by Lou Mindar
“Why do you need a different job?” Scott asked. “We’re doing fine. Plus, I don’t want to live that far from the water.”
“Believe it or not, there’s water in Orlando,” Holly said. “And it’s not so much that I want a different job. What I want is more responsibility and more authority. I want to move up in the industry, and the job in Orlando is the next logical step in my career progression.”
Career progression. It sounded like something he would have said to Kathy.
“But why would you want to move up?” he asked. “We have enough money to live life on our own terms, and you certainly don’t need the additional headaches.”
Holly looked at him like he was speaking a foreign language. “It’s not important to you because you don’t work,” she said. “But since I have to, I want to do well in my career.”
Holly’s tone jabbed at Scott. She never used his lack of a career as a weapon before, but now, she was sharpening it. After making good on several bets, Scott began investing in the stock market. Just as with the sports bets, he knew which companies were going to do well and which were going to falter. His career was being an investor, but Holly didn’t see it that way.
“You don’t have to, you choose to,” Scott said. “My investments make enough for us to live on.”
“And then we both could sit around the house doing nothing all day.”
Holly never said anything like that when he was home with Taylor, but now that their daughter was in day care four days a week, Holly apparently expected Scott to get a job.
“I’m not in the mood to fight,” Scott said. “I’m going to bed.”
Holly didn’t respond, but after a couple of minutes, she came out of the bathroom, turned off the light, and climbed into bed. They were both silent for several minutes when Holly spoke. “Are we going to have sex?”
Even now, while they were fighting and there was no romance between them, she wanted sex. When they had started dating, Holly’s aggressiveness in bed had been a turn on. She knew what she wanted, and she directed Scott on how to please her. Over the years, the sex had become utilitarian. They rarely indulged in foreplay, instead launching right into intercourse. When they were done, Holly would roll over and go to sleep.
At daycare, the kids were outside running around in the grass. When he saw Taylor, he smiled and waved. Taylor smiled and sprinted across the yard toward him. Just as she got to the parking lot, she tripped and went sprawling, skidding across the pavement. Scott ran to her. She cried, and he picked her up, trying to comfort her.
A daycare worker brought out a handful of paper towels to blot the blood. Taylor’s chin and elbow were scraped, and there was a gash on her knee that was bleeding badly.
“She might need stitches,” the daycare worker said.
Scott held his crying daughter. “I think I’m going to take her to the emergency room.” He carried Taylor to the car, then pulled out of the parking lot.
“Are we going to the hops-it-all?” Taylor asked through her tears.
“I think we’re going to go see Dr. Cal instead. That would be better, don’t you think?”
Taylor nodded.
*
A nurse directed them into an examination room, and a couple of minutes later, Cal walked in. “Oh oh, what happened to you?”
“I fell down.”
“Oh no,” he said. He reached for the bandage on her knee. “Can I take a look.”
Taylor nodded.
The bandage was soaked in blood and came off easily. “That’s not too bad,” Cal said. “I think we can take care of that without any stitches.” He grabbed several gauze pads and applied them to the wound. “Why didn’t you take her to the ER?”
“You were closer, and I knew she’d be more comfortable with you.”
“Makes sense.” Cal kept his focus on Taylor’s knee. “I think this might leave a little scar, but it shouldn’t be too bad.”
“There’s something else,” Scott said.
Cal looked at Scott and raised his eyebrows.
“Would it be possible to do a DNA test using the blood from her knee?”
Cal inhaled sharply, then let his breath out slowly. “Are you having doubts?” he asked.
Scott half-shrugged. “I just want to make sure.”
Chapter 70
October 1989
Holly got home a little after seven. Taylor was in the living room watching a VHS tape of Inspector Gadget. Scott was in the kitchen sitting at the table when Holly walked in the door.
“Oh, hi,” she said. “I didn’t expect you to be sitting right here when I got home.”
“Sit down.” Scott pointed at the chair across the table from him.
“Let me get changed first,” Holly said.
She began to walk out of the kitchen, but Scott grabbed her wrist as she walked by. His initial grip was tighter than necessary, so he loosened it. “Sit down. This can’t wait.”
Holly placed her purse and over-the-shoulder briefcase on the table and sat in the chair across from Scott. She rubbed her wrist. “What’s so important?”
“After Taylor fell at daycare, I had a DNA test run.” Scott’s voice was calm and patient. He had practiced this talk in his mind a hundred times. “I’m not her father.”
“That can’t be,” Holly said. “Of course, you’re her father.”
Scott handed her a copy of the DNA test results. “I’m not, Holly.”
Tears welled up in Holly’s eyes and rolled down her cheeks. “No, honey. No, that’s not true.” She reached across the table to grab his hand, but he recoiled from her.
“Here’s what’s going to happen: we’re going to get divorced. You won’t contest it. There’ll be no alimony or child support. I’ve set up a trust fund for Taylor. She can use it for college or whatever she wants when she’s eighteen. You won’t have access to the money.” Scott leaned back in his chair and put his hands on top of his head. “I love that little girl, and I want her to have a wonderful life, but her father—her real father—should be a part of it, not me.”
Holly buried her head in her hands and sobbed. “No. This isn’t right.”
“I’m leaving tonight. My bags are already packed and in my truck. The divorce papers have been filed. All you need to do is sign them.”
Holly looked up. She was no longer sobbing. “And if I don’t?” she asked. There was an edge to her voice.
“Then we’ll have a messy divorce that will feature your child’s DNA results. I might even have to pass the results around at the hospital to see if we can find Taylor’s real father.”
Holly’s eyes grew big. “You wouldn’t do that.”
“Just sign the papers when you get them.”
Holly began sobbing. “What am I supposed to tell Taylor?”
“Try the truth.” Scott stood and walked toward the door.
“Scott, stop,” she said. “Just sit and talk to me about this.”
Scott stopped for a moment but didn’t turn around. He was tempted to give in and sit down. He had thought about not revealing the DNA test results. Instead of being the end, this could just be a bump in the road. But his marriage to Holly wasn’t at all how he thought it would be. More than anything, he felt he was given another shot at life, not just to build a relationship with a different woman, but to be happy.
Scott lowered his head and walked out the door.
Chapter 71
November 1989
The same two teenagers were loitering around Kathy’s office when he got there. He paid them the same fifty dollars, then watched them puncture the same two tires. That night, he called Kathy’s house, heard her voice, and hung up the phone.
*
Scott enjoyed seeing his parents, but staying with them, or near them, wasn’t in the cards. They had encouraged him to stay, to re-start his life in his old hometown. He loved his parents, but he was far past living in their shadow.
He decided to travel. He drove to California
and spent time in San Diego. He thought about going to LA, but Gabby wasn’t there, so what was the point. Then he flew to Hawaii and spent a month in a hotel on the big island. He returned to San Diego, hopped in his car, and drove across the U.S. to New York. From there, he flew to Europe, spending time in Italy, France, Germany, and Spain. He took in the sights, ate the food, and enjoyed the night life. He also spoke Italian and Spanish to the locals. He was rusty at first, but the languages came back to him. Problem was, he felt like he was wasting time, avoiding his life rather than living it.
Back in the states, he drove south, taking his time. Eventually, he hit Florida, and drove down the west side of the state, avoiding Cocoa Beach and Holly. He thought about visiting. He missed Taylor more than he thought he would, but he had no desire to see her mother. He kept driving south until finally stopping just short of Key West.
He rented a house on Big Pine Key, on the northwest side of the island. Florida Bay was in his backyard, and there was plenty of water to explore. This would be his home. Whatever was going to happen next, it would happen here.
Chapter 72
March 1992
The kayak glided effortlessly across the glass-flat water of Florida Bay. Each paddle stroke created a v-shaped disturbance in the water that quickly healed itself, returning the water to its previous mirror-like perfection.
As he returned from circumnavigating Howe Key, he noticed a woman, his next-door-neighbor, Sheri, on the dock. She introduced herself when she first moved in, but other than an occasional wave, they hadn’t spoken. He didn’t even know her last name.
When he got close, she waved, and he returned the gesture. He hopped out of the kayak and dragged it through the shallow water onto shore.
“Hi, Sheri.” Scott secured the kayak to a dock post. “Is everything okay?”
Sheri was tall and athletic with blond hair and a Florida Keys tan. She smiled a sheepish grin. “I’ve locked myself out of my house, and I was hoping you could help me get in.”
“Sure, what can I do?”
“I just need a boost, up to the window.”
Scott followed her across the yard to the house she rented next to his. She pointed to a window above a screened porch. “That window doesn’t lock. If you could boost me up to the roof, I should be able to get in.”
Scott looked at her, unsure of what to do.
“Like this.” Sheri intertwined her fingers, palms up, and bent over, holding her hands out in front of her.
Scott followed her instructions.
“Come a little closer to the wall.”
He did as he was told, and Sheri placed her left foot into his hands. She used the wall for balance and put her weight into Scott’s interlocked hands. She reached for the roof and Scott stood a little taller to help her ascent. Sheri pulled herself up onto the roof, then walked to the window, which opened easily. “Meet me at the front door,” she said.
Scott walked around the side of the house to the front. In a moment, Sheri opened the door. She had a big smile on her face.
“Thanks, Scott. I appreciate your help.”
“No problem. I’m glad it worked out.” He was about to walk away, but Sheri kept talking.
“Would you like to come over for dinner tonight?” she asked. “It’s the least I can do to thank you.”
Scott stopped and turned back toward her. “Sure, that would be great.” He turned again and, with his thumb, pointed toward his house. “I’ll see you tonight.”
*
“I have to warn you, I’m not much of a cook,” Sheri said. She was in the kitchen preparing the food, and Scott sat at the breakfast bar. Steam rose from a large pot on the stove, and Sheri stirred a smaller pot of sauce.
“You could have fooled me,” Scott said. “You look like a natural, and the food smells great.”
“I know you’re just being sweet, but thank you for lying.” Sheri laughed. “Would you like another beer?”
Scott looked at his bottle. There were still a couple swallows left. “Absolutely.”
Sheri reached into the refrigerator and pulled out another bottle of beer. She twisted off the top and handed the bottle to Scott. Their hands brushed as she handed him the fresh beer.
“You’ve lived down here a while,” she said. “What brought you to the Keys?”
Scott finished his old beer and pushed the bottle to the side. He moved the fresh beer in front of himself and ran his finger through the condensation on the bottle. “You know the old saying, everybody who comes to the Keys is running from something.”
“What are you running from?” she asked.
“Nothing too dramatic,” he said. “Just a failed marriage.”
“Me too,” she said. “We should compare notes. You go first.”
“You sure you want to hear this sad tale?”
“Absolutely,” she said. “I look forward to it.”
Scott told her about Holly and about finding out that Taylor wasn’t his daughter.
“Ouch, that had to hurt,” she said.
Scott wanted to explain that he never felt the closeness to Taylor that he had felt for Robbie and Allie, but he knew he couldn’t make it make sense. “It did,” he finally said. “I set up a trust fund for her before I left. She’s not mine, but I want to make sure she’s taken care of.”
“What about Holly? Did you give any thought to trying again?”
“I thought long and hard about it,” Scott said. “I kept telling myself that one mistake shouldn’t ruin an otherwise good relationship.”
“So, why didn’t you try again?”
Scott shook his head. “Don’t get me wrong, Holly had some good qualities. But Holly was always out for Holly. I had to make all the sacrifices. I gave up law school to move to Florida with her. I gave up my business to stay home with Taylor so she could work. But I wasn’t willing to also raise someone else’s daughter so Holly could carry on with her life.” Scott took a long pull on his beer. “I don’t mean to sound egotistic, but after thinking about giving the marriage another chance, I decided that I deserved better.”
“I agree,” Sheri said. “I think you do.”
“Enough about me,” Scott said. “Your turn.”
“My story will have to wait. The spaghetti is ready.”
Sheri strained the spaghetti noodles, then poured them into a bowl. She grabbed another bowl out of the cupboard and poured the sauce into it, then carried one bowl to the dining room table while Scott carried the other.
“Go ahead and sit,” Sheri said. “I just need to grab the garlic bread.” When she returned, she had a basket of garlic bread and a fresh beer for Scott.
“Help yourself,” Sheri said. She handed Scott the beer.
Scott filled his plate, then waited for Sheri to do the same.
“I think you’re sandbagging as a cook,” Scott said. “This looks really good.”
Sheri smiled. “It’s one of the few things I know how to make.”
“Better to be great at one thing than mediocre at many,” Scott said.
“I’ve never heard that saying before. What’s it from?”
“I just made it up, and I’m not even sure I agree with it, but it did sound good, didn’t it?”
Sheri covered her mouth while she chewed and laughed.
“Your turn to regale me with tales from your marriage,” Scott said.
Sheri stopped laughing and cleared her throat. “I guess it’s only fair.” She took a swig of her beer and placed it carefully next to her plate. “I was married young. I was living up in Ohio and was mostly looking for a way out. My parents argued all the time, they were both drunks. I moved out when I was eighteen, but they kept pulling me back into their dysfunctional lives.” She took another drink of her beer and sat back in her chair.
“I met Jack shortly after I moved out. He was cute and funny, but most of all, he was willing to get the hell out of Dodge. We moved to Orlando and got married the next year. Problem was, Jack liked t
o hit me. I let it go on for a while. At one point, I even thought I deserved it, like I had done something to provoke it. He’d apologize and swear he’d never do it again, but it didn’t stop. In fact, it got worse instead of better. What used to be a hard slap turned into a punch, then a kick, then an all-out beating.”
Scott stopped eating.
“At first, I stuck around because I wanted to save our marriage. But just like you, I finally decided I deserved better. Plus, I was afraid the bastard would kill me if I didn’t get out. So, I did.”
“Wow, quite a story,” Scott said.
“That’s only part of it,” Sheri said. “Want to hear the rest?”
“Of course.”
Sheri took another drink of her beer. “After I divorced Jack, I started dating Brad. He was a lot of fun, and he paid attention to me in the right ways: sending flowers, leaving love notes, those types of things. He also owned his own business and made lots of money. After being dirt poor with Jack, having money seemed like a good thing. We got married a year and a day after my divorce from Jack was final. Somehow along the way, I hadn’t noticed that Brad had a drinking problem. Or if I saw it, I thought it was better than getting beat up all the time. So, I ignored it at first, then when it became an issue, I covered for him. I cleaned up his puke when he’d get sick and I drove him around after he got a DUI. He got three during our five years of marriage. I didn’t want to get another divorce, but I could see that the drinking was going to kill him. So, I gave him an ultimatum: either he could get help or he could lose me. He chose losing me over getting sober. Even paid me a good chunk of money to go away. That was a little over a year ago, and I’ve been here ever since.”
“I’m so sorry, Sheri,” Scott said. “Both of those stories sound horrible.”
Sheri nodded. “They were, but there’s one important thing I learned along the way. If you’re not happy with yourself, you’ll never be happy with someone else. Jack and Brad had their problems, but I was the one who kept getting into relationships for the wrong reasons. I thought they could fix things that were going wrong in my life. It never dawned on me that I should fix those things before getting into a relationship. Now I know, before I can be good with someone else, I have to be good being by myself.”