by Leanne Davis
“No, I have to do this,” she said in a scathing tone.
“Yes. You do,” he stated simply. The girls had gone to school. And again, she already had a crying jag and screaming match at Micah. After ignoring Julia, she felt so guilty about it, she got down on the floor and played with her for an hour. Now, finally, Julia napped. Micah and Tracy were trying to go over everything. Every last detail of their lives. Did she know the bills were electronically paid? No. She had no idea Micah paid them like that. She didn’t know that the furnace filter had to be changed once a year either. She had no concept of anything, much less, the magnitude of what was to come.
“The house?” She finally dared to ask the question she feared most.
He nodded. “I haven’t paid the mortgage in a few months.”
“So you just quit paying the mortgage?”
“Yes.” Her cheeks flushed in stressed out heat. What a moron she was. How could she not have known that?
She leveled a glare at him. “I don’t know you at all, do I?”
He closed his eyes. No doubt, he was becoming weary of her psychotic switching from evil tongue-lashing to almost desperate clinging and needy tears. She just could not comprehend their new situation. “Maybe not. But you can do this, Tracy. I need to know you can handle this.”
“And if I can’t? What are you going to do about it? You will be in jail. There is no changing that.”
“I think we’ll have to borrow money from your parents or Gretchen. We have to tell them.”
“Have you told your family?”
He hesitated, then answered, “No. I haven’t.”
“I can’t ask my parents for money,” she finally said after a stifling silence.
“We might have to.”
She shuddered at the thought. Her parents would help her, of course, but she was the daughter who never asked for anything. She never needed anything from them. How could she come to them for a chunk of money now, of all things? Micah had taken good care of her since she was twenty years old. How could she suddenly be desperate for money?
She glared at her husband, snapping her hand out from under his. “You know what is most shocking about all this? How embarrassed I am for you. To be married to you. That is what feels most foreign to me.”
He nodded. “You’re right.”
“I hate you.” She nearly hissed at him.
He didn’t respond, but finally rose to his feet. “I think this is enough for now. I have to meet with Donny at my office and I have a few more things to clean up at work. Will you be okay for a little while?”
“Does your company know?”
“Not yet. You think they’d let me near their clients or business if they did? I’d be locked in an office, waiting on the cops in five minutes.”
She snorted. “Like you deserve. Why did this client give you a week? Why the hell would anyone do that?”
He sighed and stared out the window. “Because he’s my dad.”
Her mouth fell open. More. There was always more. It just kept getting worse. “Your dad? Did you make that up?”
“No. I was stealing money from him too. He crapped on me my entire life, but still entrusted me with his damn fortune. It’s a lot more than you could ever guess, Tracy. More than I ever comprehended. He was on the ground floor of a company that manufactures science and research tools. It exploded in the late nineties. He is a wealthy man, but he never shared a penny with me.”
“Oh? So you decided to steal it from him?”
His jaw tightened. “Maybe. Yeah. I did. I screwed up. I get that. But I went to him a year ago for help, and he said no. He even laughed in my face. I told him we were going to lose everything, and his granddaughters would soon be homeless. His response? Maybe I finally learned something significant. So I took whatever I needed, and he found out last week. He confronted me. I could pay him back or go to jail. I obviously can’t pay him back. So…”
“What? Why didn’t you tell me this from the start?”
“Because I already guessed what you’d think about my crime.”
She didn’t know him. “What else is there? What else don’t I know?” she whispered, dropping her head and looking very sad. Was she so depressed she couldn’t manage to even hold her head up anymore?
“He elected to send me to jail, but was kind enough to give me a week to deal with you and the girls. He thinks that’s his good deed.”
“It is. Listen to yourself. You think you’re the victim? Your dad is. You stole. You’re corrupt. It doesn’t matter whom you took it from. You shouldn’t have lost our money or Donny’s. But you could have just told everyone about it. You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know. But I really thought I could get the money back before he even realized I took it. He has enough. There was no reason he couldn’t have helped us.”
“Us? There was no us in this. Apparently, there isn’t much of an us anymore.”
“There is. You and the girls are the only reason I did it. I just wanted to rectify some of the mistakes I made. He could have let me off. He could have let it go. He could have forgiven me. But instead, he chose to send me to prison over it. That’s fucked up.”
“No, Micah, what you did is.”
She stood up and planted her hands on the table. “I can’t even look at you. You disgust me. I can’t believe this is you. My husband.”
“I'm not supposed to tell you either. That was his condition of the week. I could not tell you or Mom or Phillip what happened. Why? My guess is he knows they would all try to stop him. But if he finds out I told you, he’ll immediately call the police. His case is strong enough that it would mean years in prison for me.”
“Are there others?”
“Yes. Big clients. I took minimal amounts. They don’t even know it. Their monthly balances go up and down so regularly, they never check the details. I thought I could ride it out. I’d replace it all. If he’d just—”
She literally stuck her hands over her ears. “I will not listen again to what everyone else should do about this. You did it. You did wrong.”
“So wrong that I should go to prison? All that does is punish you. It leaves you having to deal with everything. That seems more wrong to me. If he’d only given me some time, I might have been able to fix it.”
She felt the color draining from her face, and thought she was about to pass out. “You really don’t understand what you’ve done, do you?”
He went around the table and pulled her up to her feet before taking her face in his hands. He made her eyes meet his. “I love you. I will fix this for you. Somehow. Some way.”
“I don’t believe you for a second.”
He gently touched his lips to her forehead as she stood their stoically. “I know. I love you,” he whispered again. As he gently let her go, he looked at her again and stepped around her. She didn’t watch him leave. She leaned her hands on the back of the dining room chair and hunched her shoulders forward, feeling a sense of overwhelming defeat that had recently become her constant companion.
****
When Tracy answered the door after a loud pounding, she was nearly shoved into the wall. Donny pushed it open hard before stomping into the entryway.
“Where the hell is he?” Donny grumbled.
“Oh, nice to see you too,” Tracy sputtered out sarcastically. “And your daughter’s just fine. You’re welcome for feeding her, bathing her, and loving her when you and your wife are too busy to.”
Donny’s rude expression dropped. “I’m sorry, Trace. It’s been the shittiest day of my entire life. I know, for you, too. I just waited over an hour for Micah at his office and he never showed up.”
“Never showed up? He left here two hours ago to meet with you.”
Donny froze. Was he purposely making his face appear blank and neutral? “He hasn’t been to his office today. No one has seen him.”
Tracy’s heart started pumping faster. Her pulse raced and her mind simply couldn’t co
mprehend his words. “Wh-what are you saying?”
“I don’t know. I just know where he is not. Call his phone.”
She turned toward the console table in the entryway, groping for her cell, and hit the speed dial number for Micah as soon as she found it. It rang and rang until his voicemail clicked on. She called three more times. Her hand started to shake as she lowered the phone and raised her stricken gaze to Donny.
He swore under his breath.
“Where do you think he is?”
Donny’s expression softened at her voice. He grabbed her elbow and pulled her towards the couch. “I think… well, I think he might be gone, Tracy.”
“Gone?” Her head started to fill with a kind of white noise. She couldn’t make sense of Donny. Her head was muddled and his words sounded so far away.
“Tracy? Breathe. You have to breathe.” Donny shook her gently. She nearly hyperventilated as she took in a series of fast, sharp breaths. She lowered her head to her knees before raising her gaze to hold Donny’s.
“What do you mean gone? Like how?”
He sighed. “I don’t know exactly. Have you checked around?”
“For what?” she nearly screamed insanely at him.
“For a note? His suitcase? I don’t know. Anything. I didn’t take the gun that day. Do you know where it is?”
She jumped to her feet and ran into the bedroom. Donny followed her. The gun was still in its lock-box in the nightstand drawer. Her heart simply crumbled into her guts. She fell onto the side of the bed, staring at the gun. “No. Where is he? What is he doing? I yelled at him. Terrible things. Oh, God…”
Donny’s voice stopped her cold. “Tracy, there’s a note on your bed.”
Donny held it out to her. An envelope was sealed with her name on it. She took it between her thumb and forefinger and just stared at it. Was this Micah’s suicide note? “What do you think it is?”
Donny’s expression was bleak. When he raised his eyes to hers, she could tell he didn’t want to reply; but he thought he knew the answer, and felt nothing but pity for her. Her hand shook as she took the envelope. What? What was it? And why couldn’t her brain process that something very, very bad was about to be revealed to her? No, she felt a detached numbness settling in the base of her skull that soon spread to the rest of her body.
She shoved the paper at Donny. “I can’t. I can’t read it.”
He hesitated, but finally took it and tore open the letter. He lowered his gaze after a long profound glance at her. With a noticeable swallow, he shook his head, as if to fortify his emotions before he pulled out the sheet of paper. Then he started to read.
Tracy,
It became clear to me last night that I can’t go to prison. I don’t think I could handle it. I wanted to pull that fucking trigger yesterday. But I chickened out of that too. I have no words for what I’ve done to you. To our kids. To the rest of our life. But I can do this for you. I can stop this.
I’m gone. I ran. I’m in hiding. Don’t look for me. You won’t find me. I’ve created an entirely new identity and hopefully, a new life.
I’m sorry. The weakest words in the English language. But I am. I love you. I love Ally and Kylie, but I can’t face this. I can’t go to jail. Know that I never meant for it to end up like this. I never meant to hurt you or us. I will forever love you and both our daughters. Please tell them that, even if I don’t deserve it.
Nothing in my life matters now. Whether you believe it or not, this is how I think I best end this for you, the kids, and yes, myself.
He didn’t even sign his name to it. Donny slowly lowered the paper and his expression was stricken. He looked shocked, with both sympathy and horror.
Micah had simply left her.
Tracy bent over as a stabbing, sharp pain started in her stomach. She closed her eyes and tasted bile climbing up her throat. He left her. He was gone. For good. The sound she uttered from her throat was something between a sob and an animalistic cry of severe injury.
Donny grabbed her and pulled her next to him. His arms surrounded her as his voice whispered into her ear. “Breathe, Trace. Please. You’re going to pass out. Come on, breathe for me.”
She couldn’t. She was suffocating. She was going to die. The pain. The betrayal. The reality of his abandonment would literally kill her.
She loved him. After everything, she still loved Micah and yet… he left her. He walked out of the kitchen today, fully intending to never see her again. And he only paused momentarily. A small hesitation. That realization made her legs collapse. Donny’s arms tightened around her as he held her up. She didn’t sense his presence. Or his support. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Nothing again could ever matter.
She started to cry. What else was new? All she’d done for the last four days was cry. She was close to dehydration at some point. No human could possibly survive after losing as much water as she had with her tears.
She vaguely felt her mattress pressing against the back of her legs, her butt, and finally her back as Donny’s arms let her go. He pulled up covers and kept talking to her. She had no idea what he was saying. He left; then he came back. He helped her swallow something with some cool water.
She curled up into a ball and simply ceased being.
She heard noises. The girls walked in with a rush of laughing, girly voices. She heard Donny’s voice. She heard Julia cry. Then it got quiet again.
She should have gotten up. She should have greeted her girls. She should have told them their father was gone forever. She didn’t move, however, because she felt half dead. What was wrong with her? Did Donny give her something?
She woke up and it was dark. Sensing a body next to her, she reached out and grew confused.
“I’m here, sis. I’m here for you.”
Gretchen? How?
Lifting her head in confusion, she discovered that it was not Gretchen. It was Vickie. It was Vickie’s long body wrapped around her and holding her tightly as she started to cry again until her chest shook.
“The girls…”
“It’s fine. Donny’s got them. We’ve got it taken care of. We’re here, honey. We’re here.”
Strangely enough, Tracy fell asleep believing that.
Chapter Five
DONNY POURED THE CEREAL for the three girls. All of them watched him quietly. Even Julia seemed to sense that something was going on. Ally and Kylie both frowned with confusion at finding him there, when he greeting them this morning. He slept on the couch. He met the girls after school and explained their mother was really sick and Micah had to go out of town unexpectedly, so they called him to help out.
They originally accepted his explanation without question. But now? They didn’t believe it. Their eyes were suspicious and distrustful of him.
The biggest shock to him was Vickie. He called her after he finally got Tracy calmed down. It took an hour just to get Tracy even coherent enough to swallow the sleeping pill. He didn’t know what else to do. She was unlike herself in a way he’d never known anyone to be in his presence.
Vickie showed up not twenty minutes later. She pretty much bypassed him and needed no further explanation to crawl into bed with her big sister. She held Tracy. She was several inches taller and Tracy curled into her like a trusting child. Donny shut the door on them and marveled how his wife always loved her sisters.
He didn’t even get a second to process the horror of the last two days. The girls got home from school. Julia woke up and he spent the next five hours trying to pretend everything was fine. Normal. Going to be great.
“What’s really going on?” Ally asked, her gaze drilling him. She was the spitting image of Micah except her hair was lighter. She was a pretty girl, athletic, smart and well liked. Her sister was the opposite. Kylie was quiet and reserved, a little clumsy, and very sweet. Kylie had red hair like her mother and the same gray eyes. She was, almost freakily, the spitting image of Tracy.
Ally was strong, confident and outgoing; s
he nearly shadowed her father while trying to emulate him. Losing her father, her mentor, and her idol, would kill Ally. Kylie’s delicate personality would no doubt, be crushed. She internalized everything to the point of feeling responsible for the sun rising or not, in the morning. What would she do after being abandoned by her father? Donny’s throat tightened. Shit. He was just barely a father. How could he tell them? He didn’t, of course. But how should he deal with this now? How could he help these innocent, sweet girls handle the stunning blow he knew was coming their way like a locomotive? It made him want to sit down and huddle into a ball, rather than face what the consequences might be to them.
“Your mom’s having a bad day. Can you let her start feeling better? Then she’ll talk to you. She just needs a little time. Okay?”
Kylie’s expression went from angry to insecure to round-eyed and scared. “Is she dying?”
“What? No! No. It’s nothing like that.” Shit. He was not so good at playing the father of a teenager. He often said the wrong thing… either too much or too little. Or he said stupid things, like almost suggesting their mother was dying.
“Then what?” Ally demanded, one eyebrow rising like a disapproving mother as she rested her hands on her hips.
“It’s just, ah, you see, they had a fight. And things are…” What? Things are terrible. Horrible. Devastating. Things have happened that might emotionally cripple them forever… but again, not his place to say. So again, he didn’t know what to do. Should he keep lying to them? Lying was only a means of protecting them. But still, it was lying.
“Bad. Things are bad and we need to talk.” As one, they all whipped around at Tracy’s voice, except Julia, who spooned yogurt all over her mouth from the highchair.
“Mom?” Kylie’s voice sounded hesitant and scared, and he understood why. Tracy looked like she intended to sit everyone down before announcing she was dying of some horrible disease. She was almost deathly white. Her eyes were rimmed and puffy like Vickie’s after a three-day binge. She still wore the sweats and shirt from a few days ago. Her hair was ratty and chunky around her shoulders. Half of it was stuck in a rubber band, and the rest was matted all over her head.
