by Barrett
What a clusterfuck. Kirin had waited in the car, listening to hollering, cursing, and bloodcurdling screams. After half an hour, Sue came running out with another girl—whom she guessed was the mysterious Nikki. Expletives and a garbage bag followed them. “Just drive!”
The following weeks were a combination of fun times and a lot of fighting between Sue and her girlfriend. Not arguments, but physical fights. Hair-pulling, scratching, slapping fights. Kirin had tried to be a peacemaker until Sue took her aside and warned her to not to interfere. “You don’t understand this, so just stay out of it.”
She didn’t understand and eventually asked them both to leave. She was afraid the same thing was happening to Silke, but this time one of the parties involved was a special friend. She glanced at her cell phone, tempted to send a text. Then she remembered the look on Silke’s face when she got out of the car. She put the phone down.
She opened the document and continued writing. There was nothing she could do unless she was asked.
“Shit.”
Chapter Twenty-one
“I’M STUFFED. I don’t even think I have room for that dessert, although it smells wonderful.” Rachel put the plates in the sink and brought the wine bottle back to the table. She refilled each of their glasses. “The wine was a good choice.”
“Thanks.” The day had been pleasant, with no accusations, no snide remarks.
“Are you happy? I mean in general not just tonight.” Rachel’s voice was slightly slurred.
Silke took a deep breath. “I’m not sure how to answer that. Things haven’t been fine for such a long time. I don’t remember what happy feels like.” She swallowed hard.
Rachel leaned forward and cradled her head with both hands. “I don’t know what else I can do. I’ve apologized so many times and it doesn’t seem to make any difference. I don’t know what you want from me.”
“We’re just in different places. Our paths separated somewhere along the line and we don’t share the same interests. It’s not just because of . . . you must understand . . . . Never mind.”
“Baby, I love you. You’re the most important thing in my life.” Silke hated it when Rachel started pleading.
“We both know that isn’t true.” A sliver of defiance inched up her spine.
“It is,” Rachel pleaded.
“You still love the idea of a relationship. You’ve always wanted the Norman Rockwell vision, but it isn’t real. It’s what I thought I wanted too, but it’s not what we have.” Silke grabbed the wine bottle and splashed more into her glass. “For the last few years, I’ve stayed with you out of blind loyalty and . . . fear. It’s getting harder for me to work because I feel guilty when I’m not here taking care of the house. You rarely do anything around here so I don’t even know why we keep it.” The words poured out. She took another swallow of wine, hoping it gave her courage.
Rachel blinked and tried to focus. “What are you saying? I work hard to pay for this house, if I didn’t, we couldn’t afford it.”
“Maybe we should sell it.”
“What in the hell are you talking about?”
Silke grabbed the edge of the table. “Without teaching full time, I can’t afford it either. I’ll need to spend more time in my studio trying to create works to sell. But that’s difficult because of all the responsibilities I have around here.”
Rachel squinted and looked confused. She shook her head. “I’m confused. You’re saying you wanna sell this house?”
“Yes. You’re never here so why keep it?” The words were out before she could take them back.
“Where are we supposed to live?”
Silke shrugged. “I can move into my studio . . .”
Rachel’s jaw dropped. “You don’t wanna live with me anymore.”
It wasn’t a question, and Silke didn’t answer.
AT SUNRISE, SILKE quietly left the house with a thermos of coffee and a couple of bagels. Rachel had stayed up late, drinking. She had passed out on the couch, thankfully.
The air felt heavy, already sticky from the humidity. She wanted to work on the trim, but paint wouldn’t dry on a day like this. In addition to her sketchpad and laptop, she stuffed a few clothes and toiletries in her backpack.
There was no predicting Rachel’s reaction. Other times, she’d have a lot to drink, and might not remember the conversation, or she might be livid. Hell, she might even think the split’s a good idea.
The studio door creaked as she shoved it open. The wafting scents of fresh paint and sawdust greeted her, and she smiled. Even though it was small, she thought she could be happy in a space of her own. She opened the bay door and turned on the fan to circulate the stagnant air.
Sunday mornings were usually quiet in the neighborhood, and she enjoyed the early morning hours to herself. Last year, she had found a red metal drafting chair on sale and placed it at the large oak workbench under the windows. It was perfect. She spread out her drawings and poured some coffee. In the light of day, her ideas looked better. She had to tweak a few of them but she wanted to have something ready by Monday.
Nearly two hours later she heard a door slam across the alley. She girded herself for a possible confrontation. With the doors and windows open in the studio, she felt safe that Rachel would not make a scene.
Without turning around, she felt Rachel’s presence, or more appropriately her energy.
“Looks like you’ve been busy. It looks nice.” Rachel walked around the room but didn’t go upstairs, fortunately.
“One of my former students helped me paint.” Silky continued working on the drawing.
“I see. Well, it turns out I have to leave early. Jim scheduled a new client first thing tomorrow morning in Columbus. I’ll be leaving in an hour.” She walked to the door. “I guess we’ll talk when I get back in two weeks. If you need anything, you know where I’ll be. Oh, I left some money on the counter for the bills.”
And she was gone, just like that. Silke sat motionless for least fifteen minutes, waiting for the other shoe to drop. She didn’t leave the studio until noon then cautiously ventured back to the house. She sighed. Everything remained exactly as it had been the night before. Dishes in the sink, unopened mail on the counter, and dirty laundry sitting on the floor.
An unexpected sob escaped her throat and tears coursed down her cheeks. She slid down the kitchen wall and felt completely lost and helpless. Her agony surfaced like a long dormant festering infection.
“I KNOW THIS is short notice,” Esther said over the phone, “but Barb Grant had an emergency gallbladder operation and she was scheduled to write a short piece on the Door County Veterans Parade. It’s next weekend.”
“I really need to work on this article . . .” Kirin realized it would only be a weekend trip, and she could use the money. Besides, if she had to work, she could legitimately avoid a trip to her parents’ cottage. “Look, if we can keep it quick and short, I could probably drive up there for the weekend.”
“You’re a life saver. I’ll owe you for this one.” Esther sounded ecstatic.
“And you’ll cover all of my expenses?” No harm in asking.
“Absolutely. I’ll e-mail the contact information. Thanks, Kirin.”
She looked at the calendar. It was next weekend, which meant she had about four days to arrange and send the photographs. She could probably dictate some of the article in the car, which would save time. It was doable. Besides what else did she have to do? She had friends up north who hosted an annual Fourth of July party.
SILKE HUNG UP the dish towel, relieved that the kitchen was back in order. Rachel wasn’t always this passive aggressive, but then she’d never been physically aggressive either. She poured a glass of iced tea and headed into the living room with her cell phone, determined to start being more proactive.
“Hi, Phillip. It’s me. Sorry to bother you on a Sunday afternoon.”
“No bother, sis. You know I’m always glad to hear from you. Besides, we were just pa
cking the car to head out to Mom’s for dinner. Are you gals going?”
She swallowed hard. That was the next phone call she was going to make and really didn’t want to. “Well . . . No. Rachel had to leave early for a meeting in Columbus.”
“Why don’t you come with us? I’ll come get you while Barb is making her potato salad. How about it?”
“I don’t want you to have to go out of your way . . . And I really do have some stuff to do.” That sounded so lame. You wanted a chance to talk to him. This would be perfect, and you could pay an overdue visit to your mother.
Phillip waited, knowing it would increase the guilt factor. His skill as a litigator earned him an excellent reputation.
“I really do want to talk to you so . . . How soon do I need to be ready?”
“Give me forty-five minutes, and don’t forget your swimsuit.” He chuckled.
She laughed. “See you then, bully.” It would be a good opportunity to apprise everyone of the situation. Things had been uneasy for the past year, even worse since the incident with Rachel.
At first, her family had been so supportive when she had announced her new relationship with a woman. And over the years, they’d warmed to Rachel’s winning personality. But when her injury resulted in partial blindness, Phillip’s fury nearly put Rachel behind bars. For months, he threatened to sue for damages and begged Silke to let him. In hindsight, well . . . it was best not to go there.
Silke went out to close up the studio, and as an afterthought, grabbed the lighthouse drawings to take along. Phillip had always been her most honest critic. With a small bag packed and a nice bottle of wine, she waited at the front door.
Right on time, Phillip showed up in the brand new Lincoln Navigator he had purchased for Barb. She locked the front door as he bounded up the steps to help her.
“Let me take those,” he said and wrapped his arms around her in a bear hug. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages. You look tan. Have you been laying out sunning yourself?”
She laughed as he opened the car door for her. “You must have missed the memo. I was in Belize for two weeks.”
He started the car then slapped his forehead. “Oh yeah, I completely forgot. It’s been crazy at work and the boys are both passionately involved in soccer.”
“Wow, I thought it was little league.” Now she felt guilty that she hadn’t checked up on her nephews. She put her hand on Phillip’s shoulder. “When did we get too busy to stay in touch?”
He laughed and shook his head. “I don’t know. Life just seems to fly by, and we get too caught up, I guess.” He took her hand. “This is a good start. Let’s remedy that problem. Jack and Jordon will be thrilled to see you.”
“And I’ll be glad to see them. Christmas wasn’t the same with you guys in Florida.”
Phillip groaned. “I hope I never have to do that again. The boys loved Disney World, but two weeks with Barb’s parents was not a vacation—let me just say that. And speaking of relatives. What’s up with Rachel? Sounds like she’s doing an awful lot of traveling.”
Shoe. Dropped. “Actually, that’s the reason I called. We can talk later if we don’t have time now. I need your help. You know this year’s been difficult, and I’ve decided to end the relationship as gracefully as possible. Last night, I suggested we sell the house and Rachel went into shutdown mode. I think that’s why she left early.”
“Are you sure you want to do that? Where will you live?”
“I’ve been getting my studio ready, in case I needed . . . in case I wanted to move out there. I got some used furniture, and the landlord agreed to make it more habitable for the winter. At least it’s something I can afford and some place to work.”
Phillip tapped the steering wheel with his finger, and Silke could almost see the cogs grinding in his head. “Let me think about this. You know I’ll do anything you want to make you happy, but let’s move carefully. More important than anything, I want to be sure that you’re safe. Please remember you can always stay with Mom or us. So let’s consider all the options . . .”
THE SUNDAY DRIVE from Phillip and Barb’s beautiful Fox Point home out to her mother’s house in Elm Grove was comfortable and fun. The boys talked almost nonstop about school, their friends, and soccer, soccer, soccer. She didn’t need to worry about awkward silences with two eight year olds.
As soon as Philip put the car in park, the boys were out of their seat belts and racing to the front door as her mom stood with open arms.
“Sweetie, what a wonderful surprise.” Her mom’s hug was as tender and comforting as ever.
“It was for me too. I called Phillip this afternoon, and he insisted I join them. It’s good to see you.” And she meant it.
The kitchen counter resembled an all-you-can-eat buffet. Her mother loved to entertain family and usually prepared too much food. She insisted that growing boys needed it and apparently, that included her son. After contributing her fabulous potato salad, Barb took the boys outside to the pool. Phillip picked up a platter of chicken pieces and a bowl of barbecue sauce and followed her.
“I’m afraid all I could come up with at the last minute was wine,” Silke said. “I think you’ll like this. It’s a crisp Riesling that should go well with your chicken.”
“You didn’t have to bring anything. I’m tickled that you’re here. Tell me about your trip to Belize. How are Diane and Mark? I sure miss them.” Her mom continued filleting the radishes.
“They’re doing really well. The resort is extremely popular, and I think they’re happy. I may go back this fall for a more extended visit. You should come down for a week if you can.”
“Can you girls afford to be away that long?” Her mother filled the ice bucket and put it on the counter.
Silke felt her neck get hot. “Well, Diane has space in the former owner’s cottage. They’ve been remodeling for several months. When I told her I wanted to do a series of drawings about Belize, she thought I should use it.” She closed the patio door and sat down at the counter. “Mom, Rachel won’t be going with me. The reason I called Phillip was because I’m ready make a change.”
Her mother stopped fussing. “Whatever do you mean? What kind of change?”
She didn’t know exactly how to break the news. “I’m sure you know how difficult this year has been for me . . . well, for both of us. Our relationship has changed and . . . we’ve grown apart. We no longer share the same interests or friends . . .”
“Things are bound to change, honey. Every relationship goes through hard times. I’ve always been so proud of the way you two worked things out.”
“It’s different this time. I can’t trust her anymore. Ever since I got hurt . . . I’ve been afraid of her temper. And, I can’t be sure but I think she’s seeing someone else. She’s gone more than she’s home and does nothing to help with the house. I just can’t do it all anymore and still worry about her mood swings.” Her throat burned as she fought to keep from crying. “Do you think I could have a glass of wine?”
Her mother poured a glass and kissed her forehead. “I’m so sorry, sweetie.”
The patio door opened, and Phillip stuck his head in. “Hey, sis. Do you think you could help your brother with this massive cooking task?”
Her mother nudged her. “You go on out with Phillip. I’ll be along in a little while.”
The patio was quiet except for the excited gibberish coming from the pool. Splashing around had given way to serious competition that Barb was supervising.
“You okay?” Phillip handed Silke the barbecue sauce. She coated each piece of chicken as he turned it over on the large gas grill.
“No, but I will be. I just tried to explain to Mom.” The words caught in her throat. Now that she actually talked about her plan to other people, it was becoming much more real and frightening. “I don’t know if I can do this.”
He closed the lid on the grill and guided her to an umbrella-shaded table. “You don’t have to do anything right away, an
d you don’t have to do it by yourself. If you want me to, I’ll handle the whole thing. You have a contract, which gives you a legal way out. If you’re worried, I will draw up a settlement and have you moved out of there this week.”
His words and his calm conviction felt like cool water rushing over her. Inside a voice was screaming, yes that’s what I want. Just do it and make it all go away.
“Oh, Phillip, I wish it was that easy. But I have my work and a new commission. I’ve also applied for a grant, which would be a godsend. It’s just so damn hard to untangle so many years.” She looked at his strong handsome face. “It wasn’t always bad. There were some good years.”
He took her hand. “I know, but I will never be able to forget that she tried to kill you.” His voice had a hard edge that she very seldom heard.
