by Ally Hayes
He found out that Debbie left to spend the night at her friend Julie’s house—which was her intended cover from the start. Ann only laughed when she saw the unreadable remnants of the marker left on his face. Bill was out at his weekend landscaping job he’d taken on when the twins began community college. Matt knew he had to get a scholarship or there would be nothing left for him. Cutting lawns wouldn’t cover Division One tuitions.
After a long, hot shower, he was heading out to shoot hoops when his mom surprised him with the news that Jackie had called while he was scrubbing off obscenities.
It had been a whole year, but his fingers dialed the number with instant recall.
“Hi, Jackie, heard you called. This is a first.” He didn’t want to admit he had called and wimped out.
“I know. I was sad we didn’t exchange birthday greetings yesterday, so I thought it couldn’t hurt to call. It doesn’t always have to be on you.”
“I’m glad you called.”
“Me, too.”
“Jackie, I miss you,” he found himself blurting out.
“Oh, Matt, I miss you, too.” She broke into audible tears. Matt’s were silent but present and detectable. Both were in shock at their crying but not surprised by the feelings.
“Can I see you?” he finally asked.
“No. Not now. I don’t know.”
“Okay, well, you know where I am.” Matt wanted so badly to sound tough, but he couldn’t.
“I’m going away for the summer. I’ve been accepted into Yale’s ‘college experience’ program. I can’t pass it up.”
“No, you shouldn’t. That’s huge. I’m happy for you, really.”
“Thanks, I believe that. I want great things to happen for you, too, Matt, and they will. I know they will.”
“Okay, Jackie.”
“Well, okay, that was more than I was planning on saying. So you know.”
“Happy birthday to you, too, Jackie.”
Jackie sobbed. She had known last night was a mistake, but now she really wished she could turn back time and undo the “doing.”
Anyone else would have thought it was the perfect evening, the perfect opportunity—the clichéd night to remember. Well, she’d never forget it, that’s for sure. No matter how much she’d try for the rest of her life.
The limousine had parked in front of her house, and Peter emerged holding a half-dozen red roses. It was his senior prom, and he wanted to make an impression. Her birthday helped. Her parents shared a champagne toast to their now seventeen-year-old daughter and her Ivy League bound boyfriend.
Peter would be interning at Robert’s firm for the summer before heading off to Princeton in the fall. Jackie didn’t like to talk about it; she simply smiled and politely agreed how great it all was. Robert, however, could not have seemed happier with the situation. Inside, Jackie had been dreading any talk about a future that included Peter. It was getting too serious, and she was uncomfortable with how he blatantly tried to impress her father. It might have been working on Robert, but it was making her lose interest as time progressed. She tried to push it to the back of her mind and remember this night was supposed to be about her—well, Peter, too—but her birthday and a big night out. Jackie’s friends all envied her going to the prom with a senior—it was an honor—and so she put on a smile as he led her into the ballroom.
When the last song ended and they walked hand in hand off the dance floor, Peter reached into his tuxedo pocket and handed her a plastic rectangle.
“Happy birthday.”
She looked at the card and realized it was a hotel key.
“A key for my birthday?” she asked, knowing the implications.
“A room, actually. Five-eighteen, your birthdate.”
In the room, he immediately and effortlessly removed his jacket, bow tie, and cummerbund. He kicked off his shoes and invited her to sit on the edge of the bed with him. She sat down and released her feet from the pinching heels.
“I have to be home tonight, you know. I can’t stay the night,” Jackie confessed. Not actually confessing to the fact that she never asked permission to stay out all night or at Sydney’s for a cover. She had told him she would work on it, but a day earlier she realized she never got around to it, realizing furthermore that she must really want to have an excuse to go home that night.
“Don’t worry, it won’t take all night. I’ll have you home by one as promised.”
They began to kiss, and soon he was unzipping her gown. She excused herself to the bathroom, giving the explanation of “hook and eyes and elastics.” He seemed to understand. Her eyes welled up as she hung the dress and rolled down her stockings. In the hotel bathroom mirror now stood a gorgeous girl in her underwear about to do a very womanly thing, she thought.
I’m ready, she reassured herself. The inner struggle to convince herself began. They had been close before and almost gave in. I want to. He loves me, and I’ve told him that I love him. He respects me, he will still respect me. He’s a good guy, he’s not drunk. It’s okay. I’ll be okay.
But it always came back to the same hesitation—he wasn’t Matt. And she couldn’t stop herself from thinking about Matt that night, between their shared birthdate and the promise they’d made.
She almost backed out at the point of no return, but when your partner is an eighteen-year-old boy, no amount of manners and respect can interrupt the point of no return.
“Don’t cry, Jackie, please. You said I wasn’t hurting you. I didn’t, did I?”
“No, no, it’s just a lot to process right now. Just ignore me, I’m being silly. I’ll be fine.”
“I love you, Jackie.”
“I know, Peter.” Jackie realized she didn’t love Peter and would regret this night.
Now, having just hung up with Matt, remorse walked in and made itself a comfortable place to stay. She would have to put on a fake smile for the rest of the school year and count the days until she would disappear from Westhaven for the summer. Hopefully, Peter would get the message, and they could just drift apart without a big production. A lot could change, and events could be forgotten over the course of a summer. She knew that all too well.
Matt stared at the phone still clutched in his hand until one of his sisters, he couldn’t say which one, ripped it from him. He made a plan: he would practice hard all summer to earn a basketball scholarship, and he would get a job just in case. No girls. That wouldn’t be an issue with Debbie or any of her friends.
Chapter Ten
Bill, Patty and Ann, Robert
“I gotta quit drinking.”
“Famous last words, my friend.” The bartender had heard this confession before. Bill was neither the first, nor would he be the last, to slur these words across the worn wood of the old bar. He refilled Bill’s glass from the tap, knowing tonight would not be the start of his trip on the wagon.
“Well, I oughta at least cut down. That’s more realistic. Maybe spend a little less time here. Uh, no offense.” Bill swiveled in the fake leather stool he had come to think of as “his.” Lately, he held more claim to this particular spot than to his old corduroy recliner at home.
“Of course not. If I took offense to what any of you yahoos tell me, I would have ended it all years ago. Just make sure you’re here next Saturday, though. Big event.” The bartender hooked his thumb toward the vinyl sign hanging by the door as he continued to wipe out pint glasses with a rag.
“Video poker?” Bill snorted. “Are you kidding me? Don’t get me wrong, I love a good game of poker—stink at it—but in a video game? That’s for kids, and I should know. I got a bunch of them.” He took a swig of his beer.
“It’s different, new. Trust me.” The bartender smiled. Another famous phrase. He’d honed a few of his own over the years.
Bill shook his head at the time, but trust he did. He arrived on Saturday, apprehensive but curious. After a complimentary Jack and coke and several domestic pints later, he had found a new love. A new vice, a ne
w addiction. Exactly what he did not need.
***
It was bound to happen, Ann and Patty running into each other. During the summer that Matt and Jackie had admitted to Patty they had been dating, she began to wonder how honest her friend had been with her over the years. Had Ann known about the “other” times the kids had been together? Did Ann support it, and why would she hide it from Patty, she wondered. Even before the tumultuous breakup, Patty found excuses to pull away from Ann, yet felt guilty as Ann had always been good to her and admittedly good for her, but mainly because Ann had confided in her just prior to the awful night.
Patty returned a few phone calls but ignored just as many, not knowing if she was prepared to see her. She knew Ann needed her, and she was beginning to feel she needed her as well, which was why Patty found herself frequenting the spots where she might run into her old friend. It eventually worked. Ann had a weakness for rum raisin that could only be found at Bergson’s. Patty decided to start there by dropping in for to-go coffees every few days. Their caffeine and sugar cravings ultimately coincided one afternoon.
Both appeared surprised to see the other at the counter, but neither was.
“Change of plans. Please make our orders for here,” Patty informed the girl waiting on them who rolled her eyes upon news of the switch. She poured a fresh cup of coffee into a real mug and scooped the ice cream into a glass bowl then placed them at a two-person booth, the kind that looked chopped off and not quite right. It suited them just fine.
“So, how have you been?” Patty began.
“Fine, and you?” she answered quickly, then dropped her shoulders and façade. “This is silly. Why can’t we still be friends even when the kids aren’t getting along?”
Patty’s eyes moistened. “I know; it is senseless. I don’t know why I got so uncomfortable and nervous. I guess I thought we’d have to discuss them and then have an argument.”
“We don’t have to discuss what happened. You know we’ll never know the truth anyway—it lies somewhere between Matt and Jackie’s versions. It’s best we don’t talk about it,” Ann explained.
“How about we just don’t talk about them, period?”
“Well, we can discuss their existence and wellbeing, just not, you know,” Ann tried.
“Okay. So where do we start?”
“Right here, and again on Thursday.”
The first two coffee dates felt forced, but the ease improved with frequency. Ann could tell Patty was holding something back, and it was killing her not to pry. She had learned a few things about her friend over the years and knew one of them was that she couldn’t force Patty to discuss something unless she was ready. Ann, on the other hand, was never good at keeping things inside, and with her troubles with Bill escalating, she couldn’t help but share now that she had Patty back in her life.
Soon Patty was up to speed on Bill’s drinking and their struggle to make ends meet. Things were no better than the day Ann confided in Patty there was a problem. Bill continued to claim he was working late and leaving early, but Ann had her suspicions. She never knew if or when there would be money, and when there was, it was up to her to determine which bills were the most overdue to pay. All her kids were working in some capacity, which helped, and she was considering watching her neighbor’s kids a couple hours during the week as well.
The twice-weekly coffee dates continued for a couple of months, and soon the friendship was truly that and intact once again. With all Ann had to deal with, she soon forgot her worry over Patty not opening up and chalked it up to her conservative nature.
They continued to meet throughout the summer and into the fall when Matt and Jackie both began their senior years in high school. It was difficult not to discuss them, especially as applying to colleges was consuming most of their time and efforts during those months. While they occasionally slipped up, they managed to keep away from the subject. They became each other’s diversion from their home lives, until Patty was ready to share, or explode.
Ann was just about to leave the house to meet Patty at the coffee shop when the phone rang. She really didn’t want to get stuck talking, but she’d never been able pass up a ringing phone—it would bother her all morning wondering who it was.
“Hello?”
“I’m sorry for the last-minute call, but could we possibly meet here instead today? I’m kind of a wreck and really need to talk.” Patty sounded as distressed as her call seemed.
“Of course! I’ll be right over!” Ann exclaimed. She could hardly believe her good fortune—getting the dirt and finally seeing Patty’s house.
She knew she should be feeling badly for Patty as something terrible must have happened for her to sound so flustered, but part of her was simply excited. On the drive over, she tried to remind herself that Patty needed her as she approached the exclusive address.
Patty, however, didn’t realize the significance of the visit; it hadn’t dawned on her that she had never invited Ann over prior to that morning. After she hung up, she simply put out two mugs and started the coffeemaker. Had she grasped the fact, she would have not only wiped down the counters but would have been preparing all morning, if not baking the night before. The night before held other worries, ones larger than crumbs and dust.
It had been a Tuesday night, and Patty was expecting the usual routine for Robert’s racquetball night. She had made a frittata for Jackie and herself—a dish that Robert didn’t care for—and was setting the table for two. Jackie was up in her room studying, having just gotten home from a SADD meeting at town hall. She had come to enjoy these nights with her daughter and usually got more information on her social life than when Robert was around discussing test scores and class ranking. While taking the egg dish out of the oven the phone rang. Patty ignored it as Jackie would probably beat her to in anyway. There was no second ring.
“Jackie, dinner is ready! Can you take a break yet or should I put it back in to keep warm?” Patty yelled up the stairs.
“I’ll be right down.”
Once seated across from her daughter and relaxed, Patty asked who had called.
Jackie shrugged. “No one.”
“A hang up?”
“Not exactly. I kept saying hello because I could tell someone was there. I eventually hung up.”
“Oh, that’s strange,” Patty replied. She told herself not to overthink it.
Five minutes later, the phone rang again. Patty usually didn’t answer during mealtime, but after the previous call, her curiosity got the best of her.
“Hello?” Patty answered sweetly.
There was a presence on the other end but no reply. Patty tried her greeting again, and like her daughter, she saw no need to play the caller’s game and simply hung up. She returned to the table. She tried to remain unruffled, but she felt nervous.
Patty and Jackie talked about her friends and their social lives that fall. Sydney was turning eighteen the next weekend, and Jackie was looking forward to her party at a rock concert in Hartford. Patty wasn’t thrilled about it but kept quiet, having learned to pick her battles.
“Have you heard from Peter?”
“No, and I won’t again, which is fine. We decided it was best to go our separate ways. With him off at Princeton and all the work I have to do, it was pointless to try to stay together,” Jackie replied with the answer she had rehearsed. The truth was, she simply stopped returning his calls after his graduation and ignored the situation entirely. She knew he was doing well working for her father the past summer, and her time away at Yale took care of any awkwardness. She had not spoken to him since she’d been back.
“What about that friend you made over the summer?”
“Adam? We’ve talked, but he’s in Chicago. Neither of us needs that during our senior year. He’s more of a buddy, and he’ll probably end up at Northwestern next year anyway. Can we stop talking about guys now?”
“Of course.” Patty laughed and began to clear the dishes.
; “Let me help; that was a great dinner. Too bad we have to save it for when Dad’s not around.”
“Thank you, but I’ve got the dishes. Go do your homework. I know you got a late start because of the meeting.”
“You’re right, I’d better go. I have an AP history test tomorrow and still need to do some reading, too.” Jackie kissed her mom on the cheek and disappeared for the night.
Patty stacked the dishes in the dishwasher and put her gloves on to tackle the sticky skillet. The phone rang. She debated not answering since her gloves were on, but on the second ring she snapped them off.
“Hello?” she asked tentatively.
Nothing.
“Who’s there? Why do you keep calling?” she demanded.
“Is he there?” a deep but quiet voice asked.
“Is who here? I think you have the wrong number.” She hoped.
“Where is he, why isn’t he here?” The voice now sounded slurred, slow.
“I’m hanging up now,” Patty’s voice trembled.
“He needs me more than he needs you. He can leave you, but I won’t let him leave me.”
Patty slammed the phone on the wall cradle hard enough for the internal bell to chime. Her hands shook, and she fumbled for a chair to sit.
Now, after relaying the details to Ann, Patty only felt worse. Speaking of them out loud made it feel more real, less like a bad dream.
“When did Robert come home?”
“The usual, around ten-thirty claiming he was at racquetball and then out for a drink with a colleague.”
“Huh,” Ann began. “Well, we know he’s lying, that’s for sure.”
“And that she exists,” Patty added.
“Well, yes.”
Patty stood and began pacing. “What do I do?”
“That depends. If you confront him, you need to be prepared for one of two things: a) he denies it and you’re stuck with fighting or backing down, or b) he admits it and you have to decide the next course of action. Unless, of course, he asks for a separation first.”
“I can’t believe this,” Patty sobbed, “yet I can.”