I stared at Helen, wanting to accept her advice while simultaneously not willing to budge.
“It would be a terrible world if we couldn’t forgive the ones we love when they’re careless,” she said.
Dad nodded his agreement.
“Stay the night. Get some sleep.” Helen rose as if everything were settled.
“There’s more to… it.”
Helen retook her seat.
I looked at her and then Dad. “There’s more to the Meg situation.” I sniffed, glancing upward. “I never wanted people to find out, but we don’t always get what we want.” I made eye contact with Helen. “I’ve been feeling so guilty for not telling you since Allen has latched onto her and vice versa.”
It wasn’t easy, but I told them everything about Meg.
I arrived home before anyone was up.
When I entered the nursery, Freddie, wide-eyed, quietly writhed, grabbing his feet with both hands.
“Good morning, little man. Did you have sweet dreams?”
He gave me a quizzical grimace.
“How about you, Ollie Dollie?”
She was unusually quiet, giving me pause.
Had the twins overheard the argument? Sarah had texted that they were sleeping peacefully when I inquired last night after my heart-to-heart.
“Morning.” Sarah stood in the doorway, her voice gravelly from lack of sleep.
“Hey,” I said. “You okay?”
“Am I?”
I had to smile. “I think so.”
She studied me for several seconds. “I’m glad you’re home.”
“Me, too. Shall we start a new day in the Petrie-Cavanaugh home?”
That was met with a round of giggles from the twinks.
“I love that sound,” I said, keeping my eyes on Sarah. “I’m sorry about last night.”
She let out a puff of air. “I’m pretty sure I was in the wrong.”
I cupped my ear. “Did you hear that, Twinks? Mommy said she was wrong. Go ahead; repeat it.” I gestured to Sarah.
She shook her head, but her laughter showed her relief. “Other mommy shouldn’t be so cocky.” She lifted Ollie into her arms.
“I’m on a roll these days.” I hoisted Freddie up. “Let’s get you changed and ready for breakfast.”
“Helen texted me this morning telling me I should do this.” She wrapped me and Freddie in a tight hug.
“I told them,” I said into her ear.
Sarah pulled away, her arms still on my shoulders. “About the fight?”
“Yes. And the ugly truth about Meg. Allen is the next stop on my confessions tour. If I’d come clean earlier, all of this could have been avoided. I’m so… ashamed. About everything.”
Sarah held me with the twins in the middle.
I sat at the table, watching Sarah feed the twins.
She eyed me. “What?”
“Do you really think Lisa will divorce Ethan?”
“Time will tell.”
“I can’t imagine that. Not being with all of you each day. Last night, after I’d been driving for an hour, I thought to myself, ‘What are you doing, Lizzie?’ And waking alone in a strange bed—I hated it.”
“Why didn’t you turn around last night?”
“Stupid pride.” I added, “And, I was still angry.”
“I read your novel.” Her voice held no emotion.
“Writing it is just something I do to help me relax.” I shifted in my seat, staring at my feet, remembering my dad’s slippers. “I don’t intend for it to go anywhere.”
Sarah set the spoon down. “It’s good, Lizzie. Surprisingly good.”
“Truly?” I perked up. “You aren’t just saying that?”
She smiled. “You might have a shot at making the New York Times bestsellers list for non-fiction and fiction.”
I waved for her to stop. “Now you’re teasing me.”
“Remember this day, Twinks. I was the first to predict Mommy’s book will shoot up the charts. All she needs to do is finish it.”
“Ah, famous last words. Finish it.”
“F-finish,” Freddie said. “Fff-finish.” He kept saying it.
Sarah and I looked at each other and then at Fred.
Sarah smiled victoriously. “If that’s not a sign, I don’t know what is.” She turned to our son. “You believe in Mommy?”
He reached for Sarah’s cheeks, pinching them.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Did you pick up the turkey?” Sarah tucked a pen behind her ear.
“It’s in the fridge in the basement.” I stuffed student essays into my briefcase. While the students were off for the week, I had grading, two final lectures to prep, edits to make to a journal article, and emails to answer. Thanksgiving couldn’t have come at a more inconvenient time, although I did have the week off, so to speak, because of the national holiday. “I won’t be on campus too long.” I hoped, at least.
“Can you pick up some stuff from the store on your way home?” She shoved a list into my hand.
I scanned it. “What’s a sugar pumpkin, and why does it have to be exactly three pounds?”
She took the list back. “On second thought, I’ll order everything online. Can you pick it up?”
“Of course, Martha.” I kissed her cheek. “Bye, Twinks!” I waved, but they were too busy painting paper plate turkeys Bailey had prepped for them.
“Don’t forget the store,” Sarah warned. “Or it’s off with your head.”
I laughed.
Sarah’s glare zapped my laughter.
“Tough crowd.” I slipped through the door, suddenly relieved to be heading to the office with a to-do list a mile long the day before Thanksgiving.
Around three, there was a knock on the office door.
“Come in,” I said, not looking up, expecting a fellow professor.
“I’ve always admired your dedication.”
I glanced up from the essay I was grading, red pen clenched between my teeth. “Hey, there. Wasn’t expecting you,” I mumbled with the pen in my mouth.
Meg sat down. “I had a feeling I’d find you here. You haven’t been answering my texts.”
I yanked the pen out of my mouth, afraid I’d bite through it, staining my lips and face. “What’s up?”
Meg took one of the essays off the completed stack and flipped it to the back. “C minus.” She whistled. “Are you in a bad mood?”
“I should have given him a D minus.” I flicked my hands up. “I’m feeling generous. Holiday spirit, I guess.”
She nodded, tossing it back onto the pile.
I lined it up exactly with the others. “Something tells me you didn’t stop by to discuss my grading style.”
Meg crossed one leg over her other, fiddling with the shoestring on her snow boot. “You ready for Thanksgiving?”
I leaned back into the desk chair, my arms overhead, and straightened out my legs. “Is anyone ever really ready?”
“I was surprised when Allen texted it wouldn’t be convenient for me to come.” She arched a questioning brow.
I sucked my lips into my mouth.
“Was that your doing?”
I hadn’t talked to him yet, but Helen had been adamant Meg wasn’t allowed and she thought it important for Allen to send the text so Meg would hear loud and clear to stay away.
“Do you really have to ask?” I leveled my eyes on hers, unable to determine what thoughts went on under her stony expression. “Setting aside all the shit you put me through when we were together, followed by the months of blackmail, you nearly wrecked my chances with Sarah after your performance in the hotel. Did you really think you could swoop back into town, say sorry, and we could pick up where we left off?”
“And this has to interfere with my friendship with Allen?” She innocently batted her eyelashes.
I shook my head, whistling. “You have cojones. I’ll give you that. I know you, and I remember what it was like to be around you, when you made m
e feel like I was your entire world. You can be intoxicating. You need people to adore you, and Allen is sweet. Vulnerable, even.”
“Intoxicating. Interesting word choice and”—she looked to the ceiling—“intentional. Never thought you’d throw my addiction in my face.”
There wasn’t a need to confirm or to get into a battle.
Meg met my eyes. “I like Allen. His excitement about history is infectious. He’s helped me fall in love with it again. For that, I’m truly thankful.”
I suppressed a groan. “He’s not the only person on the planet who has passion.”
“You don’t get it. How alone I feel. Holidays are killer for people like me.” She avoided my eyes. “I… had a minor slipup.” There was overwhelming sadness in her voice, which came across as real.
“When?”
“After being disinvited from Thanksgiving. Not that I blame Allen or you.” She was halfway convincing. “I worked through it with my sponsor.”
“I don’t know how this works, what constitutes a minor slipup, or if it’ll lead to…” I shrugged helplessly, unsure how much I believed and peeved she was playing the victim.
“Me neither. But I do know I can’t afford to majorly fuck up, Lizzie. I won’t come back from it if I do. I feel it in my bones.” Actual tears spilled from her eyes. “I need help. I’m terrified.”
“Shall I call your sponsor? Would rehab help?”
“I’m tired of rehab!” Her anger dissipated quickly. She interlaced her fingers, moving them about as if trying to break all the bones. “I thought you’d help me.”
“You’re putting me in a terrible position. Part of me believes you. The other… Jesus, how do you expect me to rush in and help you after everything? Because you said you were sorry?”
She stared at me for several tense moments. Then, she started to rise.
I gestured for her to sit back down. “No, please, hear what I have to say. This may not be the best timing, but I’ve been working up the nerve to say it since you came back.”
Meg slumped into the seat, pulling one knee to her chest.
“When we were together, after one of your benders that ended with you saying or doing terrible things, you’d brush it off by apologizing, followed by you being on your best behavior until the next time. Each time I believed you… or wanted to. And, each time you let me down.” I looked her in the eyes. “Now, you’re back and even if you aren’t aware of it, you’re acting the same way. You’ve apologized and been on semi-decent behavior. You’ve even offered to help me with my research, which is another thing you used to do back then.” I fiddled with the red pen. “I want the best for you. I always have. But you can’t expect me to blindly believe you because you say I should. You also can’t expect me to bend over backward to be your rock. I have a wife, children, and… a grocery order I need to pick up for Thanksgiving.” Probably shouldn’t have said the last part, like I was rubbing in the fact she was disinvited. I steadied my thoughts with a deep breath. What would Sarah do? Although, when it came to Meg, Sarah wasn’t the best source of advice. Thank God, Sarah never had a come to Jesus chat with Meg, or my wife may be behind bars for the holiday. I made my decision. “Having said that, right now, I’ll do what I can to help.” I typed nearest AA meetings into my phone. “There’s an AA meeting starting in twenty minutes right off campus. I’ll drive you over.”
I arrived home a little after six. I’d texted Sarah, giving her enough details to clue her in to the Meg dilemma so she wouldn’t rip my head off for not being able to pick up the grocery order.
Maddie, Bailey, and Jorie were at the kitchen table, decorating sugar cookies.
“Jorie, how nice of you to help out,” I said. “I see Max and Casey are here as well. It’s a full house.”
The kids were watching It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown.
The phone rang, and Sarah answered it before the second ring.
Rose and Troy traipsed in, their hands full with baking dishes.
Sarah, already off the phone, laughed, taking the pan from Troy’s hands. “It’s not usually this crazy here. Can I get you anything before I put you to work?”
“I recommend the hot chocolate with cinnamon.” Maddie motioned to her empty cup. “I’ll have another.”
“That’s my cue, isn’t it?” I shed my jacket and pushed my sweater sleeves up. “How many hot chocolates?”
Everyone’s hand went in the air, including Casey’s.
“I’ll help you,” Sarah said.
“Where’s Ethan?” I asked Sarah when we were out of earshot.
“With Lisa having a chat. Casey is staying the night.” Sarah inched closer. “Are you okay?”
I rattled the box of Red Hots. “Do we have more?”
Sarah didn’t push me. She ransacked through the bags that hadn’t been unpacked yet. “Here.” She handed over a new box. “I’ll collect the mugs.”
She returned, setting up an assembly line.
“Do you know whose is whose?” I started to pour hot milk into the mugs.
“Their names are on them.”
Sure enough, each of the cheap mugs had permanent marker on it. “Are those boobs on Maddie’s?”
“Sometimes, it’s best not to ask questions.” Sarah shrugged. “I think that’s the motto for the next twenty-four hours.”
That was Sarah’s way of telling me she would go with the flow.
“What’s taking so long?” Maddie shouted. “The working conditions in this household are inhumane!”
Allen arrived, brushing snow off the hood of his CU sweatshirt.
“Hot chocolate?” Sarah asked.
“Please.” He blew into his hands.
“Tell you what. Why don’t you take mine into the library?” I gave him my mug. “I’ll join you in a second to have a chat about Meg.”
Around midnight, Sarah and I finally retired to the bedroom.
“What a day.” Sarah fell onto the bed, tossing an arm over her face.
“Why did you think it was a good idea to invite everyone over for Thanksgiving?” I yawned.
“Don’t start with me.”
I climbed onto the bed next to her. “Thanks.”
She peeked under her arm. “For?”
“Not pushing me earlier.”
Sarah propped herself on bent elbows. “Do you trust her?”
I placed my hand on Sarah’s stomach. “No. But, I’d hate myself if I turned my back when she really needed me. Besides, taking her to an AA meeting…” I closed my eyes. Meg had asked me to attend with her and the stories I heard tore at my insides, but I’d never share them with anyone. “This way I won’t feel like the world’s worst ex-girlfriend.”
“Because she was the best when you dated?”
“I know what you’re saying, and I get your frustration. I need you to believe me when I say I don’t trust Meg. I told her that. But, just because she wasn’t nice to me, doesn’t mean I have to treat her the same way.”
“Are you positive she won’t show up tomorrow?”
“I made it clear she wasn’t wanted. She was invited to a potluck tomorrow, and I think she’ll go. The people were really supportive. It’s good to know she has groups like that she can go to… when she needs it.” I swallowed. “And, if she does show up, I’ll refuse entry.”
“I’m proud of you.” Sarah pulled me into her arms. “Let’s get some rest. I have a feeling tomorrow won’t be easy. Oh, Demi is staying with us for the weekend.”
“Let me get this straight. Casey and Demi are our new wards?”
“Don’t forget Jorie and Max.” Sarah yawned. “God help us.”
Sarah, at the head of the table, tapped her wineglass with her knife. When everyone quieted down, after Maddie let rip a deafening whistle, followed by a threat for everyone to be quiet, Sarah rose.
“I wanted to thank all of you for coming to Thanksgiving. It’s days like this that remind us how lucky we are to have so many in our lives to help us
celebrate not only holidays and birthdays but every day. I’d like to go around the table and have each one of you say what you’re thankful for. Helen, you’re on my right, so you get to start us off.”
Helen beamed at Sarah. “I’m truly thankful for all of you allowing me and my boys into the family fold. We haven’t been an official family for that long, but the way all of you act makes it seem like we always have been. For better or worse.” She laughed.
Dad said, “Ditto and thanks for not making me carve the turkey or grill steaks.”
“No need for a trip to the ER.” Helen patted his cheek.
Gabe laughed. “Can’t let you massacre another steak, and I love carving a turkey.” He looked to Maddie. “I’m thankful for this one.” He raised Maddie’s hand to his lips and kissed her fingertips softly.
I noticed Peter suppress a shudder.
Maddie, not usually at a loss for words, said, “Ditto.”
Rose glanced at Sarah and then Troy. “I’m thankful to have the love and support of my daughters.” Her eyes landed on me.
I smiled, willing away the wetness in the corner of my eyes. The one bonus to the Troy issue was Rose finally forgiving me.
Tie was next, and I gripped the edge of the table.
She cleared her throat. “Well, where do I begin?” Tie glanced at her husband, who stared defiantly at her. “I’m thankful to be able to spend the day with Peter, who works… so many hours… and golfs even more.”
Before she could go into attack mode, I said, “Jorie?”
Tie shot me a withering look, and I grinned broadly.
“I’m thankful to be included in the Petrie festivities and for you allowing Max to hang with the kids.” Jorie bobbed her head toward the kids’ table tucked into the corner, with Casey as the de facto adult.
Ethan and Lisa laughed when Casey instructed Freddie to eat some turkey or he wouldn’t get any pie, which Fred ignored.
A Conflicted Woman Page 24