by Piper Denna
Ali,
Anemones come in all colors, representing expectation.
Forsythia branches offer a golden sprinkle of anticipation.
Pine is for hope (and a reminder of yesterday’s destination!).
God, how sweet.
The last bouquet beckoned. A sprinkle of fragile pink, fragrant blooms accented the otherwise blue arrangement. This bouquet was wrapped in plastic, no doubt so that I could arrange them myself, like I had when Cam watched before. I read the card.
Ali,
Apple blossoms add a dose of temptation, so that you’ll Forget-Me-Not.
Please, don’t.
Love,
Camden
Crying seemed like the best option. I set myself up with tissues and a tall glass of water, settled in my seat at the window, with the flowers on the coffee table nearby and the cards in my lap. But the tears didn’t come. Cam wasn’t a patient man, I reminded myself. He’d told me so. He wouldn’t be waiting for me. He’d be on the hunt, prowling bars and picking up hot chicks at the gym. The women would be on him like ants on a picnic, and his hope and anticipation would soon leave that aching heart. I told myself these things but, with the scent of his flowers around me, my heart would not listen.
*
Bill said not a word about his den being full of flowers he could only assume were from another man. His jaw clenched tighter the next morning, when the boys and I loaded up the van and I dragged the vases of blooms out to the front passenger seat. Meeting his eyes, I challenged him to take a stand and say something, but he didn’t. Part of me wondered if I was pushing him too far, egging him toward taking Brianna back to bed.
Seeing him experience just a fraction of the discomfort he’d caused me was worth the risk.
*
Will and Andy amused themselves watching DVD’s, as they usually did, leaving me to my thoughts while I drove. They’d gone inside a convenience store in Flagstaff when my cell rang.
“Hi,” I said.
“Hi. Where are you?”
“Flagstaff, getting gas.”
“I love you.”
I didn’t reply.
“Why don’t you answer me, Al? Do you hate me?”
“I did at first. But not now.”
“This thing with the bike guy, and the flowers…”
“It’s none of your business.”
“Goddammit, Alison! How can it not be my business? What is this, an open marriage now? That’s not what I want.”
“You opened the door, Bill, not me.” My pump shut off and I was impatient to get back on the road.
“Do you still love me?”
“I don’t know. The boys are back. Bye.” They weren’t back yet, but it was a good exit strategy. And I wasn’t ready to answer his question yet.
Taking my seat in the van, I saw I had a text message from Cam. It said:
DRIVE SAFE. CALL ME WHEN U GET THERE? CJ
His sweet concern made me smile. I’d called him the day before to thank him for the flowers, but he’d been in a service call, so we hadn’t really talked.
While waiting on Will and Andy to finish goofing around in the store I dashed off a quick text.
HEY. TOOK POSIES ALONG. THEY R GREAT, LIKE U.
WILL CALL
I had no business sending him such a message. Wasn’t that leading him on?
The boys came back and we hit the road.
“Hey Mom?” Andy asked when he’d grown tired of movies.
“Yeah, Andy?”
“How come we left before Dad went on tour this year?”
“Um, well, I need to start working, and I know you guys are anxious to go see your cousins.”
“Don’t you think Dad will be lonely?”
“It’s only a week ‘til he goes on t…”
Will interrupted me to tell his brother, “He’s never home anyway, stupid! He has, like, a million lessons to give right now. He’ll barely know we’re gone.” The pain in Will’s voice was obvious. He understood his dad was busy, but it didn’t make his absence at home hurt less.
“He’s never HOME because he’s mad at Mom, moron. You don’t know anything,” Andy yelled, then slugged his arm.
“Oww!” Will yelped, then slugged Andy back.
I watched in the mirror, while yelling over the din, “Hey! No hitting! Why would you think he’s mad at me, honey?”
“You told him you were gonna get a boyfriend! How do you think that made him feel?”
“What? When?”
“When you were drunk and mad at him! I could hear you in your office fighting.”
“We were fighting?” Jesus. Once in five years I get drunk, and I have to overdo it.
“Of course she wants a boyfriend,” Will told Andy. “Dad’s never home. All that matters to him is his job. She’s lonely, dummy. Would you ignore your girlfriend like that?”
“Who has a girlfriend?” I demanded. “Is it Jennifer?”
“Mom, knock it off,” Andy complained. “First you threaten to get a boyfriend, and now you leave Dad all alone. Pretty soon you’ll be getting divorced like Jeff’s mom and dad, and it’ll be all your fault!”
I felt like shit. Somehow Andy twisted this all around ‘til I was to blame. What else had I told Bill that night? Had Andy heard me talking on the phone with Cam? Oh, God.
“Now look what you did, retard!” Will said. “You made Mom cry. You’re such a little kid. You don’t know anything about grown-ups! They have to see each other to stay in love. Dad only sees his golf clubs, so maybe he can kiss his putter goodnight while we’re gone.” He leaned forward and put his hand on my shoulder. “It’s okay, Mom. I understand.”
I sincerely doubted that.
*
It was six p.m. when we hit Rifle, the little town where my mom and all my childhood acquaintances lived. The boys had no intention of going with me to the “cabin” as they called it. I left them, and enough cash to hit the ancient movie theater with their cousins, at my sister Kerri’s.
Kerri was seven years older than me, but our kids were around the same age. She’d gone to college and started a career before having kids, but had still ended up back in our hometown. She kept me up to date with local goings-on by phone and e-mail.
While our lives were in few ways similar, we shared a certain rapport, and she could usually read me like a book. It was work getting out of her clutches without explaining exactly what was troubling me. I knew, even though I did flee under the guise of being travel-weary and having a headache, that she’d pester the boys until she had an idea of what was up. It was the coward’s way out, but I gladly chose it and took sanctuary in my small farmhouse.
*
Rusty pipes necessitated running water through the lines. The circuit breaker to the well pump was tripped, but I’d expected that and reset it first thing. Pilot lights needed to be lit, so there would be no hot water for hours to come. The water heater was a relic—I think it had last been replaced when I was in first grade or so. When I had finally settled myself in with a few bottles of water I’d brought along in the van, the fast-food salad I’d picked up on the way tucked away in the slowly chilling fridge, I called Bill.
“Hey, we made it,” I announced, when he answered.
“Um, you guys play through. I’ll catch you in a minute. Make sure to stop before you swing, yeah, like that,” I heard him call to someone. “Hi hon. So you made it okay?”
“Yeah. I have a headache, so I’m gonna go to bed now,” I lied, hoping for a speedy exit.
“Al. We need to talk.”
“So, talk. Tell me what I said to you the night I was drunk.”
“Why?”
“Well, Andy told me today that if we get a divorce, it’s my fault. I guess he heard us fighting. He thinks you’ve been avoiding home because I want a boyfriend, and Will thinks I want a boyfriend because you’re never home. He’s pretty angry. Will.”
“We didn’t fight that night, Al. I was mad because you
humiliated me at the club, and you told me you could get a boyfriend, instead, if I wanted. I took the boys out to dinner right after that, because you were crying.”
How chivalrous—woman crying equals need to grab boys and leave premises.
“You need to do something about Will, Bill. I can’t make excuses for you forever, and he’s old enough to tell that’s what I’m doing. It hurts him that he’s not top priority.”
“What should I do?”
“I don’t know. Fly him out for part of your tour or something. Spend some time showing him off, let the cameras pan to him while you’re lining up your shot. Hang out at the beach and talk about boobs.”
Bill sounded less than enthusiastic. “I’m not sure if a tour is really the place for a kid his age…”
“Whatever. It was just a suggestion. You know what? I can’t keep solving the problems you get into. I’ve almost made myself crazy trying to figure out how to papier-mâché our marriage back together ‘til the boys are grown, and I just can’t get all the pieces, Bill. If I could, I’d ask for counseling. But something is missing.”
“You need to forgive and forget, let go of the pain.”
“Yeah, we’ll see. You better go. You have lessons waiting, right?”
“I love you, Alison.”
“Bye, Bill.”
I felt like drinking—it was the quickest way to numb the rotten feelings burbling to the surface. In the back of the cupboard was an old, unopened bottle of wine. It was cool to the touch, so I uncorked it and poured a glass. It was red, and tasted warm going down. Some was good, so a lot would be better. I drained the glass and considered pulling out my salad, but opted, instead, for another glass of wine and salving my wounds with a call to Cam.
“Hi,” he answered, breathless.
“Hi. Did you run for the phone?”
“Um. No. I’m actually on a bike ride.”
“Oh. With Emily?” I pictured her, cute as a button, perched on the back of the tandem.
“Um, no. I went out with friends on our mountain bikes, and kind of, um, hit it off with someone.” I could hear him smiling, the wind was blowing into the phone. A female called to CJ, was he coming?
“Oh.” A date. He was on a date already. I strove to keep the disappointment from my voice when I continued, “Okay. Just wanted to let you know we made it safe and sound. That’s all. Bye.”
“Ali!”
“Hmm?”
“I’ll call you later.”
“If you want,” I replied, as if tired but willing to tolerate him.
Well, that was just a fine how-do-you-do, wasn’t it? One day after his little poems and flowers, and he’d already replaced me. Such was life. I had no right to keep him tethered when I wasn’t free myself.
The wine felt good, in contrast to my head and my stomach. Oh well. Maybe she wouldn’t last and he’d be available again when the kids went back to school. Maybe by then I’d have things with Bill straightened out, or finalized, or solved. Something. Maybe I’d finish that last bit of wine.
The view from the back deck was pristine at night. No sign of human life. It was me and the stars. I lay on the wood, scootching sideways until I managed to get the gap between the planks at a more bearable spot between my shoulder blades. Trying to focus on the stars enough to discern constellations was futile. With a bottle of red wine under my belt, the entire sky looked like the Milky Way to me.
My cell phone rang. I’d taken it out with me, intending to sleep in the hammock but tripping over my own feet and deciding it was less dangerous to stay where I was.
“H’lo?”
“Ali? Are you okay?” It was Cam.
“What, me? Uh-huh!”
“Are you drunk again?”
I swallowed a burp. “Mm. No.” I giggled a little, then asked, “Are you?”
“Yes you are. Where are you?”
“I’m layin’ on my back.” Another burp threatened, but passed. “Lookin’ at the stars, man. It’s like a meteor shower!” Feeling serious, I asked, “Tell me about her. The chick who calls you CJ.”
“Everybody calls me CJ but you and my parents.”
“Okay. You know who I mean. Ms. BMX.”
“I’m not telling you about her. And you shouldn’t be drinking alone.”
“Yeah. It’s Saturday night. I should go down to the bar. Look up some old friends.”
“Don’t you DARE drive like that, Ali!”
“Yeah, you’re right. But walkin’ would take a long time. And my bike’s got a flat. You’ll have to keep me company. I sure miss you.”
“Good.”
“Not like you’re thinkin’, Cam dear. I’m hor-ny. I’m touching myself thinking of you.”
“Ali, quit.”
“You can’t stop me. I want you--ooh, it’s very wet down there. I hope the mosquitoes don’t bite while I’m naked out here.”
“Ali.”
“Are you hard, Cam?”
A pause, then a reluctant, “Yes.”
“If I was with you, I’d have you in my mouth. I love your taste, you know that? You’re always sweet, sweet, everywhere. Oh, hold on.” My hand moved faster and my breath filled me ‘til the release came and I let the air out with a big sigh. “God. I need you, Cam. Imagine sliding your finger in me. Touching me where it feels so good it hurts. I’m arching against you. You’re so hard it hurts, huh?”
“Yeah.” I could hear rhythmic rustling on his end.
“Come on, Cam. Put it in me. You’re so big and perfect. I want it, Cam. I want you like I’ve never wanted anything. You want me, I know you do. Just once, just put it in and we’ll come together. Ohh, you’re in me. It’s so hot down there, God. I’m tight from needing you.”
I heard him moan and come, and felt so empty without him, it made me cry. “Cam. I miss you. I’m gonna go now. Don’t call me anymore, Okay? This sucks wayyy too much. God, it sucks!”
I hung up and turned to my side to bawl, certain I’d be throwing up soon.
All Fore Revenge
Chapter 6
The leaky spray nozzle doused the cotton shorts and t-shirt I’d just struggled into, and splattered the sunglasses I feared I’d need all day. I’d spend this Sabbath repenting for my stupidity in consuming an entire bottle of red wine by myself. In spite of half the water pressure leaking between my fingers, I managed to rinse the evidence of my folly from the decking just minutes before Kerri’s red Durango tore up the driveway in a cloud of dust. I could hear Guns-n-Roses blasting through the open windows, which could only mean one thing—she’d brought Shurre.
All the ecstatic squeals with our hugs made me cringe behind my shades, but I was honestly pleased to see my lifelong best friend. Shurre had lived through two divorces and was working on a new double-blended family. There was virtually no sin I could commit in this lifetime that Shurre hadn’t previously committed, so there’d be no judgment on this holy, if loud and overly bright, day.
“Look at Ms. Tan, Kerri,” Shurre teased. “Must be nice to eat bon-bons and lounge by the pool every day.”
“I keep telling you, the bon-bons melt by the pool, Shurre. I have to eat them during cocktail hour, while the maid makes dinner. And you could be there eating them with me. I still keep a spare room for the next time you’re hiding from the law.”
“Oh, shut up. It was just a bench warrant for swiping that peckerhead’s car and leaving him on Independence Pass, and you know it. Now, what are you gonna feed us?”
“Ugh,” I answered. “I didn’t shop before I came up last night, and then I… didn’t feel like going back to town.”
“No shit! You show up, dump your kids on Kerri, and come hide out like a hermit? I don’t think so, girlfriend!” She grinned, and I knew another taunt was coming. “Don’t you miss your kids while they’re away at boarding school all the time?”
“I don’t know, Shurre. Where are your kids right now? With husband number five, or six?”
Kerri joined our laughin
g, while she grabbed a cheesecake from her back seat. “If you two are done with the verbal abuse, we have serious eating to do.”
I wasn’t entirely sure eating was a good plan, but who was I to pass up cheesecake?
When we were settled at the table, Kerri insisted I remove my glasses. It did facilitate seeing what I was eating, but only until she swiped the fork from my hand and asked, “Jesus Christ, did you smoke pot up here last night, or what?”
“I wish! I’d feel a lot better than I do right now.”
“Li’l sis, what’s up? Andy’s talking about you finding a boyfriend, and—what’s with all these flowers?” Her gaze swept the kitchen counters. “And Will says Bill never comes home anymore. What the fuck?”
“Geez, Kerri. You high school teachers have such potty mouths now.” I jerked my fork back and landed a good mouthful before I started talking past it. “I found out Bill’s been banging his PA.”
“Recently?” Kerri asked.
“Recently banging or recently found out? Oh, never mind,” I said, waving my empty fork to stop her reply. “Six weeks ago I found out, and he says he’s stopped. But I don’t know.”
Kerri’s fork stabbed her dessert with a vengeance. “What did you do?”
“The cable guy. Every day for a month.” My sister and friend stared at me, no doubt thinking it was a bad joke. “Really!”
“Oh, my hell,” Kerri muttered. “Holy shit. Was he hot?”
My satisfied chuckle could leave no doubt.
“Does Bill know?”
“Unfortunately, he never caught us. I got way drunk at a club luncheon two weeks ago and told him I knew. He does know I went out tandem bike riding with another guy, and that guy sent me these flowers Friday.”
“Wait, wait, wait.” Shurre held her head in confusion, then asked, “Why does a golf pro need a personal assistant anyway? Isn’t that what caddies are for?”
“Shurre! Jesus!” Kerri growled.