by Leanne Davis
“Sometimes,” Kylie mumbled in typical, unsure Kylie-fashion.
Ally nodded. “I do too sometimes. Then others… it’s home, you know?”
“I know. But we can talk about it. The three of us. We can decide what the three of us want to do. We are still a family. With or without Micah, we are a family, and it’s time we started acting like it. We should start eating dinner together at the table again. We need to celebrate the holidays. We need to decide where we want to live. What do you guys say? Can we be a family again?”
Finally, after everything, and all the time that passed, and all the talks and counseling, Kylie cried. Tracy patted her back, “It’s okay, you’ll get used to crying. I do it all the time. So does Ally. Why not make it a threesome?”
Ally finally laughed. Quite strangely, so did Kylie even as she cried and Tracy laughed too. She was not sure why she laughed, other than because the three of them were still in the empty parking lot of the middle school, huddled in the back seat as they screamed, laughed, cried and talked, but finally, after all the long months and all the agony they endured, Tracy felt the first glimmer of hope since the day Micah left.
“I think we can be a family again. I really want that,” Kylie added.
“I do too.” Ally nodded in agreement as Tracy wiped her eyes and smiled.
“Then, from this day forward, that’s what we do. We’re a family. A unit. We work together. Not apart. We talk. We fight. We cry. We laugh. We compromise. And we are not afraid of each other leaving or failing. We get to be ourselves all the time, and trust that the three of us aren’t abandoning each other, agreed?”
Ally threw her hand out and Kylie followed suit as they both nodded at Tracy to do the same. Tracy finally laid her hand over theirs and they all three clasped hands.
But the best part of the day was seeing the tears on her younger daughter’s face replaced by a smile that eventually followed them.
Chapter Fifteen
HE HEARD EVERYTHING COMPLETELY second hand. Donny heard the entire tale of how Tracy and the girls had a revolutionary breakthrough in the parking lot of the school. He heard about their crazy screaming fight and how they ended it by holding hands in the back seat together. He heard Kylie finally spoke and cried about her father and admitted her real fear: after losing one parent, whom she never dreamed would leave; what would keep the other from leaving too? Donny thought it made sense. But still, his heart ached when he pictured them. All three of them finally figuring out together that they had to be a family without Micah. Finally, they were breaking through their grief and finding each other beyond it.
It was a beautiful story.
Donny heard about it from Gayle, while Vickie oohed and ahhed. Never once did Vickie fully understand the magnitude of what happened to Tracy, Ally, and Kylie, or how her sister dealt with it. But he knew. He knew what they suffered through. He tried to hide his interest. He tried not to notice her. He tried even harder not to care.
He tried to be happy that Vickie had not had a single drink in months. He tried to celebrate her four-month mark at home. And she finished all her classes. Now, she daily attended AA meetings. He tried not to judge Vickie, although she still didn’t work or even think about it, despite Donny’s frequent conversations about their critical financial situation. She never really commented when he tried to explain how little money there was, beyond the budget he kept them afloat on. Vickie could not be alone with Julia yet either, so she still wasn’t totally functioning.
Donny tried to ignore how much that bothered him.
But no matter how good he was at pretending, it didn’t change what he really thought and felt. The thing was: no one could ever know.
~Vickie~
Vickie was so tired. In every single way imaginable. She was tired of doing the same thing every rotten day. She was tired of getting up early and going to AA meetings. She was tired of thinking about her problem. She was tired of having her problem. She was tired of trying to care for Julia when nothing came naturally. She was especially tired of the eager look on her mother’s face that indicated how much her mother wanted her to be “fine.”
Donny came home late each evening and she was tired of how much he worked. He was tired too, and seemed to have no interest in her or sex. She could have danced naked before him and he would have barely glanced up from the computer he was incessantly working on. When they did share intimacy, it was always in bed. He just allowed her to roll on top of him and stick it inside her. It was always quick, quiet and totally forgettable.
It was so not enough. Not any of it.
Vickie could not be what everyone wanted her to be. She could not maintain their standards every single day of her life. Why? Why did she have to be like that every single day?
And there was no denying how Julia responded more to her sister, Tracy, than to her. When Tracy’s voice entered a room, Julia’s head whipped around and her big eyes searched everywhere to find her. Julia sought Tracy with a longing and connection that Vickie knew she did not share with her own child.
The thing was: her husband wanted that with Tracy too.
No one else suspected it. Vickie watched her parents and even Tracy, but none of them noticed how Donny stared after her. Vickie may have had a lot of faults, but she wasn’t totally blind or stupid, which she would have had to be for her not to suspect what probably happened while she was away. Her husband, already discontent with her, spent all that time with her now single sister. A sister, that Vickie only recently realized, fit him. Perfectly.
Why had she never thought of it? She truly hadn’t. When she insisted Donny help Tracy out, it never even crossed her mind that Tracy was now a single woman. She didn’t mean it in a bad way, since her older sister had been married and a mother for years. So many years, Vickie never really thought of Tracy as being young or sexy or appealing to men. But in her own way, this new kind of grownup way, perhaps Tracy was.
Donny was overworked and overwrought when Vickie entered rehab. It never once occurred to her, however, that he’d connect with Tracy. They never did before, and of that, she was sure.
But seeing Tracy from Donny’s point of view now, maybe Tracy did possess some good qualities. She was responsible, nurturing, patient, and soft spoken. She was the easiest person in the world to talk to. Everyone wanted to tell her their problems. She listened and sympathized with a genuine warmth and compassion that Vickie never even attempted to have. Tracy was the kind of woman someone like Donny would want long after their night of passion was over.
Donny was a fantastic father and Vickie was well aware of that. She also knew he put her mothering to shame. She wasn’t good at it although she loved Julia. But it was sheer drudgery for her to face every day. There were so many little details she had to attend to, but never really any one important thing that made it worthwhile. She didn’t like it at all. It was confusing how she could love Julia, while she detested all the work associated with her. She thought she would do well as one of those mothers with a nanny always there to help. That way, she could oversee everything, and give out hugs and kisses while fawning over Julia, but the nanny could take care of all the miniscule, mind-numbing problems. Yes, that is what she believed she could do well. But there was no money. So no nanny. Just her mother. All day long. Right there. It was almost worse than being in rehab.
Tracy could do it. She sat all day with babies and toddlers and older kids, as in plural, and seemed happy about doing it. How? Vickie didn’t know. She couldn’t comprehend it.
Yes, Tracy was almost perfect for Donny.
Unlike her. She knew she wasn’t, and never had been. That was the reason for Julia’s existence. She fell in love with Donny and knew within months that she was not what a man like Donny would choose for the long term. He’d tire of her little dramas and unreliability. She was always doing those things and never seemed interested in ceasing them either.
Every single day doing the same thing? That was so boring. It was a deat
h sentence to Vickie. She needed some things to be… different, or challenging and exciting once in awhile. Now, her life held nothing to be excited about. There was nothing to look forward to. It was a grueling existence to her. Bound by all the rules and discipline that kept her sober, she was losing her sanity. But in exchange, she was now well aware of her faults and her total inability to handle real life.
She didn’t really want to deal with it. Not all the time.
She missed spending the entire night just making love. And the hot, unending, crazy sex. She missed that so much. She missed shopping. She missed going out with friends. She missed men. Other men. Yet, she didn’t want to cheat on Donny. She just missed the attention she used to get. The surprised stares as people first glimpsed her. It was the kind of attention that fed something inside her. Something that was needy and greedy and bad. She knew it was bad to want those things.
But she also couldn’t deny how much she wanted them.
It left her totally paralyzed in life and unsure what to feel about her husband’s interest in her sister. The weird part was: she could totally understand it. She wasn’t sure if it was jealousy she felt, or just acceptance, like, “Yeah, that makes sense.”
She was fucked either way because her husband wasn’t in love with her.
Yet, she thought she was in love with Donny. But she feared that being in a monogamous relationship would be a lot like motherhood. She had the strong feelings of love and even wished she wanted to do it. But living the reality of it? She wasn’t so sure. The daily work and routine and compromising and regularity of it seemed awful to her. She wanted nights out and lavish dinners at fancy restaurants. She wanted to dress up and be told how hot, sexy and beautiful she was. She wanted all the fun trappings. She wasn’t so sure she wanted what she had now. She could not shop, since they were broke. She was being urged to work and help provide for them. She was expected to suddenly be responsible. And thrifty. And a mother and wife all day, every day. Even on the days when she didn’t feel like it.
She just wasn’t very confident that she could consistently do the same thing, day in and day out, for the rest of her life.
Or even the rest of the week.
****
Tracy first noticed the man on his second visit. His name was Jim Bruenell and Donny provided computer consulting services for him. When he first came in, she stood up as usual, smiled while greeting him, and offered him coffee while he waited. She casually chatted away the twenty minutes and he eventually stood closer and leaned on the counter, nearer her desk to talk more with her.
The second time he came in, he skipped sitting down and stood right next to her desk. They talked for half an hour because he was forty minutes early for his appointment. Donny came out of his office after getting an important call and asked Jim to come inside. He scowled at Tracy, although she wasn’t quite sure why. Later, when Jim stopped at her desk on his way out and talked and smiled for another twenty minutes, she was sure he was flirting with her. It gave her substantial pause. When was the last time any man flirted with her? It had to have been years. Once in a while, one of Micah’s coworkers might flirt, but it was more in a jovial, kidding, fun kind of way. There was never any trace of sexual intent behind it, or hope of dating Tracy, as they all respected and cared about Micah.
But Jim Bruenell was flirting. She finally had to believe it when he nodded towards her ring finger and asked if she lost hers. The indentation from her wedding ring was still visible. She took the ring off and set it inside her makeup drawer at the beginning of the week. It was a monumental step for her to take. She took it off to put lotion on her hands when it caught her eye and she stared down at it. Why was she wearing it? What did she hope to accomplish by continuing to wear it? It was stupid. Her marriage was legally over. Her husband was gone. Missing. She couldn’t even contact him. There was no reason to continue wearing a ring that represented the greatest lie and disappointment of her life.
She felt like music should have started playing, or ceremonial words should have been said. It was a monumental achievement to her mental and emotional wellbeing when she slid the ring into the drawer and not onto her finger. Several times, there were moments when she suddenly felt panicked and her heart clenched as she rubbed her fingers together and missed her ring. Then her sanity quickly prevailed, reminding her she’d taken off the ring, herself.
“So did you have a fight, or are you getting it resized?”
“What?” Tracy asked, glancing up at Jim’s inquiry. She was trying to put together all the client bills for the month. They were supposed to go out on the first and it was already the twenty-eighth.
“Your ring? I’m assuming it’s a wedding ring.”
She glanced down at her bare hand. The skin on her ring finger was morphed into a permanent crease. She grimaced. “It was. I recently got divorced.”
Jim didn’t even pretend to be sorry, and his face split into a grin. He had sandy blond hair and a beard. Tracy guessed he was maybe forty, but she wasn’t sure. There were wrinkles around his eyes, and he had a quick smile. He dressed well too. Suits every time she saw him. He was still trim and fit, but did not possess the sculpted body of a guy in his twenties.
“Have you dated yet?”
“No.”
“Were you separated for awhile?”
“You could say that. He disappeared nine months ago. He’s on the run from the cops in connection with a felony he is actually guilty of committing.”
Jim’s grin faltered momentarily and his eyes dimmed. Then he shook his head and grinned even wider. “Well, holy crap. Not what I expected to hear. But it’s still been nine months. Would you like to go dinner with me sometime?”
“Dinner?” She stared at him, her eyes bugging. She might have looked as stupid as she sounded by repeating him, but he truly dumbfounded her.
“A date? Dinner? Want to try it again?”
“Aren’t you married?” Who, at age forty, wasn’t married?
“No. Divorced too. Five years. My son just started college; we had him young.”
She sat down, but simply could not believe this. She was being asked on a date. How was that possible? She hadn’t dated since high school. Literally. As a senior in high school, she spent two hours primping with Gretchen’s help and Vickie’s input. Then Micah came to the door and…
No! This was not about back then. Or Micah. Or her lame history. This was about now. Today. It was happening today.
“I might not be very good at it.”
“Eating dinner? In my estimation, it doesn’t usually take a lot of talent.”
She giggled and shut her eyes while nearly groaning at herself. She giggled. When did she last giggle? She lifted her gaze and smiled finally and fully at Jim. “Okay. It doesn’t. Yes, I’d enjoy going to dinner with you.”
“This Saturday?”
“Uh. Maybe. I have two girls. I need to…”
He smiled as he set a card on the counter. “Here’s my card. You call me. Okay? I’ll wait patiently. But please call me, Tracy.”
She took the card. It felt weird although a little, tiny spark of interest burned inside her.
And anything that attracted her interest had to be good.
After the bell tinkled and the storefront door slipped shut, she glanced up and was startled to find Donny suddenly there, standing in front of her desk. He waved towards Jim’s retreating figure. “What was that all about?” His tone bordered on rude.
“Uh. Not sure. I think he just asked me out.”
“You think? Must not be very good at it then. Are you going?”
Donny’s eyes narrowed and his lips were pursed, as if he just ate a lemon. Was he for real? Where did he get off marching out there and interrogating her?
“I think. Maybe. I don’t know. I need to see how Ally and Kylie feel about it.”
“Well, what do you think? That they’ll feel good about it? Duh. The man isn’t their father. Of course, they won’t want him
dating you. Think about it, Tracy.”
“Well, then again, maybe they’ll want me to be happy. Maybe they’ll think it’s okay if I spend an evening with someone my own age.” Who isn’t my brother-in-law. The snarky statement nearly slipped from her tongue.
“A man? Get real. They’ll hate it. You shouldn’t go.”
She stood up, pushing her chair out from behind her, and holding Donny’s gaze. “Is there something wrong with Jim? You always said what a nice guy he was.”
Donny frowned. “I guess, yeah. Nice enough as a client. But as a date?”
“You don’t really want to pursue this line of questioning do you? Vickie’s husband. Isn’t that you?”
He stared at her, and his expression seemed furious. Spinning on his heel, he nearly stomped into his office without another word. What the hell? He was angry she might go on a date? Screw him. He hadn’t been all alone for nine months, now had he? No. He had her sister around for six of those nine months. To talk to. And be with. To hug. To kiss. To have sex with. She had no one. Not even much adult conversation.
Except with him, of course.
****
“So what do you guys think?”
Tracy and her girls were sitting at their kitchen table, having dinner together. The dishes matched, the settings were complete, and the meal was nutritious. It was week number four of trying to find each other again. When they were without practice of one sport or another, the girls both helped her make the dinner. One set the table, and the other helped with the dishes. They all three sat down together, ate together as a rule again, and talked about their days. It started out awkward and stilted. It was hard to reconnect after so much grief and tragedy. It was also hard to sit at a family dinner with one chair empty, which was the reason they avoided it until then. But now it was time for them to quit avoiding the emptiness, and embrace the fact that there were still three occupied chairs.
