Here and Now

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Here and Now Page 25

by Constance O'Day-Flannery


  However, she thought, while looking at her reflection in the mirror, there was a time and place for Armani, and going to court to get divorced was one of them. Satisfied with what she saw, she took a deep breath and left her bedroom.

  Charlie was feeding Matty his bottle of water when she came downstairs. “Well, I’m off,” she said cheerily, though her stomach was in a tight knot.

  Charlie looked up from her son and his expression was priceless.

  “Well?” she asked, doing a neat pirouette in the foyer.

  “You look so… different,” he muttered.

  “Ah, different good, or different bad?” Her self-confidence was starting to slide away.

  “Different good, I guess. I’ve just never seen you looking so…” His voice trailed off as though he couldn’t find the right word.

  “Dressed.” She supplied it with a grin.

  “You just look so dignified, so proper.”

  “And you’re used to me in jeans and T-shirts,” she added, walking over to him. “I do have other clothes.” She bent down and kissed Matty’s forehead and then patted Charlie’s arm. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  Nodding, Charlie said, “We’ll be fine. And Suzanne?”

  She turned around at the door. “Yes?”

  “You look lovely.”

  Her heart melted and she smiled back at him. “Thanks.”

  “Good luck.”

  Luck. It seemed to be on her side, for a change.

  Charlie looked down at the baby in his arms. He couldn’t deny the surge of affection that ran through him when he looked into Matty’s soft blue eyes. Truth was, he was torn by the emotions running within him. This child he now held was the great-grandson of Mitch Davies, the son of Kevin McDermott, both of whom he considered unconscionable bastards, yet he couldn’t hold the babe responsible for the actions of his ancestors.

  He had been there for Matty’s birth, brought him home from the hospital. Changed him, bathed him, fed him. He was more a father than his own. And despite what he felt, he knew he couldn’t stay and raise him, for it would be a daily reminder of everything he had lost and how he had been betrayed. He loved Suzanne, and God help him, he loved Matty, but he had to be honest. Right now, Matty was a reminder of Mitch and he knew he couldn’t stay.

  He felt guilty for his feelings and knew he could never tell Suzanne the real reason he would be leaving now. Let her think it was because he wanted to get away and find himself, as she put it.

  “I’m sorry, lad,” he whispered down to Matty, who was staring up at him with what looked like adoration. He knew what it was like to want so desperately the approval and love of a father. His own had none to give him. He wouldn’t do that to this innocent child. One day Suzanne would move on, and Matty was too young to remember him.

  But still, his heart felt like it was breaking apart. One more loss.

  Suzanne sat with Laura at the plaintiffs’ table. She was so glad Kevin hadn’t shown up, though why would he, when he always took the easy way out? So again she would be the adult and go to court to make sure the proceedings were final. Her mind traveled back as she recalled being the only one to call whenever anything needed to be done around the house. If there was an unpleasantness, she had always taken care of it, handled it so he wouldn’t have to be bothered. That’s what Kevin would say to her. Handle it. What he meant was, make it go away.

  She blinked a few times, trying to stop the memories.

  It wasn’t a very impressive courtroom, and she’d answered yes to about five questions, dealing with her intent to petition for divorce. She answered yes to irreconcilable differences and her voice had been strong and emphatic. There was no reconciling the differences between herself and Kevin McDermott. Feeling she ought to pay more attention to the judge, she focused on him and what he was saying.

  “This matter having been presented to the Court by Laura Silverman, Esquire, attorney for the plaintiff, Suzanne Marie McDermott, and the Court having heard and considered the complaint and it appearing that the parties were married, and the plaintiff having pleaded and proved a cause of action for divorce under the statute in such case made and provided, and the plaintiff having been a bona fide resident of the State for more than one year, it is by the Superior Court of New Jersey, Chancery Division, Family Part, ordered and adjudged, and such court by virtue of power and authority of this Court does hereby order and adjudge that the plaintiff, Suzanne Marie McDermott, and the defendant, Kevin Michael McDermott, be divorced from the bonds of matrimony.”

  That was it? She was divorced? She looked at Laura, who motioned with her head to wait. There was more.

  “It is further ordered that the agreement entered into by and between the parties regarding support, disposition of property, and other collateral issues is hereby permitted by this Court to be made part of this judgment. It is further ordered that pursuant to Paragraph one point one of the said agreement, wife shall have full custody of the unemancipated child of the marriage, Matthew Charles McDermott.”

  The judge banged his gavel and looked directly at Suzanne. “Good luck in your life, madam.”

  “Thank you,” she answered, startled by his consideration.

  Laura touched her forearm. “We’re done, Suzanne. Let’s go.”

  Nodding, feeling numb at the finality, she rose from her chair and walked out of the courtroom. Funny, she wasn’t sure what to expect, but she thought it would have taken more than five minutes to end a marriage. She was stunned by how easy it was. Maybe she wanted something more final so she would feel it really was over.

  “That’s it?” she asked Laura when they were in the hallway.

  “That’s it. Congratulations. You’re a single woman again.”

  “Single. Hard to believe it’s over, just like that.”

  “Oh, it was over a long time ago, Suzanne. This just makes it all legal.”

  She glanced at Laura. “Doesn’t all this make you cynical about marriage? Is that why you’re still single?”

  “Oh, you wouldn’t want to know my views of the institution of marriage.”

  “I would,” Suzanne insisted, as they walked toward the parking lot.

  “Well, first of all, who the hell wants to be in an institution? I’d change the label of it and then I’d change the contract. I’d make it renewable every seven years.”

  “Renewable?”

  “Sure. Think about it. Once the romance wears off, and it always does, if you really loved your spouse and you knew your contract was up for renewal, would you take that person for granted? Not if you wanted to continue the marriage. You’d try harder to communicate, and if it didn’t work there would be a way out without everyone being put through this emotional wringer.”

  Suzanne thought about it and immediately liked the idea. “A renewable marriage contract. You’re right, Laura, you wouldn’t take the other person for granted. You’d really work on the relationship, instead of thinking it would always be there. People who were married would really want to be married, instead of…” Her words trailed off.

  “Instead of being in an institution,” Laura supplied.

  “Exactly!” She laughed. “You should work on this, Laura. I think plenty of people would agree with you.”

  “What? And ruin a good career?” Chuckling, Laura shook her head. “Anyway, we were talking about you being single again. What are your plans?”

  “How can I get back my maiden name?”

  Walking with her through the huge parking lot, Laura asked, “Are you sure you want a different name than your son’s? It might prove difficult as he gets older.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that,” she answered, putting on her sunglasses and looking toward her car.

  “Well, think about it. We can do it later, if you still want.”

  They stopped at Suzanne’s car. “Thank you, Laura. I never expected it to be this fast.”

  “We were lucky I could pull a few strings to get your case higher o
n the docket.”

  “Well, thank your contacts, whoever they are. I am indebted.”

  “Speaking of that, you might get the opportunity to thank him yourself.”

  “I will? How?”

  “First of all, the results came back on the silversmith’s marking. A man by the name of Abraham Rissen made it. He had a shop in Trenton. And here’s the part I still can’t believe: He died in nineteen twenty-nine.”

  Suzanne felt goose bumps rising on her arms. “So then if the hair in the keepsake is the same as Charlie’s, then—”

  “Then we all should be committed to Ancora State Hospital, because this is freakin’ incredible!”

  Suzanne laughed. “I know how you feel, Laura. But you’ll see when the DNA tests come back. Now how and why am I going to meet this contact of yours?”

  “Ah, here’s the good part,” she said with a mischievous grin. “Wait till you hear what Sam Knueson and I came up with.”

  He stood at the gravesite, staring at the headstone with Grace’s name, the date of her birth, and the date of her death. There was a dash between the two dates, and Charlie kept staring at the dash. That was her life. A dash. He felt the emotion welling up inside of him, wishing that he could have loved her the way she had loved him. He felt like he had somehow failed her, though he knew he didn’t ask to be taken away. Still, her life, through her letter and what Suzanne had told him, had sounded so sad. Whereas her capacity for love was great, she ended up being surrounded by those who couldn’t love. He imagined her life with Mitch and he felt even worse.

  He didn’t seem to bring luck to those who loved him.

  Feeling a deep ache within his chest, he blinked back the tears. What good would tears do now? It wouldn’t bring back anything. It was all gone, lost by the greed of one man. He took a deep breath and set his jaw, determined not to lose control. Not now. Not yet. Suzanne had said it would be less than a week before he would see Mitch. He pictured in his mind strangling the very life force out of his body, making him pay for marrying Grace, for taking his land, for living his dreams.

  “I’m so sorry, Grace,” he whispered, his throat raw from unshed tears. Placing a bouquet of spring flowers at the headstone, he touched the marble briefly and then turned away.

  Suzanne watched him walking back to the car. She straightened in the driver’s seat and was thankful Matty was fed and asleep. She could tell by the grim set of his facial muscles that he was very upset, and it was understandable. Not knowing what to say to him, she prayed the right words would come out of her mouth. It was odd that she felt no jealousy toward his memories of Grace. Somehow, she felt honored that they loved the same man.

  He opened the car door and slid onto the passenger seat.

  “You okay?”

  He nodded, staring out the front window.

  “You want to talk about anything?”

  He shook his head, yet she saw the muscles in his jaw working as though he was clenching his back teeth.

  “All right,” she said, starting the engine. “Let’s go home.”

  “I don’t have a home,” he muttered.

  She glanced at him as she shifted the car into drive. “Of course you do. Your home is with me and Matty, for as long as you want.”

  He didn’t say anything as they left the cemetery and pulled out onto the main road. Reaching out her hand, she put it on top of his and squeezed. “Remember you told me that through the worst times in your life, somehow you make it through? That it all turns out? I don’t know how, Charlie, but this will all work out. I know it.”

  When he didn’t respond she figured the word gods hadn’t heard her prayer.

  Dinner that evening was solemn. Not even informing him of Laura’s plans for confronting Mitch and Kevin could perk him up. She didn’t know what to do. She cleared the table and did the dishes while he sat on the front porch looking out at the river. She took care of Matty, playing with him in the sun room until he was hungry and, after feeding him and changing him, she put her son to bed.

  And still, Charlie was out on the porch. It was dark and she didn’t know if she should turn on a light. Figuring he wanted to be left alone, Suzanne walked into her bedroom. She now had a queen-sized bed, smaller, and yet it was okay. She didn’t feel quite so alone in it.

  A single woman.

  Those words kept repeating in her head. She was free now. Maybe it would take time to feel it. A part of her would always be connected to Kevin through their son. And another part of her resented that fact. Somehow, she would raise Matty to respect his father. She wouldn’t be one of those mothers that bad-mouthed the father, even though she could say some damaging things. Thankful the time when Matty would question her was far in the future, she unbuttoned her skirt and allowed it to fall to the carpet. She had a few years to instill in her son the virtues that she thought were important. Besides, it didn’t appear that Kevin would want much contact with Matty. She was grateful in one way, but knew that could change with the years.

  She had never thought she would be a single woman again, or a single mother. Picking up her skirt, she thought she might as well look at it like an adventure from here on out. She had no idea what her future was going to bring. By tomorrow Kevin will have transferred into her account millions of dollars. She shook her head at the ridiculous amount as she walked into the bathroom. Still, she had no idea what the rest of her life would bring. She guessed she was drifting along right now, waiting for the last pieces of the puzzle to fall into place. In a few days she would get more of the picture when they confronted Mitch. But she didn’t want to think about Mitch now. She didn’t want to think about any of it. She wanted to get clean, crawl into bed, and sleep.

  The bathroom was much smaller than the one at the farm, but it did hold a large tub. How she would love to soak in hot water, allowing all the tension to leave her body. But in truth, she admitted she didn’t have the energy to wash it afterward and so she headed for the stall shower. Within minutes she was clean and she wrapped the long bath sheet around her before walking back into the bedroom.

  She stopped short when she saw Charlie sitting on the edge of her bed.

  “Hi,” she breathed, startled and wondering if she should get her nightgown and bring it back into the bathroom to change. “Are you feeling any better?”

  He raised his face and she was shocked by his expression of sorrow. “I tried to stay away, tried not to burden you with this, but Suz… I feel like I’m breaking apart.”

  She hurried across the room, taking him into her arms, and allowing him to bury his face against her chest. “Oh, Charlie, it’s all right. Let it out. Stop trying to fight the process. You’re grieving, sweetie, for everything you’ve lost.” Stroking his hair, she whispered, “It’s okay to cry.”

  “This is my feminine side?” he muttered against the thick towel. “I don’t want to feel like this.”

  Smiling, she kissed the top of his head. “And I’m telling you, you will feel like this until you let it out of your body. Think of it, Charlie, you have tear ducts for a reason. To cry. If you don’t use them, you’ll take this energy and bottle it up and it will come out another way. Get it out now. Don’t make yourself sick. Let go, my love.”

  She felt the tension in his body.

  “I can’t.”

  “You can. Here, wait a minute.” Pulling away slightly, she tightened the bath sheet and said, “Come with me,” as she crawled on top of the bed. She put the pillows behind her back and spread her legs, glad that the large towel covered them. Patting the space in between, she said, “C’mere, Charlie.”

  He merely stared at her.

  “Trust me,” she whispered. “I won’t bite you.”

  In spite of the turmoil raging inside of him, he smiled. “Suzanne…”

  “I said trust me, Charlie,” she repeated, taking another pillow and placing it against her chest. “Lie on your back and put your head here.”

  He hesitated.

  “Don’t
you trust me, Charlie?”

  “I don’t know if I trust myself,” he answered, shifting his body so that his head was on the pillow.

  “Now,” she said, “let go.”

  “What?”

  She ran her fingers through his hair and then looked at the lamp on her night table. “Wait, let me turn this off.” When she was resettled, she sighed deeply and said, “Okay, let’s try it again. Let go.”

  “Let go of what?” he demanded, holding out his hands.

  Smiling, she said, “Let go of the tension in your muscles. And don’t tell me you aren’t tense. I can feel it. Now, just relax.”

  “I am relaxed.”

  “You are not. I told you I can feel your tension.” And she could as his shoulders and hips were against her legs. “Don’t talk or interrupt me. Just let go.”

  He took a deep breath and exhaled into the darkened room.

  “That’s good. Deep breaths. Inhale.” She waited a few seconds. “Exhale.”

  She breathed with him four more times and then began to speak slowly, soothingly. “Now, I want you to think of the muscles in your toes. Really think of them. Feel them. Feel them relax, like ropes becoming untwisted, free from any tension. Feel the soothing energy traveling to the arches of your feet, relaxing, unwinding, up over your heels… your ankles… each muscle relaxing, becoming heavier, one after the other. Just letting go. Feel it slowly traveling up your legs, around your calves, your knees, up your thighs, across your torso, relaxing the large muscles around your stomach, your chest… one after the other… just breathing in relaxation and breathing out all tension.”

  She paused, allowing him to feel it and smiling when she experienced the heaviness of his hips against her legs. He was doing it. Years ago, she’d gone to a hypnotherapist for stress reduction and had been surprised by how well it had worked. Not sure what else to do for him, she continued.

 

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