Mr. Right Goes Wrong

by Pamela Morsi

  “Tru,” she answered. That seemed inexplicably to make him angrier. “Yesterday was the first day he’d met Tru.”

  “Driscoll doesn’t deserve to even speak to Tru,” Eli said. “I hope you told him not to get near the kid again.”

  “Well, no, that’s not what I told him,” she answered. “He was curious. He wanted to meet him.”

  “He’s a little late for that,” Eli pointed out.

  “I know. It’s almost funny, really. After nearly fifteen years of insisting he’s not the father, it only took fifteen minutes of getting to know Tru and Tad’s kind of taking credit for all of his best qualities.”

  Eli’s jaw hardened. “I doubt seriously if Tru’s worst qualities even bare a resemblance to that creep. Why would you even talk to him after what he’s done to you, to both of you?”

  “He’s my boss,” Mazy answered. “And besides, it’s not really his fault.”

  “What? His behavior is totally his fault. How can you let him off the hook like that?”

  Mazy wasn’t letting him off the hook, but she wasn’t sure she was ready to explain. She should, but she hated to do it.

  “Tad’s changed,” she told him instead. “I’m not going to hold the past against him.”

  The iciness in Eli’s gaze chilled all the space around them. When he spoke softly and deliberately, his words were crushing. “He’s got you on the hook again. He’ll play the line for a while before he reels you in. Again.”

  “No,” Mazy reassured him. “Nothing like that. He’d finally met Tru and he wanted to talk about it. Nothing else.”

  Eli snorted unattractively and shook his head. “Don’t believe it,” he said. “The guy wants what he wants. And when it comes to you, he’s always wanted to keep you right under his thumb.”

  “I don’t fit under his thumb anymore,” she said. “I’m not saying I trust him, but I’m not afraid to give him the benefit of the doubt.”

  “After all that he did to you? After all he put you through? You’re still defending him.”

  Mazy wasn’t sure how much of her worst self she was ready to confess. But Tad had taken the brunt of the blame from her friends and family for way too long. She owed him some kind of defense.

  “It wasn’t his fault,” she told Eli.

  “I’ve heard all that,” he answered. “It takes two to tango, and all that. But he was almost an adult and you were still mostly a child. And you took all the blame while he skated away with practically none.”

  “Because he shouldn’t have had any,” Mazy said. She only hesitated a moment more before blurting out, “I didn’t accidentally get pregnant, Eli. I did it on purpose. I tried to win him away from Genna and couldn’t. I believed that if I got pregnant, she would break up with him. And he’d want his child, so he’d take me.”

  There was a stunned silence between them.

  “If he didn’t want that to happen, he should have used protection,” Eli said.

  “Well, he thought we were protected,” Mazy told him. “I...I ‘forgot’ to take my birth control pills. And I didn’t tell him.”

  “Oh, Mazy...” Eli moaned aloud.

  “I know you see me as a victim,” she said. “I’ve seen myself that way for a lot of my life. But I’ve stopped that. That kind of thinking gets me right back to flailing for control. I have always made my own choices―maybe some of them were bad choices, but they were mine. I did everything I could to take Tad’s choices away.”

  He stared at her and shook his head. “So now I’m supposed to feel sorry for poor old Tad?” he asked. “Okay, what you did—that was low. You tried to trap him. But if he was a good guy, a decent person, then it wouldn’t have stopped him from being a part of Tru’s life. He was still a father, whether he chose it or not. But poor old Tad, no matter what he does, no matter how he treats you, no matter what kind of a son of a bitch he continues to be, you still put him up on a pedestal.”

  “What? No,” she said. “People change, Eli. That’s all I’m saying, is that maybe he has changed.”

  “People don’t change,” he answered angrily. “The heart of people, the truth about who they are, that doesn’t change. You can clean it up or gloss it over, but it’s still there. We are what we are.”

  Mazy’s breath caught in her throat. “I don’t believe that,” she said. “We can take our lives in our hands and be whoever we want.”

  It was true. It had to be.

  Eli’s eyes had narrowed. The expression on his face held nothing of the man she had fallen for.

  “You can hardly wait to get back into bed with him.”

  She felt her jaw drop open. Where had that accusation come from? “No, no, Eli. I’m not interested in Tad.”

  “Of course you are. You always are. The guy just has to crook his little finger and you practically drop your panties at his feet.”

  “What a terrible thing to say!”

  He shrugged. “Just speaking the truth. I’ve always known you were Driscoll’s discard. But I’ve never been that interested in an actual time-share.”

  “I would never, I have never―”

  “Whatever.”

  “That’s the most horrible, cruel, disrespectful thing you’ve ever said to me.”

  “Yeah, probably gets you hot, doesn’t it?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “That’s the 4-1-1 on you, you know. Whether it’s Driscoll or a dozen others, you like the guys who treat you like shit.”

  “I just...I just...” Mazy wanted to defend herself, but couldn’t find the words.

  “He kicks you to the curb and you come running back for more,” Eli said. “Well, I can do that, too. I can be as shitty as any of them. You like being walked on? I’ll stamp my muddy boot prints right on your ass.”

  “Eli?”

  “Yeah, it’s your dumb, devoted Eli. But you see, I’ve finally wised up. I’m not going to stand by while some other guy puts you on a leash.”

  “Why are you acting like this?”

  “You’ve always thought you could pick me up, let me down, have sex with me until somebody better showed up,” Eli said. “Well, I’m not the innocent heartsick sucker that I used to be. I call the shots in this relationship now. I’ll call the shots and that’s the way it’s going to be.”

  “What about...what about love, Eli?”

  “Love? You wouldn’t recognize it if it dropped down right into your lap.”

  Was he right? Maybe he was.

  Mazy felt the tears welling in her eyes. Was she incapable of recognizing love?

  Or was she so flawed that she destroyed it? Without any intent, she’d managed to turn a wonderful, sweet guy like Eli into the same kind of creep she always ended up with. She’d thought she had changed. That she had grown. That falling for him was somehow evidence of that, but she had been wrong. It was exactly the same pattern. She had fallen in love with him and now he was going to treat her like crap.

  40

  Eli did not typically let himself get angry. But he’d found that once he started doing it, it became easier and a lot more dangerous. The thing about flying off the handle was that you really couldn’t know where you might land.

  He’d turned the tables in his argument with Mazy. Like any bad boyfriend might do, he’d made her the guilty party while he played the innocent victim.

  That part went even better than he’d expected. She was completely thrown off by his attack. It was almost as if she’d forgotten what he had done to her, as she’d defended and explained what she had supposedly done to him.

  And then it had all spiraled out of control. He had been jealous and scared. Mazy was interested in Driscoll again. Eli was certain of it. She had turned the tables herself in that “accidental pregnancy” revelation. Making it out t
hat a creep like Driscoll, who had taken advantage of a young, vulnerable girl, had somehow been maltreated by a pregnancy he’d never acknowledged or supported.

  Eli didn’t doubt that Mazy had manipulated things exactly that way. It was a painful admission that said awful things about the person she had been. But it gave Driscoll a pass that he didn’t deserve.

  What happens between two people can never truly be seen from the outside. But Eli knew Driscoll and he knew Mazy. And if given the words deceitful, lying and manipulator, Eli would have been sure they described the former person much more than the latter.

  That’s what he should have said. That’s what he had, on some level, wanted to tell her. But he’d slipped into his now-well-practiced bad-dude persona. It had gotten out of control. It had taken over and lashed out.

  He’d wounded her. He knew that. Even as it was happening he’d wanted to take it all back. But he was afraid. He was afraid that it was all true. That she could only love a man who rejected her. So he’d rejected her as harshly, as completely, as utterly, as he could.

  This was supposed to be the moment of his transformation. The plan required the inexplicable upending of the universe. He was to be outrageously the bad boy. He would blame Mazy. He would argue mercilessly. And then he would conveniently lose.

  That was the key. In order to win the woman he loved, he would have to lose the argument. He had felt pretty confident about that part of it. He’d been losing to Mazy most of his life.

  Then he would spout mea culpa, beg her forgiveness and ask her to marry him. She would say yes. He would pull her into his arms. They could enjoy some fantastic makeup sex and start shopping for diamonds. But somehow things didn’t always play out as he’d intended.

  Mazy’s eyes glistened with tears. The pain behind them was stark. There was a ramrod stiffness to her back.

  “Fine,” she said. “I guess that’s all I need to know. Goodbye, Eli.”

  His jaw dropped as she turned and walked to the door. They weren’t finished. They hadn’t got to the good part.

  “Mazy, wait.”

  He hurried to get between her and the door.

  “I think we’ve said all that we need to say,” she told him.

  “I haven’t.”

  “What more could you possibly have to say?” she asked. “I’m incapable of recognizing love, unable to remain faithful and have no chance of ever being a better person tomorrow than I was yesterday. I may be immune to your insults, but I don’t have to stand here and listen to them.”

  “Mazy, I want to marry you.”

  “What?”

  “I was wrong. Leaving you at the roadhouse was...it was terrible. I’m sorry. I want to talk this out, make it right. I really care about you. I always have. And I promise I’ll be a better husband than I’ve been a boyfriend.”

  Mazy stared at him in utter disbelief for an instant before some realization dawned in her eyes. “You think I should want to marry you?”

  “Let me explain...”

  “No further explanation required. I have plenty of experience with men who try to talk me out of the truth I can see with my own eyes. You don’t want me under Tad’s thumb, because you like having me under yours. I got involved with you again, Eli, because I believed that you were a nice, decent guy. But in the past few weeks you’ve shown yourself to be as big a selfish, boneheaded prick as Tad Driscoll ever was. I deserve better. Me, Mazy Gulliver, I deserve more!”

  She clutched her hands to her heart as if safeguarding it.

  “Yes, I’ve made some mistakes in my life. Yes, there are some things I’ve done where I would like to make amends. Even some things that I’ve done to you, Eli. But I refuse to pay the debts of the past with a future that looks just like it. I owe it to Tru and Beth Ann, but mostly I owe it to myself, to become the person that I was always meant to be. If you’re not the person that can help me do that, then you are not the person I’m supposed to be with. Now get out of my way. I’m not wasting another minute with the wrong man.”

  Eli stepped aside. He was too stunned to stop her. This was not how it was supposed to work. She was supposed to be broken Mazy. Needy and crippled with low self-esteem, yearning for the bad boy who wouldn’t give an inch and offered her nothing. This woman, this woman who had turned her back on him, was not that Mazy at all. But somehow he loved her even more.

  41

  It had been a long, lonely week for Mazy. She’d realized, almost too late, how easily it had been for her to be sucked into another bad relationship. Dr. Reese had once likened her dysfunctional love life to an addiction. She could see that now. She could see that sharing smiles with Eli, being in his arms, quaking beneath him in release, was truly akin to an alcoholic socially sipping martinis at a cocktail party. It was not going to end well.

  So Mazy was determined to end it now. When she’d turned her back on him last Sunday, she’d called it quits.

  She had thought that what they’d had together was maybe something more....

  She sighed heavily. As usual, all the finer feelings involved had been her own. Mazy would never have believed it if she hadn’t seen it herself. It was sad. She knew she should be grateful for such a close escape, but the sad feeling lingered.

  Day by day, she would get better, stronger. Day by day, her feelings for Eli would fade. Once they were faded enough, she could toss them away.

  With another sigh, Mazy scanned the spreadsheet on her computer. Concentrating on her work was what would get her through the day, the week, the future.

  Tad had asked her to get together a bundle of nonperformers to be sold off. She had cringed a bit about doing it so close to Thanksgiving. But he’d pointed out that it had to be done by the end of the year. Was Christmastime better? Not hardly.

  The choices weren’t truly choices at all. They were the accounts that wouldn’t or couldn’t be helped. She had her mouse cursor over Nina Garvey’s name. She hesitated. There was still something....

  As if she had conjured her by magic, Nina appeared at the door.

  “Hi, may I come in?”

  “Yes, yes, come in!”

  Mazy rose to her feet and offered the young woman the chair next to her desk.

  “I brought you a cupcake,” Nina said, handing over a small piece of bakery art. The frosting looked like a delicate lace and was topped by a purple flower.

  “Oh, how lovely!”

  “It’s Fay Jean Esher’s birthday,” Nina said. “They’re giving her a little party at the Ladies’ Auxiliary. I made extra in case some of them didn’t turn out.”

  “You made this? It’s beautiful.”

  “Oh, it’s easy, really,” Nina insisted. “You just press the lace onto the icing to make the pattern. The flowers are more time than they are trouble. You could do it if you practice a bit.”

  Mazy was pretty sure she could practice for a lifetime and never produce anything worth showing off.

  “You can eat it on your coffee break or save it for dessert after supper.”

  “I think it’s too pretty to eat,” Mazy said.

  “It better not be,” Nina said, laughing. “I pride myself on how good my cakes taste.”

  “Well, thank you,” Mazy said. “I will enjoy looking at it this morning and eating it this afternoon.”

  After a moment Nina’s expression sobered. “I brought you some money,” she said.

  “What?”

  Nina opened her handbag and pulled out a plastic bag with a collection of bills and change.

  “I’ve heard that you’ve been telling folks that even if they can’t catch up their payments, if they put something on their account, it buys them more time.”

  “Well, yes,” Mazy answered. “In many cases that’s true.”

  “I want to put something o
n my account,” she said. “I’ve been making cakes for people and putting all that money aside for the debt. This is my first payment. It’s not much, but I’ve talked to some folks about pies for the holidays, so there’ll be more.”

  Mazy felt sick. There was no way that Nina was ever going to qualify for an extension on the loan. She owed way too much and she had no dependable income. Taking this money from her would simply be taking it. It would be absorbed into accrued interest and make no difference to the bank’s decision to sell the debt. And the cash could mean a lot more to Nina and her son.

  “Wait. I think—”

  “Excuse me, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  The words came from Tad. He had come in through the open door, but paused at the sight of Nina in the side chair.

  “Hello, Nina.”

  The young woman visibly stiffened. His unexpected appearance was a little startling. And she was obviously afraid of Tad, which probably made sense. She was in a precarious financial situation and as bank director he represented the bureaucracy that must have felt allied against her.

  Tad could certainly recognize this. Mazy assumed that was why he’d used her given name instead of adhering to the policy of more formal address for clients during business hours. The familiar first-name basis was undoubtedly meant to reassure her. However, it didn’t seem to work. The bright, cheerful woman who had come through the door disappeared into a pale, fearful woman who looked almost cornered.

  “Mr. Driscoll,” Nina responded without ever meeting his eyes. Bravely she raised her chin. “I’ve come to pay some on my account. I’m earning a little money―I want to put it toward the debt.”

  “Excellent idea,” Tad said. “But you don’t need to bother Ms. Gulliver with that. Take your money out to the teller and she’ll take care of it for you.”

  Tad stepped slightly to the side of the door and held his arm out, as if inviting her to leave the room.

  With only a quick, haunted glance toward Mazy, Nina gathered up her money and pretty much fled.