Broken Together

by K. L. Gilchrist

  So Brian had been serious about cutting off all contact. Serious enough to provoke this lady into going somewhere she knew she shouldn’t. Either that or the chick was a garden variety nutcase. Wait a minute. Was Tracey dealing with a crazy person? That purse Lisette held definitely looked big enough to hold a gun. Husband’s jilted lover shoots wife? No way! Lord, protect this woman because if she made one fast move toward her purse Tracey refused to be held accountable for beating her senseless.

  Tracey pulled herself up to her full height, crossed her arms beneath her chest, and spoke in a loud, clear voice. “Lisette, you have two options. You can either tell me what you need to speak to my husband about and leave, or you can just leave. Either way, you are leaving.”

  The front screen door swung open fast behind them. Tracey whipped around but not quickly enough to stop Tyler from taking one long step out onto the porch and standing right behind her. One look at his steeled face and clenched fists told Tracey he was not going to step off the wooden boards of that porch until Lisette left. He had to have heard at least the last few moments of their conversation.

  Tracey turned back around and fixed her eyes on Lisette. Her voice ratcheted down to a more subdued tone. “It’s time for you to go.”

  Lisette’s eyes bounced from Tracey to Tyler and back to Tracey. Tracey watched her clutch her bag tighter to her side. Whatever nerve Lisette had come there with appeared to have drained out of her now pale face.

  “Tell Brian he will hear from me,” Lisette said.

  Tyler stood so close behind Tracey she could feel his shoulder right behind her neck and she could smell his Axe body spray. Neither one said anything as they watched Lisette leave the porch, walk down the stairs and travel along the sidewalk. She walked at a leisurely pace, past the trees and the driveway, down the lane and finally out of Tracey and Tyler’s line of sight.

  “Where’s her car?” Tyler asked.

  “She doesn’t drive. Apparently that makes it easy for her to ask people for rides,” Tracey sighed. She turned and looked up at him. “We should talk about what just happened here.”

  Tyler shook his head and twisted his lips in disgust. “No. I’ve got it figured out. Brian?”

  Tracey placed a hand on Tyler’s arm. “Let’s talk.”

  He shook her hand from his body. “I’m going out. Brianna’s upstairs with her coloring books.”

  Before Tracey could utter another word, Tyler vanished, his legs carrying him back into the house in a split second. She didn’t have to follow him to know he was gathering up his keys, his jacket, his phone and iPod before leaving out the back door. She’d wait a half hour before calling him. If Tyler did figure out Lisette had been intimate with his stepfather, it was best to just let him walk out and blow off some steam.

  Tracey didn’t have that luxury. Hair washing and braiding was a regular Saturday chore. She had to carry herself back upstairs and go cornrow a head full of soft brown tangled hair on a five year-old who had no idea why her mother had run out of the room like a nut. Tracey formulated her plan as she reached the stairs. Get to the girl’s room. Put a Disney DVD in the player. Gather up the oil, comb and brush again. Settle Brianna in her little wooden chair again. Tell her the truth. Mommy had to go handle some mess. A big mess. Yes. Did it matter who made the mess? No. Was someone being punished for it? Yes.

  All of them.

  “That’s the chick Brian’s smashing, huh?” Tyler smirked.

  “Watch your mouth! We don’t talk like that in this house, or for that matter, anywhere,” Tracey chided.

  He shrugged. “Sorry.”

  Tyler had returned to the house two hours after he’d left. He’d trudged back upstairs and passed Brianna’s room on the way to his bedroom, a blur in a gray hoodie with white headphone cords dangling from his ears.

  Five minutes later she had knocked on his door, pushed her way inside and sat on the edge of his messy bed. Tyler was parked at his computer desk, about to attach his iPod to the computer. At sixteen he knew more about the computer than she did, and came and went from the house more responsibly than she’d seen any other teenager. He had a good amount of freedom, mostly because he’d never caused them any problems. Tracey hated that he knew about the affair, but what could she do? He’d walked right into it by answering the front door.

  Tracey leaned back on her elbows and stared at the quilted pattern on his wrinkled blue comforter. “Her name is Lisette. She was a nurse over at Germantown Family for about five months.”

  “So, I’m right then? He cheated with her?”

  Tracey sighed. “Yes, but don’t start acting a fool in the house just because you know.”

  “Yeah … okay. He’s still with her? That’s why she came here?”

  “No. It’s over now. I don’t know why she stopped by here to see him.”

  “You don’t want to find out?”

  She shrugged. “If it’s important enough for me to know, the Lord will reveal it to me. I’ve already spent way too much time and energy thinking about her and Brian.”

  Tyler’s clenched jaw and rigid posture transmitted his disapproval. “Mom? Wait, you’re not going to divorce him?”

  Tracey sat up and focused her eyes directly on Tyler’s. She had to make her words as clear as glass. “No. We’re a family. We’re going to stay a family. It’s over. We are moving on. God is still in control here.”

  Tyler nodded slowly, but she could see questions in his eyes. His jaws were still tight. Tracey averted her eyes and stared out the window. She had no more words and even the ones she’d just spoken sounded contrite and corny, so she concentrated on staring at the silky blue sky and the rays of sunshine. Clues of springtime showed up more each day. The icy winter had faded away. Thinking of it gave her the hope that came with knowing time moved on no matter what. But how in the world could she expect a teenager to understand that?

  She turned her gaze back to Tyler. “You’re disappointed in him?”

  He nodded. “Yeah … but … you know … ”

  She knew indeed. “Want to pray about it?”

  “Now?”

  “Yes,” she said, stretching a hand out to him.

  He shook his head and swiveled his body around in his chair until he faced his computer screen. “Maybe later.”

  Tracey took the hint. She rose to leave, for a split second considering putting her arms around him like she did when he was a skinny, big-eyed, crooked tooth kid in elementary school—when the issues he dealt with were no more serious than rips in his pants from playing too rough on the playground, forgotten lunch money, and always needing new sneakers. That was then. Now, in the chasm between childhood and adulthood, he had to make sense of the craziness that happens in the adult world—as confusing and sinful as it was.

  She decided against hugging him but reached over to give his shoulder a squeeze.

  He surprised her by reaching up to catch her hand. “I want to go live with Dad.”

  Tracey stopped. “Kyle?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Wha?” Her breath disappeared, making it hard for her to speak. “When … ah … you’ve been thinking about this?”

  Tyler stayed focused on his computer screen. “Me and Dad have been talking about it for months now.”

  “Really?”

  “He hasn’t said anything to you?”

  “No.”

  “Call him.”

  “Is there something wrong with being here? This is your home.” Tracey’s heart thumped in her chest. She grasped the back of his chair.

  “Call him.”

  Tracey nodded, and turned to leave. What more could she say? She’d always had custody of Tyler, but it wasn’t like there’d been a big dispute about that to begin with. She’d left Syracuse pregnant, gave birth to a baby boy months later, and he’d been living with her ever since.
True, Kyle was in Tyler’s life and talked to him on the regular, but she’d had no idea her son toyed with the idea of leaving home before he went to college. Call Kyle? Absolutely. But she’d do it when she wasn’t tempted to yell at him for not communicating with her first about bringing Tyler up to New York.

  A knock vibrated Tyler’s bedroom door as Tracey placed her hand on the doorknob. Before she could stop him, Brian poked his head inside.

  “Hey Trace, do you know Brianna has all her Barbies stripped and lined up in the hallway? She told me she’s getting ready to run a whirlpool bath for them. Did you tell her she could do that?”

  “I’ll get her.” Tracey looked back at Tyler. He’d put his headphones back on and turned his face toward his computer screen, but not fast enough for Tracey to miss the nasty glare he shot at his stepfather.

  Tracey pushed Brian backwards out of Tyler’s room and shut the door firmly behind her.

  “What’s that all about?”

  “He needs a minute to himself right now, okay.”

  Tracey shoved her feelings into her gut, jumped into autopilot mode and started moving. She could feel Brian’s eyes on her as she hustled toward the hall bathroom and the sound of running water.

  “Trace, stop!”

  Tracey, kneeling, briskly gathered up dolls from the floor, securing them in the crook of her arm. “Yes.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “Wait a second.” She raced to the bathroom, dumped the dolls on the counter, told Brianna to let the water out of the tub and forbade her to turn on any jets before rushing back into the hallway and straight over to Brian.

  She folded her arms across her chest. “Lisette paid us a visit today. She came and stood right there on the front porch.”

  “Oh,” Brian said in a low voice. His face drooped. “I had no idea.”

  “I figured you didn’t. But you’re missing the worst part. Tyler answered the door.”

  “And?”

  “And from the way she looked and how she asked for you, the kid is smart enough to put two and two together.”

  “So he knows …”

  “Right.”

  “And he’s … ”

  “Sitting there. He needs a minute to think so leave him there.” Tracey stopped for a second. “He just told me he’s been thinking about going to live with Kyle. I don’t think that had anything to do with what he saw this morning, but he decided this was the right time to tell me.”

  Brian turned toward Tyler’s room. “I’ll go talk to him. Man to man.”

  “No, he needs a minute. Try to talk to him later. Look, find out why Lisette came to see you. I don’t want to see her show up again.”

  “Okay, come on. I’ll call her right now.” He turned towards their bedroom.

  Uh-uh. No. Tracey was sick to death of reacting to drama. Especially when it was caused by a pretty lady who seemed intent on causing trouble and probably expected to get a call from Brian immediately.

  “No. We’ll call her when I’m good and ready.” Tracey walked backwards toward the hall bathroom. “Right now I’m going to help clothe some naked dolls and possibly have a tea party afterwards.”

  14

  Tracey plugged her headphones into her cell, then speed-dialed Kyle. Might as well call him as she drove to the grocery store. She didn’t feel like having another heavy conversation in the house.

  Kyle picked up after one ring. “Hi Tracey,” he said, flatly.

  “We need to talk,” she said.

  “I figured I’d hear from you soon. Hold on.”

  Tracey kept driving, waiting until she heard Kyle’s voice again.

  “I had to find the remote to turn my music down,” he said.

  “Where are you?”

  “In the office trying to finish some work. I’m traveling all next week.” Kyle owned a sports agency business. He was always on the go.

  “Ty,” Tracey paused for a second, then got to the point. “Uh … today he said something about living with you?”

  “Yes, we talked about him coming up here.”

  She wheeled her car into the grocery store parking lot and scanned the crowded area for a place to park. “Not cool. You should have talked to me about that first.”

  “I didn’t plan on talking about it. Tyler brought up the idea.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, he did. And I agree with him.”

  Tracey sighed. “I don’t know why he started talking about living with you, but I am not about to stop on a dime and hand you over the keys to my baby boy like he’s a Chrysler 300.”

  “Of course not. Now, if he was a Bentley,” Kyle chuckled.

  “No jokes.” She pulled into a parking space. “Not today.”

  “Let me be serious then,” Kyle said as the faint sound of Kem crooning in the background ceased. “I have the right to try to make life better for him, even if it means moving him up to New York.”

  Tracey was adamant. “He’s my son. He’s always been with me and until he goes to college, he stays with me.”

  “Sounds like you’ve got your mind made up, huh?”

  “Sounds like I’m telling the truth.”

  “Here’s truth. He’s not happy. Conversation after conversation, every day after school he calls me. He told me he’s an afterthought in your house and you and Brian barely speak to each other or to him. So talk to your boy about how he feels, because when he talks to me, I get the impression he’d rather be somewhere else.”

  Tracey’s face grew hot as she gripped the steering wheel. “We have a few issues to work out.”

  “How many times this week did you wave Tyler to the side and tell him to watch his sister? When do you connect and talk to him? Oh, I know, when you have time left over after taking care of Brian, Brianna, and who knows what else.”

  If Kyle had snatched Tracey and pushed her headfirst into a scalding hot shower it couldn’t have made her wince more than hearing those words. She mashed her tongue between her lips, holding back acid words threatening to spill out if she didn’t control them.

  “It’s not really your business, but Brian and I are going through something right now.”

  “I know. Tyler called me an hour ago. You had a surprise visitor this morning?”

  So Tracey hadn’t exactly told Tyler to keep his mouth shut about Lisette’s appearance. “I’m not going talk about that right now,” Tracey said.

  “You don’t have to.”

  Tracey massaged her right temple with her fingertips. “How Ty feels? We’ll talk to him. He doesn’t need to pack up and move to New York because he’s feeling shut out.”

  “That’s not all of it, he’s also been thinking of coming up here because … ” Kyle paused. “Did Tyler tell you about my Pops?”

  “Not recently.”

  “Pop’s been on a few different medications and none seem to be working that well. He has his good days and bad days, but his quality of life is disappearing fast this year.”

  Kyle’s father, Thaddeus Addison, had been diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease ten years earlier. From what Tyler had told Tracey, she gathered the disease stayed under control with the help of medication. At the end of last summer, Tyler had come back to Pennsylvania with stories about how his grandfather’s trembling grew so bad he sometimes had trouble feeding himself. When he retired years ago, the former lawyer and judge had plans with his wife, Celeste, to travel the world. That was before Parkinson’s set in. Two years ago, Kyle sold his home in northern New Jersey and his parent’s home on Long Island, combined the money from both home sales and bought a larger house in Long Island. That was where he and his parents lived now, and where Kyle had designed a private area for his parents with a special bathroom and a chair lift in case his father ever needed additional help. It was the most selfless thing T
racey had ever heard of Kyle doing.

  “My Pop’s challenges are getting worse,” Kyle continued. “Years ago the doctors told my Mom the disease might not progress for decades. They must have told her that just to get her out of the office. All I know for sure is my father wants to spend more time with Tyler.”

  Tracey blinked at the rows of cars in the lot until they confused her. Her appetite disintegrated. What was she planning to cook for dinner again? “I’m going to have to talk to Tyler some more.”

  “I’ll be in Miami this coming week. Call you in a few days?”

  “That’s fine.”

  Tracey clicked the phone off and yanked the headphones from her ears. Forget the grocery store. She’d drive home and order take-out for dinner. Her baby boy might leave the nest sooner than later but for a reason deeper than escaping the Jones house. A problematic former mistress still had to be handled. And Tracey hadn’t checked on her own father in more than three days, even though she’d vowed to help him take better care of himself.

  Leaning over a stove was the last thing she wanted to do.

  Things were getting hot enough.

  “Tracey, did you order food? There’s a delivery guy at the door,” Brian called out.

  Tracey yelled back from the bathroom. “Yes, I did. Can you pay him and let the kids eat, please?”

  “Aren’t you going to eat?”

  “Not right now.”

  Tracey did her best thinking while sitting in the first floor bathroom. No one thought to look for her there. And even if they did, no one would barge in on her. She could sit there and pray long and hard. Clear her head. Figure things out.

  She stood up from the floor and gazed at herself in the full length mirror behind the bathroom door. Dark circles had taken up residence under her eyes. Faded jeans hung loosely around her waist. She pulled her leather belt tight. Her white and maroon t-shirt sagged around her chest and shoulders and frayed around the bottom edge. She reached up and tugged off the black elastic band from her ponytail. Get out of the bathroom and go deal with life, Tracey.