cue from David, held up the bag. “I can’t wait to spread it out on my bed and look at the patches more closely.”
I excused myself from the table to use the restroom and on my way back I ran into a girl I recognized.
“Rebecca?”
She stopped and looked at me. “Scarlett?”
/>
I laughed. “Yes. I haven’t seen you since graduation. How have you been?”
By the time I returned to the table, the waiter had cleared the dishes leaving only the coffee cups behind.
“I was just about ready to go looking for you, Mom,” Tory said.
“I ran into someone I haven’t seen since I graduated.” I turned to Mike. “Do you remember Rebecca? She lived downstairs from me and married one of your fraternity brothers.”
Mike thought for a minute.
“His name was Brad and he was a huge guy. Played football.”
“Oh, yes,” Mike said. “Brad Baker. Is he here?”
I nodded. “Their son graduated, too. They’re sitting on the other side of the dining room near the fireplace.”
“I’ll definitely have to stop by when we’re done.”
The waiter returned. “Would anyone like dessert?”
We all declined and sat for a few more minutes, going over our plans to move Tory the following weekend.
“Sorry I couldn’t stay to help move you, Tor,” David said.
Tory waved. “No biggie. It’ll just give you a good reason to visit after I get settled it. Flights from Chicago aren’t that expensive right now. I checked.”
Mike went to say hello to Brad and David and I walked Tory back to her apartment before leaving.
“Why don’t I drive home, Mom,” David said.
“Are you sure you don’t mind? I know you didn’t sleep well last night.”
“I’m fine. I got a second wind after drinking all that coffee at dinner.”
I sighed. “Okay. I could use a nap.”
The last thing I remember is heading over the mountain. Two hours later, I felt David shaking my arm. “Mom, we’re home.”
“Crap! I forgot to tell you to go to the kennel first. We need to pick up Muffin.”
David backed out of the driveway and thirty minutes later we were headed home with Muffin. This time, I was the one driving and Muffin sat on David’s lap.
Seeing Muffin with David and Tory always warmed my heart. Like me, Muffin was happier when they were around.
Tory would be home in a couple of days and a few more days after that David would be leaving. I was looking forward to having both of them home at the same time – something that rarely happened.
A Year of Second Chances Page 7
