by Leanne Davis
Leila came over to the couch and sat right next to him, gripping his hand. “You suffered for Tony’s problems too. I know that. We never expected you to give us any trouble. You’re right. And you never have. This happened not because you failed us, but because it’s life, honey. We can’t dismiss you and your problems just because we dealt with Tony and his for so many years. Right, Lewis?”
His dad nodded his head in affirmation. When he spoke, his voice was low and even. “We aren’t done being parents, Donny. No matter how old you get. And yes, Tony took a lot more out of us than you ever did. He was always more volatile and moody. Then, after the injury… well, we all know what that was like. You did more for him than anyone could expect. So did we. But that doesn’t mean we’re ‘tired’ of being parents. You’re our son too. You have stuff to deal with… we’re here. The basement? Yours, if you want it.”
Donny cringed. “No. I hope it never comes to that. But thank you all the same. It means a lot to me.” His heart lifted. His father rarely made speeches, and usually answered any questions with one word. He didn’t express himself a lot. That was a huge milestone for him and Donny didn’t miss it. Tony’s seclusion and normal silence came directly from their father. Donny took his kind words to heart.
Leila nodded. “I can’t believe all this. Tracy? She must be a wreck. Micah seemed like the most normal, upstanding man I’ve met in a long time. He seemed so exceptional. As a man and as a father.”
“I considered him my best friend.”
“How are Tracy and her kids?”
“Not good. You can imagine. She can’t make sense of it. And then, well, I’ve been at her house more often so she could take care of Julia.”
“You really should have told us what was going on. We can take Julia. She can start coming here. And Donny? Why not move into the basement for awhile? We can help you with Julia, and you can replenish your finances. It’s not like what Tony did. You aren’t hiding, just re-grouping.”
“Thank you. I will take you up on Julia. But let me see if there is another option before I move into my parents’ basement.”
Leila leaned over and grabbed Julia, bringing her onto her lap. “So, Vickie has… problems?”
He grunted. “She is a walking problem, Mom. I know you like her, but she can’t manage alcohol, money, time, relationships or motherhood. I realized some of it before I married her, but afterwards, all of it kept culminating. Then I discovered her secret. The drinking? No one knew it was a problem. Not even her sisters.”
“Poor Gayle. How is she dealing with two daughters being in such messes?”
“Gayle isn’t you. They don’t deal. They pretend I’m wrong about Vickie and they haven’t done anything different for Tracy. It’s disgraceful. They aren’t my biggest fans right now.”
Leila’s eyebrows wrinkled. “I have to admit, I like them, but I find her a little namby-pamby for my taste. She seemed to cater exclusively to Vickie and expected monumental things out of Gretchen, even when Gretchen was a teen. She was responsible for Vickie, not Gayle. And Tracy? I think she was more of an afterthought.”
An afterthought. That was it. That was how they treated Tracy. And how he treated Tracy. That’s how even Vickie treated her. Gretchen was the sister who Vickie tried to hide things from. Tracy? She didn’t put much stock either way into what Tracy said or did. Micah was the only one who never treated her as the middle, ordinary, forgettable child. Micah never would have called her an afterthought.
Why now did Donny feel so differently about her? She was so extraordinary in how she dealt with kids, his own especially, that he wondered how he could have ever overlooked her. Did they realize how wrong they all were about Tracy?
“So what now?”
“Now, I wait for Vickie to get out of rehab and see where we are. I’m putting my house up for sale and intend to find a small, cheap apartment for now. I haven’t told Vickie any of this yet.”
“Don’t sell the house. I think you should let us loan you the money. What if this all turns around in a few months? Or a year? I hate for you to sell your house. You worked so hard to get it, Donny. We were so proud of you. While so many adult kids that age were floating around or living with their parents, you were buying your own house. Don’t lose it now. Not when we can help you,” Leila reassured him.
Lewis nodded. “I get your pride, but you have a daughter to think about. She deserves a safe place to live. And what about Vickie? Coming home needs to be as calm as you can make it. You don’t want to have your house sold. We’ll cover the business. If, in a reasonable amount of time you feel like you can’t turn it around, then we’ll talk about selling the house.”
Donny’s stomach cramped at the thought. He’d never taken money from anyone, especially his parents. It was sticking point. Tony did that, but not he. He loved his brother but decided long ago not to follow his example. He tried to think about others a little more than Tony did. Tony was starting to now, but that wasn’t how he automatically lived his life. Donny did.
So agreeing to take a substantial amount of money from his parents made his heart plummet into his stomach. How could he let himself get into that position? Micah? Vickie? Tracy? He could blame them, but in the end, it was he who made the decisions that got him there. And his parents were right, Vickie needed stability, and so did Julia. It wasn’t just about him anymore. The concept of parenthood, and having his own family, weighed heavily on him. He truly had no idea how he was changing his life when he carelessly had wild sex with Vickie Moore. It all culminated to this very moment. His biggest failure, and embarrassment.
“Okay. Thank you. I’ll take your money and your help.”
****
Tracy glanced up after hearing a knock at the front door. It had to be Donny. It was almost ten o’clock at night, and he only half knocked on her front door. She was used to his constant comings and goings. She opened the door in her PJs, something he was now accustomed to also since she was usually dressed in them when he dropped off Julia every morning.
He looked like hell, which was unprecedented for Donny. Usually, he kept his hair trimmed and styled. He wore nice clothes. He always looked white-collar, business ready. He was casual enough, but always neat and dressed in fashionable garments. Not like the half-assed slob Tracy was becoming since Micah left. She sometimes still went days without putting on even a pair of jeans.
“Donny? What are you doing here? Where’s Julia?”
He stepped past her without waiting for her to invite him in. She leapt out of his way. He seemed oblivious to her as he stomped into the kitchen, saying over his shoulder, “She’s at my mom’s for the night. Good thing, she’ll be there from now on. You’re free now. Free of my annoying rug-rat, cramping your lifestyle. No more diapers. No more car seat.”
Tracy followed at a distance. Donny seemed in a foul mood. A really, bad and sour mood. He started looking all around the kitchen. In cabinets, under the sink, over the refrigerator, muttering as he banged the cabinet doors.
“Uh, Donny? What are you looking for?”
“Alcohol. You have any? My house doesn’t have any thanks to my lovely wife.”
“Top left cabinet.” She didn’t mention he could have simply bought some at a store. “Is that really what you want? Considering…”
He stopped banging around and leaned his hands on the counter to glare at her. “Considering my wife is an alcoholic and in rehab right now? Or that it’s ruining my life, and my daughter’s life? Well, hell, I’m not a damn alcoholic. It’s never been an issue for me. Neither has money. Or debt. Or losing my house. But you know what? All those have become issues for me now. Every single one of them.”
He found the stash of hard liquor left over from Micah. Micah really didn’t drink much, and neither did Tracy, beyond the casual glass of wine or beer when vacationing or hanging out in a social situation. They didn’t drink during the week, or by themselves. It was truly not an issue for either of them. He poured the amber Chivas Regal int
o a glass he nearly shattered after slamming it on the counter. Muttering to himself, he stared down at the liquid, “Should have known the prick would only drink the best. Like drinking freaking gold.”
“Prick” must have been a referral to her husband. Donny was right; the whiskey was only used for really special occasions. She finally ceased trying to figure out what Donny was doing here. She simply sat down at the bar stool and decided to observe whatever he did next. The nice thing was: Donny wasn’t her husband or brother or a definitive friend. She didn’t have to care whatever he did or didn’t do. She didn’t have to care her hair was pulled into a hasty bun, and she was still rumpled from lying in bed earlier with the girls.
He downed one shot with a near smack of his lips. Pouring another, he finally raised his eyes to hers and waved his hand in her general direction. “Were you in bed?”
“No. Just finished saying goodnight to the girls. They were up late, and quite upset.”
“What was it tonight? Hard homework? Crying over missing fuck-nuts? Displaced anger at you over their father abandoning them? What trauma did you get the pleasure of resolving tonight?” He crossed around the bar and sat down next to her. “Tell me, Tracy, what heroic thing did you do tonight? Was it something else that not one other adult in this world knows you do?”
Huh? What was he talking about? Was he okay? Heroic thing she did? What was he smoking tonight? “Um, just a little talk with Kylie again, reminding her that her father still loves her, but can’t be here. Ally got her homework done on her own.”
“Let me guess, when you talk to them, you don’t call him names. You don’t blame him. You just say he made a mistake, as if he forgot to pick up the dry cleaning for you.”
“I don’t know. I just talk to her.”
He smacked the glass on the granite counter. She flinched, waiting for it to shatter. “That’s the damn thing, isn’t it? No one knows how you just talk to them. How you perform miracles every single day. No one notices.” He suddenly turned on the stool, placing his face right into hers. His eyes glared with an intensity that was rare for Donny. As was his anger. And his tone. And his all around, unsettling behavior. What happened tonight?
“Why is that, Tracy? Why were Gretchen, Vickie and Micah the wonderful ones to your parents? And even to outside people? Why did no one ever notice you?” He spoke softly now, which was so at odds with the anger and nearly violent jerks of his movements.
“I-I have no idea.”
“Someone should have a freaking clue of what you do.”
She chewed on her lip. Wow, what happened tonight? She never heard Donny like this. “What are you doing here? What happened?”
His mouth, now inches from hers, pursed as he frowned and stared down at his drink. They were close. Way too close. She suddenly felt too hot, sitting there in her kitchen right next to Donny.
“What hasn’t happened? I got the pleasure of hearing my parents offer me their basement to live in. Instead, I accepted a substantial amount of money from them.”
Her heart tripped. Oh. That’s what was wrong. He had the unenviable pleasure of that conversation. The one where the child gets to shatter his parents’ image of him. She understood that conversation.
His knee was close to her leg. The way they were sitting, with her half turned toward him it made his knee brush between hers. She gulped hard at the contact and stated the obvious. “They’re home?”
“Yeah,” he snorted, taking a drink. His throat vibrated as he tilted his head back and poured more alcohol down it. She shifted her gaze away and increased the space between them. “I got to tell them the whole twisted tale. Do it sometime. The whole thing all together really makes you feel like a foolish prick. I did that. All of it. I can’t really blame Vickie or Micah over me being on the brink of losing my home and business. The blame really lies at my feet. I married her. I gave Micah my money. I knocked up a woman I didn’t really know. I don’t think I looked up long enough from her pussy to even realize what color eyes she had. I mean, Fuck! What kind of marriage is based on that? Did you listen to me then? When was I ever like that? It wasn’t real. It was all an illusion. I lost my mind for a few months, and now, my entire life is ruined. She will ruin me. She already has almost.”
Whoa. Tracy’s mouth dropped open and now she didn’t know what to say, or even how to close her mouth. Donny never spoke that way. Never so rude and crude and… honestly. It might have been the first time she ever heard him speak what was on his mind without thinking it out first. But Vickie was her sister. Her little sister he was so critical of. And painting so disgusting a picture of.
“Donny! You can’t talk like that about her. Especially to me, she’s my sister.”
He suddenly twisted around on the stool, nearly knocking her off with how close he was. “She is. How is that possible? How can you two be sisters?”
“What kind of question is that? Just because we’re different—”
“Different?” Donny snorted. “You’re not even from the same species.”
“Are you insulting me or her?”
He lowered his glass and turned to her as his gaze slowly scanned her face before dropping to the top of her modest t-shirt. “Well, I’m not insulting you, if that helps clear things up.”
She felt her eyes widen and she held Donny’s gaze, feeling horrified. “I know her problems, well, okay, the drinking is new, and I have to get used to that. But I’ve always known she can be a problem. It doesn’t change how much I love her.”
“Yeah? Well, it might mean I don’t.”
Shocked silence ended his proclamation. Tracy shook her head vigorously, “You let her. You chose to have sex with her. You chose not to wear protection. You chose to marry her and take on her debts. She is the mother of your child. You cannot talk about her like that.”
“How should I talk about her then? As the caring mother of my baby who bathes her, comforts her, feeds and tends to her all day long? As the woman who I can entrust to take care of my child while I’m gone all day, working overtime to pay off her debts? As the woman who keeps my child safe? Oh, wait; that’s not Vickie. That’s you.”
She shifted around on the seat, completely uncomfortable with Donny’s description and the way his stare was drilling into her. “Temporarily. Yes. It is. But she’ll be home soon. Things will change. Things will get better.”
“Yeah? And what if I don’t want them to?”
“Wh-What do you mean? Of course, you want them to. Of course, you want Vickie to get better.”
He stared at her. The ensuing silence felt like it would choke her. How could a sound, or lack thereof, create such a physical sensation inside of her?
“Of course. That’s the only decent answer, right? And that’s us, isn’t it? We always do the right thing, huh, Tracy?”
She nodded. “Yes, and it’s a good thing we do. We don’t need more bad decisions than have already riddled our families.”
“But what if I simply don’t want her back? What if I don’t want to do the right thing? What if doing the wrong thing sounds so much better?”
Tracy turned her head away from him. She stared down at the swirls in her countertop, tracing one with her finger. “You don’t mean that. What is all this about?”
He sighed and finally shifted forward too. He cupped his glass in his hands. “I was just never supposed to be the failure. That was reserved for my brother. And yet, here I am.”
“I understand why it feels that way, after talking to your parents, but no one thinks you failed. It’s just a rough patch. Hard times. No one thinks you are the screw-off.”
“Taking thousands from my parents? How is that not a failure?”
“It’s just temporary.”
“What if it’s not? And Vickie? There is nothing temporary about her personality. I just can’t believe she is such a controlling factor in my life.”
“Yes, well, now you see why I spent nearly a month straight just crying.”
&nbs
p; “I don’t want to cry. I want to hit something. In ways I’ve never felt the need to before. Good news is: I’m keeping my house for now. All ready and waiting for her to come home to. And the sad part is: she’ll never have a clue what I had to go through to keep it for her. Or what I’m losing.”
“Your parents are good people.”
“They are. First, they got to take care of their adult son, Tony. Now they get me.”
“No. Not like Tony. You didn’t bring this on yourself.”
“Well, no shit, but neither did Tony.”
She sent him a scowl. “I meant, Tony wasn’t trying to get better. You will. You’re just, having a rough patch. I really think it’ll all get better.”
He let out a laugh that sounded like a bitter snarl. “Like your situation? Is that going to get better?”
She tucked her legs under her and hunkered down on the stool. “Now you’re just dragging me into your pity-party.”
He slid the glass to her. She frowned. “Somehow, when your sister is in rehab for drowning her problems in liquor, I don’t think it’s a good idea to drown mine.”
“There again. You are not your sister. Drink it.”
She turned the glass so her lips didn’t touch where his were. That would be… a little too close for comfort.
The fiery liquid made her shudder and cringe as it went down. She choked and hacked on the sharp taste. “I’m not much for hard alcohol.”
“Yet another reason why I like you.”
Her mouth tilted up in a half smile. “You mean, it’s not just my sparkling personality?”
He still didn’t smile, but his gaze held hers. “Yes. On top of your sparkling personality.”
Why didn’t his tone sound even remotely like he was kidding? Why was he staring at her like that? It was as if some kind of drape was finally removed and he was clearly seeing her for the first time ever. She didn’t like it. She was dumpy and rumpled, and ready for bed. His intensity was way too much for ten-thirty at night. She cleared her throat. “I’m really glad you won’t lose your house, whatever the solution involves.”
