A Family Woman

by T. B. Markinson

  I dialed Sarah’s number.

  “You cooled off?” she answered.

  I didn’t bother replying. “I know I ditched you with the twins all morning, but my dad wants to meet for lunch today. Is that okay?” My voice came out frostier than I intended.

  “Fine with me. Shall the babes stay at my mom’s tonight?”

  “Do you think they should?” I softened my tone.

  She breathed into the phone. “Of course I don’t want them to, but I don’t want them to pick up on—”

  “I get it.”

  She heaved a sigh. “I don’t. My mind is still reeling about the whole situation.”

  “I’m right there with you. But I promise not to pout and throw things in front of the twins.”

  She belly-laughed. “Stop by after you shower, okay? Seeing the twinkies will probably perk you up a bit before your powwow with Charles. We’re trying to pick out Halloween costumes. Fred makes a beautiful princess, but Ollie wouldn’t have a thing to do with the purple dress.”

  I curbed a retort about putting a dress on our son, knowing Sarah was adamantly opposed to adhering to strict gender norms. Instead, I said, “She takes after me.” I sat on one of the barstools in the kitchen and doodled on the notepad.

  “Hurry up. I miss you.”

  I rushed through my shower, and within thirty minutes I’d made it to Rose’s living room and was holding a squirming Ollie, who was dressed in a daffodil costume.

  “You going to confront your dad?” Sarah asked. Rose and Fred were in the nursery Rose had set up in her home for when the twins stayed over. It was almost identical to the one in our house.

  “Nope. I have a feeling he’s going to confront me. Funny how my family forgot all about me for years, but now that everything is crumbling, my brother and my father suddenly want to open up. I don’t know how much more crisis control I can take. And now Maddie too… I mean, I knew she was struggling, trying to find a hobby or whatever, but not in a million years did I see this coming.”

  “I don’t know what to do or say either. I might adopt the stick-your-head in-the-sand routine.”

  “Finally seeing the allure of my method? And to think of all the times you’ve pleaded with me to open up.” I laughed.

  “I know you didn’t have the best childhood, but please tell me it wasn’t this drama-filled.” She plowed on to a different topic. “Or maybe all families are like this. I don’t know. I only have my mom.”

  “You’re asking the wrong person.”

  “Don’t worry too much. I’m sure everything will work out eventually.” She studied my face, her eyes darkening with concern. “Maybe it’s time for our family to take a trip to the zoo.”

  I smiled. “Aren’t they a little young?”

  “Never too young. And I think it will do their mommy good to spend some quality time with the otters—not the Kit version.”

  I laughed. “If Peter divorces Tie, at least we won’t have to deal with Kit and Courtney either.”

  “They’d still be Peter’s child’s aunt and uncle, if they marry, and could pop up on special occasions, like graduations or weddings.”

  “Good grief. Is there no end to the Petrie tangled webs?”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Dad sat in a booth situated by the kitchen of the small, family-run restaurant. He rose and smiled awkwardly when he spotted me. “So glad you could make it,” he said.

  I slid into the booth across from him. “I’ve never been here. Is it good?”

  He eyed me. “It’s my first time. Gabe recommended it.”

  “Gabe?” I shook out my folded napkin and placed it on my lap.

  “Helen’s oldest son. He lived here in Fort Collins back when Helen first opened up a shop in Old Town.”

  “I see.”

  Dad glanced toward the kitchen, where a man in a chef’s hat was busy grabbing a pan off a sizzling burner and dramatically shaking the contents. The scent of grilled peppers, onions, and spicy beef permeated the room.

  “Ever since I’ve known Gabe, he’s wanted to go into business. He pestered his mother for months to get the shop up and running here.”

  “Is Allen business-oriented, like Gabe and Peter?” I decided the best defense was offense.

  “No. Allen… Allen isn’t sure what he wants to do. He likes history.”

  Did I get the history gene from Dad?

  “Really?”

  “Yeah.” He motioned for the waiter. “What would you like to drink, Lizzie?”

  The waiter smiled expectantly, his pen hovering over a notebook.

  “Coke, please.”

  Dad ordered a Corona with a lime wedge.

  Seriously, it was like I’d never met the man. “No bourbon?”

  I remembered what my brother’s recent bourbon spree had led to. At least Dad had a driver, so he wouldn’t have to stay at my house and get into mischief.

  “They only have margaritas, beer, and wine. The fajitas smell good. I think I’ll go with that.”

  I set my menu to the side. “Me too.”

  The waiter returned with our drinks, and we placed our order for steak fajitas and watched as he whisked the menus out of sight, leaving me nothing to distract myself with. I fidgeted with the fringe of the colorful tablecloth, which matched the small curtains bunched at the top of the restaurant’s windows. A fake palm tree with faux margarita glasses dangling from the fronds sat behind my father’s head.

  Dad cleared his throat but didn’t say anything.

  Awkward silence followed. Or rather, there was awkward silence, and then there was the awkward silence of lunching with your father days after finding out he’d had another secret family for decades—a family he was obviously close to, despite ignoring your existence for years.

  “I didn’t want you to find out that way.” His shoulders drooped. “I should have been the one to tell you. Helen feels awful about it.”

  I nodded. “She seems nice.”

  “She is.”

  Another silence slipped between us, and I tried to imagine what Sarah would say in this moment.

  “Did Mom know?”

  He shifted in his seat. “Not everything.”

  “Why didn’t you leave? Tell her the truth?”

  “Never figured out a way to leave.” He glanced down at his hand, gripping the beer bottle. “It was complicated.”

  “And Helen was fine with that?”

  He grunted almost inaudibly. “It wasn’t the ideal situation, but she had her own life with her business and—”

  “Two sons.”

  “I was going to say her family and friends.”

  The waiter appeared, carrying a tray over his head. A billow of steam followed him. “Here you go.” He arranged our plates, two tortilla containers and side dishes of shredded cheese, black beans, sour cream, guacamole, salsa, and Spanish rice.

  The tortillas were toasty warm, but that didn’t stop me from loading one up to the point I could barely fold it into my mouth. Dad committed the same error.

  After we’d both finished our second gut-stuffing fajita, he leaned back in his seat and lifted his gaze to mine. “I can’t apologize for the past. I can only move forward.”

  “With your family, with Helen.”

  Dad cupped a hand over mine. It was the first time I think he’d ever touched me like that, as far as I remembered. “It doesn’t have to be like that. I want you and Peter in my life.”

  “Now you do. What about all those years I never heard from you?” I traced my fork along the lines in the tablecloth.

  He leaned back. “I don’t remember you banging down my door, either.”

  “Never thought I was wanted.”

  He sighed. “Neither did I.”

  It was true. I ran from all of them. I kept my own secrets, good and bad. Maybe it was time I didn’t. “I have Graves’ disease,” I blurted out.

  He blinked. “Is
it…?”

  “Fatal?”

  He nodded, open-mouthed.

  “Without treatment, yes. But I’ve been in remission. It’s easy to manage, fortunately.”

  “How long have you been in remission?”

  “Years, now. Sometimes I forget I ever went through it.”

  Dad rested his chin on steepled fingers. “I see. Was Sarah there for you?”

  I shook my head. “It was before I met her. She was present for the tail end of it. She celebrated with me when I no longer had to take all the pills. In the beginning, they made me sick as a dog.”

  “I always assumed… You were so successful in school. I never thought…” His quivering voice trailed off.

  “That I needed you?”

  He remained stone-faced but took a generous swig of Corona.

  I shifted in my seat. “She told me that once. That she hated me because I didn’t need her.”

  He blinked. “Who told you that?”

  “Mom. Near the end. I asked her why she’d never loved me.”

  My father stiffened, sucking in his lips as if he was carefully mulling over his words. “I don’t think that’s true. I think your mother hated herself for not being the mother she wanted to be for you. Even at a young age, it was clear you were—quiet. She didn’t know how to handle quiet.” The trace of a smile brightened his eyes. “I always liked that about you. Today’s world needs more thinkers. You were the complete opposite of Peter. He was talking about all the things he wanted to accomplish.”

  “Mom doted on him.”

  “Only to needle you. Peter figured it out, I think. That stung him more than you’ll know. Your mother was a… difficult woman. If I could go back, I would have left, no matter what. To save both of you.”

  “No matter what? What do you mean?”

  “She made threats.” He waved a dismissive hand, his eyes downcast, focused on the tablecloth. “It doesn’t matter now.”

  “Yes, it does. What threats?”

  “To destroy me, my company. That I could have lived with. But she also threatened to destroy you. Peter. Never let me see either of you. After she found out you were gay, she wanted to cut you off financially.”

  It was hard to believe he’d stayed solely for Peter and me. “And Helen? Did she make threats against her?”

  His eyes understood my implication that there was more to the story. “Yes. She swore black and blue that she’d destroy Helen. I couldn’t let her do that. I couldn’t let her go after any of you. And if she’d ever found out about Allen, I don’t know what she would have done.”

  “How did you keep it—Allen—from her?”

  He sighed. “Your mother never really wanted to know the truth. She asked, and I denied, denied, and denied. The thing that mattered most to her was that no one in our circle knew. That there wasn’t anything for the ladies at the club to gossip about.”

  I thought back to Peter asking what people would think if he was Dad’s best man. So much bother, keeping people quiet—people who didn’t matter anyway.

  I swallowed. “I had no idea.”

  “It doesn’t matter now.” His shoulders relaxed.

  “Do you think Peter will turn out like her? He stole Uncle Jerry’s money from me.”

  He bolted upright. “What do you mean?”

  “You didn’t know?”

  His fierce headshake suggested he didn’t.

  “When Peter found out Jerry was dying, he visited him and outed me. Uncle Jerry changed his will days before he died. Mom gloated over that. Peter’s triumph, I guess.”

  The vein on my father’s forehead bulged. “No, I didn’t know.” He folded his hands on the table. “I don’t even know what to say.”

  “I think that’s why I always stay quiet when it comes to family stuff. I never know how to explain all the… the—”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Yeah, the bullshit. Is Allen like Peter?”

  Dad’s face softened. “He takes after Helen, but he reminds me a lot of you. Quietly determined. Maybe someday you two can get to know each other.”

  “I’m assuming we’ll meet at the wedding.”

  He laughed. “Well, there’s that. But I meant on a different level.”

  He meant on a sibling level. Well, that hadn’t worked out so well for me in the past.

  “Why did you introduce Helen to Peter and not me?”

  “You know about that?”

  “Peter came over for lunch yesterday. We had a heart-to-heart.”

  “I wanted him to know that not all mothers were like yours. I realized later that it was a mistake, so I didn’t repeat it with you.” Dad motioned for another beer. “I love your brother, but he makes life so much harder than it needs to be.”

  You’re telling me. And Dad didn’t even know about the Maddie situation. “Have you spoken with him lately?”

  “Briefly. Everything okay?”

  I coughed into my napkin. “Not sure, really. My guess is no.”

  “I’m surprised he talked to you.”

  I laughed. “Me too. Must have been desperate.”

  Dad’s face relaxed. “You know I didn’t mean it like that. He keeps all his cards close to his chest.”

  “I think we all do. Does he know about Allen?”

  “I haven’t figured out how to tell him… yet. Peter thinks differently than you do.”

  “Inheritance.”

  “Exactly. Learning about Jerry makes things even thornier.”

  Indeed.

  “Maybe becoming a father will change him. I know being a mother has changed me for the good. I hope at least.”

  Dad sat upright. “Is Tiffany pregnant?”

  Crap. I slapped a hand over my loose lips for a moment. “That slipped out,” I said eventually. “I should have let him tell you.”

  He waved off my concern. “I’ll act surprised.”

  That made me laugh since the man hardly ever showed any type of emotion.

  “Oh.” I perked up in my seat. “Speaking of babies, I almost forgot. Sarah thought you’d like a recent photo of the twins.” I scrounged in my messenger bag and withdrew the gift.

  He stared fondly at the photo Maddie had snapped of me juggling a baby on each hip.

  “They’re getting so big,” he said, smiling.

  “Monster-sized. We can go see them if you’d like.”

  “I would like that. Very much.”

  ***

  “How you hanging in?” Sarah climbed into bed after putting the twins down for the night—or for a few hours, hopefully.

  “That depends.” I bundled her into my arms.

  “On what?” She nuzzled into the crook of my neck.

  “If anyone plans to dump more of their shit on me.”

  “Does that mean it’s a good time to mention—?”

  I smothered her mouth with my palm. She pretended to wave a white flag, and I released her.

  “You going to meet Allen?” she asked in a tone that didn’t lend any insight into her feelings on the subject.

  I emitted a troubled sigh. “Dad wants me to. After all these years, I think he wants everything to seem normal.”

  After my lunch with Dad, I’d spent several hours filling Sarah in on the conversation, particularly about my mother’s threats.

  “I can’t blame the man. So much to keep hidden.” Sarah rested on her elbow and propped her head on her hand. Her other arm was draped over my stomach. “And so much for you to accept at face value.”

  “Rome wasn’t built in a day.”

  She smiled. “Do you ever run out of history references?”

  “I hope not. Wouldn’t say much about my teaching abilities.”

  She whacked my chest.

  “Hey, what’d I say about adding more woes to my life? The last thing I need right now is a broken rib.”

  “What’s the first thing you want?” Her eyes narro
wed.

  I examined the monitors. The twinks were sound asleep. “Do you think we have the time and energy?” I did my best to flash a seductive grin. “It doesn’t seem right that Maddie and Peter got busy in our home and we haven’t done that since before the twins popped out, months ago. You said the doctor gave you the all clear.”

  “Wow! Your powers of seduction are severely lacking. You managed to reference Maddie, Peter, and the birthing process.”

  “I’m out of practice.” I leaned into a kiss that was met with vigor. “But I think it’s time to get back on the horse.” I shoved all thoughts of the messy birth to a far corner in my brain, doing my best to lock it up for good. Sarah didn’t want me to put her into a mom box, and the last twenty-four hours had taught me a lot about life: cherish the one you love, because more than likely, even your best friend will disappoint you.

  “Still not wooing me,” she teased.

  “Shut up and get naked.”

  She shimmied out of her silk nightgown, her smile widening with sinful guilt.

  I rolled her onto her back. “It’s been so long since I’ve had a taste.” My knee separated her legs.

  Sarah stripped my T-shirt off in one motion. “God, I’ve missed you,” she murmured, capturing my mouth with a sensual intensity. “Giddyup.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  The next morning, Rose came over to watch the babies so Sarah and I could go to breakfast together before my class. I wasn’t sure how much Rose knew about the events that had occurred the day before, but her sympathetic expression clued me in to Sarah’s real agenda for breakfast.

  Since time was always short these days, we ate at a café across the street from campus. The place buzzed with caffeinated energy.

  I stirred brown sugar into a steaming cup of Earl Grey, one eye squinted.

  Sarah laughed and folded her arms. “You know, don’t you?”

  “That I’m about to be reamed? Kinda.”

  “Reamed.” She laughed harder. “I thought I did that last night.”

  “I think I prefer your definition over mine.” I winked but then signaled with a flick of my hand to get it over with.

  “I’m just worried. You have so much on your plate right now, and I don’t want you—us—to destroy the relationships that matter.”