CHAPTER THIRTY TWO
Megan is moving in this weekend. To our house. No, that is not a typo. I keep shutting my eyes tight and opening them quickly, to see if anything changes. Nope. It’s happening. This weekend. As in tomorrow.
After my pleasant, helpful talk with Tony on Tuesday, this week has disintegrated rapidly. Work has been a pain in the ass with Tim leaving. I interviewed both Cecilia and Amanda, and I am certain neither one of them will file a lawsuit.
Amanda said he was “icky,” but never with her, and if she heard noises in his office, she hummed happy tunes to drown it out. Then she gasped in horror and asked if she was in trouble for dating Marcus. I didn’t know they were an item, but assured her that non-reporting relationship dating was fine, but the CEO screwing everyone in the company, as well as the authors, was not.
Cecilia said, “If I tell you I slept with him during my slutty phase, I will throw up in my mouth, and possibly all over your desk.” While behind closed doors with her, I had to ask how her personality did such an abrupt turnaround. She said that seeing how badly Nathan behaved made her question her whole life, and what she was doing. “It stopped being fun, and I realized I had no girlfriends because I slept with all of their boyfriends and husbands. And I also started doing yoga.” I knew there was some New Age influence at work there.
Comfortable that we don’t have any more looming lawsuits, at least internally, I submitted my notes to the board. They should make a decision soon on who they would like to replace Tim. Even if it’s a current employee, we have key holes to fill, especially with Frank running out of here like his nonexistent hair was burning. Thank God for Pam, the Acquisitions Manager. She’s been a rock.
Tuesday night when we got home from bowling, Steve acted weird. A little distant. I thought someone told him I was talking to Tony. They saw us hug? Laugh together? Steve isn’t the jealous type. Then I worried that somehow he knew I stopped to see Luke, but no one knows about that except Gina and Claire. I haven’t done anything that would cause them to break the sisterhood pact of silence.
On Wednesday, I got my answer. I thought we were going to the pub, and since I hadn’t been there in a few weeks, I was looking forward to it. Tony was going to take care of the art problem, Luke was leaving me alone, and this weekend I was planning on putting up some of my pictures of the two of us, and talking to Steve about moving some of the existing ones. Baby steps, but progress.
When I got home from work, Steve was in his office grading papers. I popped my head in and asked what time we were leaving. He looked up with a pained expression, but he could have been irritated by his summer school students’ lack of passion for creepy-crawlies.
He gestured for me to come in, and I eagerly rushed to his side and bent down to kiss him. As I attempted to turn the swivel chair and straddle him across his lap, he grabbed my shoulders lightly and said, “Stop. We have to talk about something.”
I froze and slowly disentangled myself and rose from the chair. I folded my arms across my chest. “That doesn’t sound good.”
He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He placed them back on his face and stood. “Let’s go in the living room.” Yes, it’s so much more comfortable on the orange couch. I agree.
As we sat and I sensed his tension, I caught glimpses of Noreen on the walls and my stomach churned. This is a prime example of how relationships deteriorate the more serious they become. When we were only dating there was never a tense or negative word between us. I braced myself for the forthcoming words.
“I don’t know how to say this, but I met with Jeff a few days ago, actually Monday before class, and….,” he inhaled deeply and stared at the ceiling, “I agreed that Megan will move in with us.”
I blinked hard several times in a row, as if that would erase what he just said. Or erase him. Or transport me the hell out of this looney bin. “You…she…what the fuck are you talking about?” As he reached for me I jumped off the rock hard, ugly couch like I was shot out of a cannon.
“Rebecca relax, let’s talk about this.”
“Talk about it? Why? You obviously make all of your decisions without me. You don’t think that I should have any say in this? I don’t know this child. I’ve never even lived with a kid. I just moved in here.”
“I know. It’s been very stressful for you, but Jeff and Crystal are doing a terrible job with her and I feel like I—”
“You owe it to Noreen. I know. Never mind the living, breathing woman right in front of you.” I sat on the piano bench, spotted their wedding picture, and turned it over.
Steve followed me and sat next to me, and I jumped up and dashed to the bedroom.
At my heels, Steve got to the door just before I could lock him out. I pulled my suitcase out of my closet and started packing my lingerie. I don’t know why I thought those items were the most necessary, but maybe it was an unconscious pull towards my inevitable destination.
Steve planted himself in front of the suitcase and said, “I am not letting you leave without hearing me out.”
I averted my eyes and slapped the suitcase shut, shoved it aside and sat on the bed with my head in my hands.
Steve was silent for a few moments. He took off his glasses and cleaned them on his shirt. Putting them carefully back on his face, he said in a soft voice. “Did you, or anyone for that matter, ever think that when Megan moved in with Jeff that I was personally affected? I met Noreen when she was a young, divorced mother. Megan was only six years old. At first I wasn’t the best with her. I had little experience with kids. I had my nephews, but they didn’t live nearby. I was almost forty and a bit set in my ways. Megan brought a light to my life that was missing.”
I continued to look down at my lap, and waited for more.
“Noreen wasn’t the best mother. She loved Megan, but I think she was too young when she had her. She was just out of college and married Jeff because she was pregnant. Her mother placed the Catholic guilt thing on her, so she got married.”
He sighed and continued. “Noreen hated Jeff for leaving her, but she adored him, too. I don’t think she ever got over him. It was an obsession. Megan didn’t have it easy in the war between Jeff and Noreen, and I was her safe haven. Of course as she reached the teen years, I wasn’t always successful with her, either, but I was better than those two. When she left I gave up, and I felt it served Noreen right for fucking things up. I didn’t want to comfort Noreen because her behavior caused me to suffer a loss, too. I always wanted kids, but I had never met the right woman in my younger years. In the beginning Noreen was my dream woman, but that slowly unraveled. I loved her. I’m not going to deny that. But I didn’t think she would be able to handle more kids, so I let it go.”
I opened my mouth to speak and he put one finger to my lips. “Let me finish and then if you want to go, I won’t try to stop you.”
I nodded and he continued. “I feel terribly guilty that I didn’t work harder to keep Megan here with us. That I didn’t do a better job of making Noreen happy. That I didn’t protect her and keep her from riding her road bike in the dark by herself. I should have gone with her. Maybe if I did, Megan’s mother would be alive.”
“So you see, I love Megan, and I have fucked up being a stepfather. I have left the pictures up, but I let Megan go. So who has it all been for? None of it makes any sense. All I know is that I lost my parents in my twenties, and that was hard. I can’t abandon a motherless teenager.”
He started to get up and I grabbed his arm. Finally the tears I rarely cry were flowing. “I’m sorry.” As I said this, I chose to ignore the additional questions his speech produced.
“For what, Rebecca? For wanting me to love only you? You deserve that, and I do. I only love you. At least you’re the only woman I love.”
“Why didn’t you tell me all of this a long time ago? I wouldn’t have stopped you from having a relationship with Megan.”
“I saw your reaction when I brought you here the first time.”
“That was a reaction to Noreen’s memory, not Megan.”
He ran his fingers through his hair and laid back on the bed. “You’re right.” He turned to me as I laid down next to him, only touching my arm. He reached for my hair, and refrained from his usual head massage, presumably as a reaction to my pained expression. “Where do we go from here?” His eyes glistened as he reached out to wipe my tears.
I breathed in as deeply as I could and exhaled slowly. Dear God, a teenager!
“If this is really what you want, I can’t say no. And I’ll stay.” He reached for me, and I held him back for a moment. “But there have to be rules and boundaries. I have to feel like I am the other adult in this house, and that I matter.”
We went on to discuss the rules, and he again promised to work on the house. He said now that Megan is moving in, it will be easier to ask her about her mother’s things and to make the house more comfortable for everyone. I am still not quite sure how any of this will make me comfortable, but I’m already here, and leaving now won’t make my life any easier.
So now it’s Thursday, and Megan is moving in tomorrow. Steve and Jeff both took the day off from work to haul all her stuff to our house, but I am hiding out at work.
I still have so many lingering, unanswered questions. How does Megan feel about this? Does she want to move? Does she miss Steve? Will living in this house again trigger memories of her mother that will push her over the edge? How the hell can I possibly make this house my own now, when not only I am potentially offending Steve, but the dead woman’s child?
Even though I am not a mother, children are sacred to me. How can I tuck Noreen’s memory away now? Am I completely and utterly screwed? Plus our privacy is gone, and then there are the animals. At least Elsa will be happy and she can sleep with Megan again. Oh, I forgot the best part. Steve said since he and I can’t have children, maybe we should get a puppy. He said “Corgis are cute.” Sure. Let’s turn the backyard into a zoo. I hear monkeys are funny and baby bears are adorable.
What do I look like? The fucking Pied Piper? The old woman who lived in a shoe? I know, she had too many children, not animals, but I used to be a single, career woman with two quiet cats. What the hell is happening? I’m surprised he hasn’t invited Eve to move in, since she’s lonely. My heart skips a beat as I mentally count the bedrooms on my fingers. Whew. No, there’s no room.
At least that loser Jeff agreed to pay child support. He isn’t completely abandoning his responsibilities, and apparently Megan will visit over there, at least to continue to have a relationship with her trio of little brothers. Maybe it won’t be so bad. Gina does it as a halftime parent.
Hearing Steve on the phone making moving arrangements with Jeff made me think of someone else moving. Luke. In my condo. By himself. With wine. And my red nightgown. And peace and quiet. Even though he’s a jerk.
I should have taken the day off, except I would have to participate in moving day. This is happening insanely quickly, however the faster we move this along the sooner I will know if I can deal with it or not. I felt tremendously sad for Steve when he told me how he feels about Megan and fatherhood, but that doesn’t mean I can be a permanent part of this. If I’m not careful, I will be guilt tripped into a life I didn’t plan on and don’t want.
My mother called yesterday, and I’ve been putting off calling her back, but at a time like this a girl needs her mom. I start fishing around in my purse for my phone, and what I just said hits me. A girl needs her mom. Megan doesn’t have a mom, and she’s only seventeen. She really doesn’t have much of a dad, either.
I am startled by yelling.
“Hey, I have the most amazing news! I can’t even stand it. I could pass out!” Claire’s face is lit up like a Las Vegas billboard, and Cecilia is right behind her doing a crazy dance.
“What is she doing?” I point to Cecilia, who appears to be rocking an invisible baby.
“Brandon told me he’s in talks with a lawyer about a BABY!” Claire is jumping up and down, and dancing with Cecilia. That alone makes me question whether or not this whole week has been a dream. Perhaps a hallucination?
“That’s great. I’m so happy for you guys.” I stand up and come around the desk to hug Claire, but watch out for Cecilia’s flailing moves. I could get a bony elbow in the eyeball.
“So is it for sure?”
“We’re meeting with the lawyer next week, but it looks good. She’s young and healthy. Due in November.”
“Is this an open adoption? I know you said you’re leery of that arrangement.”
Her face suddenly clouds over. “Oh, I don’t know. I don’t think so. Brandon knows I’m opposed to it.” Her smile returns and she says, “We’ll work out the details. All I care about right now is that in November I will be a mommy.”
Cecilia is still standing there giggling like an idiot, as if she had a drive-in lobotomy at lunch. She exclaims, “We can do jumping pictures at the baby shower.” They both leap into the air again. I hope Brandon knows what he’s in for.
“Aren’t you happy for me?” Claire pauses and says, “Oh, I forgot. The Megan thing. I’m sorry.”
“No, I don’t want to spoil your moment. But are you sure you don’t want a teenager? She could babysit.” I frown and admit, “Teenagers scare me.”
Cecilia chimes in. “Hey, there’s a song by My Chemical Romance called “Teenagers,” and they say that teenagers scare the living shit out of people.” She erupts in peals of laughter, and then she joins with Claire in an off-key rendition of this song, which I hope sounds better when My Whatever sings it.
“Hey, Brandon should learn that one for the band,” says a breathless Cecilia.
Claire just smiles and they start talking about Brandon’s upcoming Saturday night show. I am astounded that these two can get along after Cecilia plotted and connived to steal Claire’s boyfriend. And sleep with him. Maybe Claire’s maternal nature allows her to forgive anything and anyone. I was absent the day they distributed that gene in heaven. Or wherever.
Cecilia hugs Claire again and goes back to her desk.
Claire sighs dreamily, standing up on the balls of her feet. “I’m so excited to pick out names, and buy the crib and all of the cute little clothes. And of course I can’t wait to find out if it’s a boy or a girl.” Holy crap, she’s wearing flats today. Her impending motherhood must be changing her habits after all. Of course the amount of drinking tomorrow night will be more telling.
“Didn’t Ron and Natasha have a girl?” Ron is Claire’s ex-husband, and Natasha is his Russian mail order girlfriend. Not really. That’s just what some people were saying, but not Claire. She’s not jealous at all when it comes to Ron.
“Yes, in December. She’s six months old. I’ve only seen her once, but he sends me pictures. Very cute.”
“Isn’t it going to be hard to manage a full time job, school and a baby? Especially right after your honeymoon?” By that time Brandon and Claire will only have been together a whopping year and a half. Total!
“It’ll be fine. Brandon’s schedule is flexible and school is almost done.”
I refrain from reminding her that with the CEO and Editor-in-Chief positions up for grabs, Pam could fill one, and her department will have no manager. She won’t get promoted, but surely there will be a shakeup and some major changes. And stress.
The mommy-to-be bounces off after I assure her that Steve and I will be at the show on Saturday. He wouldn’t risk disappointing me again or else he will be afraid to fall asleep at night.
I return to pondering my own impending pseudo maternity, and call my mother.
“Hi, Mom. How is everything?”
“Fine, Dear. We haven’t heard from you in a while. How’s everything in your new home?”
I launch into a semi-hysterical tirade, in the way an adult can only get away with when talking to her mother. At the end I am breathless and not even sure if I made any sense.
“I agree this is mo
ving very fast, like a runaway train, but you’re in pretty deep now. I can’t believe you rented your condo to that Luke. He was really a jerk, and that Tony was a Peter Pan. Now of course, you don’t want Captain Hook, either. Not that Steve is Captain Hook. Hmm…I don’t think any men in that story represent what you want, but you get the point.”
I do? Sometimes my mother is so maddening, but she’s my go-to person for tough love. “I have no idea how to handle a teenager. Especially one with all of her issues.”
“She’s a young girl, not a hyena. Just be normal.”
“What does that mean?”
My mother heaves a sigh of exasperation. “Be open-minded. Maybe the child has gotten help and she’s perfectly delightful. Why do you always assume the worst? You used to be so positive. This could be a chance for you to apply your maternal side to more than those ungrateful fur balls.”
I ignore the insult to my cats, since that’s the least of my problems. “I don’t know if I have a maternal side.”
“When your father and I were the same ages as you and Steve, we had two young children. You were only five years old when your father was Steve’s age.”
“How does this help me?”
“Perspective. Things can always be harder. You need to stop being so dramatic. You have a man who loves you, and he is clearly going through a lot. You can’t run away when things get hard. Do you think it’s been a non-stop picnic for me with your father for fifty years?”
“Um, no. Remember I said I don’t know how you haven’t thrown him down the stairs?”
“I prefer to think I would smother him with his pillow. Less messy.” My silence prompts her to say, “Rebecca, I’m kidding. Clearly I am not instructing you in how to murder your boyfriend. Is there something I can do? I could come over when Megan gets settled in. I’m sure Paul would be happy to help, too. He’s wonderful with the kids.”
“No, that’s okay. I’ll deal with it. Hopefully she won’t hate me. That’s where I’ll start and it can only go up from there, right?”
Afraid of Her Shadow Page 28
