All That's True

by Jackie Lee Miles

  “Want to stay for dinner?” I say.

  “I can’t,” Bridget says. “My dad’s taking us out to eat. Donna has something important she wants to share with us, or so she says.”

  “God! Maybe she’s going to tell your dad she’s seeing my father.”

  Bridget shrugs her shoulders. “She’s getting her real estate license. I think it’s about that. She’s all excited because she’s going to work for Harry Norman Realtors.”

  “What for?”

  “Don’t ask me,” Bridget says. “I have no idea.” She looks at the clock on the wall next to the breakfast table and heads for the door. “I gotta go. I told my Dad I’d be back by five.”

  ***

  I’m bouncing Joshua on my knee and he is having the best time. He already has his two bottom front teeth and one coming in on top. He leans against me and starts chewing on one of my buttons.

  “No no, Joshua,” I say and gently pull it out of his mouth. “You could choke on that, you little monkey.” I scoop him up in my arms and dance around the room with him.

  “Careful, Andréa,” my mother says. “He’s not a doll.”

  She’s sitting at the kitchen table and looking at a baby album Amy has put together. Jeffrey has a late class this evening. He’s working days now in my father’s law firm and going to school at night. My father is going to take him into the firm when he graduates from law school. But that’s ages from now. He hasn’t even gotten his undergraduate degree yet, but my father has it all planned out.

  It suits me fine. It means they’ll be staying in Atlanta and we’ll get to watch Joshua grow up. I wonder if it hurts my mother to look at him. He looks like the pictures we have of Alex when he was a baby. If it does hurt her, you wouldn’t know it. But then, maybe she’s in so much pain over my father leaving that she’s come to expect her life to be just one big pain after another. At least she’s not drinking. She’s going to her meetings again every day. Maybe that’s what’s holding her together, those meetings and the friends she’s made there.

  Chapter Fifty-nine

  It really surprises me that my mother is staying sober. If anything could make you want to knock yourself out it would be the fact that your husband has left you for a younger woman. But, even though it surprises me, the fact that she is sober does not feel like something I can count on. It’s too soon to tell.

  Presently, I’m keeping busy by volunteering at the nursing home. So far they haven’t assigned me any new people to visit. I just wander around and make sure everyone is okay wherever they’re sitting. I ask them how they are and if I can get them anything. I’m waiting for one of them to say, “Sure, girlie, I’d like a gin and tonic.” Like that would be coming right up. Most of them just stare at me. It’s really sad. I don’t want to live to be this old if all I do is sit in a wheelchair and drool.

  Of course, I’m still visiting Mrs. Sterling, and she’s back to being her feisty self. In fact she’s making a play for the new man on the block.

  “He’s a looker,” she says.

  And she’s right. He is very good looking. He still has all his hair and is tall and tan. His name is George and he’s eighty-five years old, but you’d never know it. And he’s in good shape. The first thing he asked when he got here was, “Where’s the gym?”

  They don’t have one, but they let his son bring his weights and install them in a corner of the library. So now every female here that still has her faculties is camped out in the library every morning at eight a.m. to watch him do his stuff.

  Regardless of Mavis’s wrinkles, she is a fine-looking woman and she’s the one that catches George’s eye. Whenever I get here at lunchtime they’re always sitting next to each other. Mrs. Sterling turns to me and says, “Hello, Andi. Guess how many push-ups George did today?” He does them while he’s parked on his knees, but still that is really something. Most of the other men here are just sitting in wheelchairs or being wheeled to the hospital on a gurney.

  George always turns to me and says, “There’s our angel—the prettiest one in the bunch.” He’s a charmer, alright. He has Mavis wrapped around his finger. I still read to her, but George joins us and he has me reading poetry. Elizabeth Barrett Browning. I should get extra points in English for this. Today I’m reading “A Thought For a Lonely Death-Bed.” Talk about depressing. Mavis asked for that one. But the ending is pretty:

  But stoop thyself to gather my life’s rose,

  And smile away my mortal to divine.

  Since Mr. Sterling is gone I picture George gathering her in his arms as she takes her last breath and it pinches a little corner of my heart.

  George asks me to read “A Woman’s Shortcomings.” And Mavis laughs and says, “Don’t look at me. I don’t have any.”

  “This one is an ode to lasting love,” George explains.

  I get to the part that says,

  Unless you can swear “for life, for death!”

  Oh, fear to call it loving!

  So George must be right. It is about lasting love. And Mavis did love Mr. Sterling to his death, so her being with George feels okay. Now they’re holding hands and Mavis has never looked happier. And she never says curse words around George. That part’s nice. And when I read, I never have to shout at them.

  Still, I miss Mr. Sterling. He had so much spunk. I can still hear him. He’s yelling in my ear, “WHAT’D YOU SAY, GIRLIE?”

  ***

  Beth has decided to go to law school and has applied to Emory so she can continue to live at home. This is making my father very happy. “You can join my law firm, once you graduate. Keep it in the family.”

  I hope he is not counting on me following in her footsteps. I have no desire to be a lawyer. Actually, I have no desire to be anything right now. Life is just too depressing at the moment to want to do anything.

  Beth makes the announcement at dinner. She even taps her spoon against her water glass to call us to attention and waits for Rosa to join us.

  Rosa puts her arms around Beth and kisses her on the cheek. “Is good,” she says. “Make your father big happy, yes?” Rosa looks at me and nods her head.

  Like I am interested if my father is big happy. He should be miserable for what he’s done. My mother doesn’t talk about him other than to say he’s called and wants me to call him back, that sort of thing. But in my heart I know she is hurting. My mother has always been devoted to my father and that is not something that ends just because he leaves. This is why I am afraid that my mother will start drinking again. Eventually she will not be able to keep herself together. I tell myself it’s a matter of time. That’s another reason why I’m so depressed. Why can’t I believe in her? Beth does. She says, “Mother is making great strides. She’s stronger than you think.”

  But how does she know this? And how can she be so sure? The only thing I am sure of is that life is not ever going to be the same. My father has not come back and it doesn’t look like he’s going to.

  Chapter Sixty

  Donna and Bridget’s father are getting divorced.

  “When did this happen?” I ask.

  “Last night. They had this big fight because my father wants us to move to England and Donna said it was out of the question and my father said he would decide where they live and she could live with it or leave and she said ‘Fine, I’m leaving.’”

  Bridget plops down on my bed and puts her hands under her head. “I always thought I’d be happy if Donna went away,” Bridget says in a whisper, like she’s talking to herself. “But now I’d rather she come back so we don’t have to move to London.”

  This is definitely not good, Donna and her father getting a divorce. It means she’s free to see my father whenever she wants and I was hoping he’d realized he’d made a big mistake in leaving and come home. I had it all planned out in my mind. He’d come in the door and throw his arms around my mother, beg her forgiveness, and tell her he simply can’t live without her. He can’t understand what he was thinking.
/>   “Living without you—ridiculous,” he would say and shake his head like he should have it examined.

  “Does this mean you’re moving to England?” My whole life is falling apart.

  “Maybe not,” Bridget says. She rolls over on her stomach and rests her head in her hands. “After Donna said she was leaving he got all apologetic and said they really didn’t have to move to England. He just thought it was a good idea, but if she didn’t want to go, that was fine. He’d keep commuting.”

  “And what did Donna say?”

  “She said she’d have to think about it. She wasn’t sure she could trust him anymore.” Bridget starts giggling. “Huh! She can’t trust him. That’s funny, don’t you think?”

  Actually, nothing’s funny to me right now. My life keeps getting more and more complicated. “So then what?” I ask.

  “I don’t know. They saw me peeking around the corner, listening, and started pretending everything was alright. And I said, ‘Are you guys getting a divorce?’ And my father said, ‘Don’t be silly. We’re just having a little discussion, is all.’”

  “And what did Donna say?”

  “Nothing, she just sat there with one hand to her forehead and the other one in the air like she was trying to get him to stop talking. They’re getting a divorce is what I think.”

  “I hope you’re wrong,” I say.

  “I thought it would make you happy having Donna out of the way.”

  “Well, it would, except my father’s moved out, remember? Having Donna divorced is just going to make things worse.”

  “Gosh, I forgot all about that,” Bridget says. “You don’t think that’s the real reason Donna wants a divorce do you?”

  “Duh!”

  How was my mother ever going to compete with Donna now?

  ***

  I don’t want Bridget to move to England. I don’t want my father to have his own apartment. I don’t want Donna getting a divorce. I don’t want my mother to start drinking again.

  Everything in my life right now revolves around what I don’t want. I think of Henry and know exactly what he’d say. “Well now, I know what you don’t want, Andi, but what is it that you want?”

  That sounds like such an easy question. But all I can think of is that I want to be happy—not some kind of ecstatic happy, just plain old regular happy. That’s going to be hard to accomplish. Bridget just called. Donna moved out last night. They have no idea where she went. Let me tell you where I figure she went: to my father’s apartment, that’s where.

  Bridget’s father has gone into a major depression.

  “He’s moping around the house,” she says. “And he’s taking time out from work. He says he needs to decide what direction we’re going in.”

  Mostly downhill. Donna is the cause of two families biting the dust.

  “I don’t want you to move to England,” I say. “Maybe this is a good time to tell your father that’s not a good option. He will never get Donna back if he’s in England. How about that? Tell him that!”

  “I don’t want to remind him about Donna, right now,” Bridget says. She looks out my window and has such a sad look on her face that I want to hug her. “He’s having enough trouble trying not to think of her on his own.”

  “That’s so sad.”

  “I know. He turned over all of her pictures. They’re facing the wall.”

  I want to sneak into their house and turn them around and stick daggers in them. If Donna had never been born maybe both of our lives would be going along really good right now.

  “Let’s go over to my father’s apartment,” I say. “If we just pop in on him, we can see if she’s there.”

  Bridget turns around from the window. Her face is whiter than cotton. “I know she left my father, but I don’t want to think it was just so she could have yours.”

  Bridget starts crying. And that makes me start crying. We’re a mess, the both of us, just a total mess.

  I grab the box of Kleenex from the bathroom and hand her a tissue. I take one for myself and wipe my nose, then pull another from the box to dab at my eyes. “So, you want to go over there or not?”

  Chapter Sixty-one

  We get Beth to drive us over to my dad’s. She’s off to take the prelaw exam. Last night we sat on her bed and pored over sample questions. They are very bizarre. Beth is not concerned by the sample questions. She just smiles and says they are not that difficult if you break them down to eliminate which ones could not possibly be the answer and you are left with the one that is. I can’t believe Beth is going to take an actual exam with these types of questions. It lasts for like four hours. I would shoot myself. I left her to her studies and went to bed.

  Now we’re at my dad’s. Beth pulls up in front of The Landing on Peachtree.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to come in and say hello?”

  “I’m running late already. Get Daddy to take you home.”

  With that she’s off. Bridget and I take the elevator to the twentieth floor and ring the doorbell.

  “Andi,” my father says. “What a surprise.” He doesn’t seem the least bit nervous, which makes me think that Donna’s not here, after all.

  He asks us to come in and offers us a cold drink. Bridget sits down on the sofa and surveys the room. It has that magnificent view of downtown Atlanta. Bridget gets up and goes over to the windows. They run the entire length of the living room.

  “Far out!” she says.

  I’m about to join her when who should walk into the room but Donna.

  “I thought I heard someone,” she says, like it’s nothing out of the ordinary for her to be over at my father’s place. Of course, we walked in on them at the Ritz so it’s no secret their being together, but still.

  “Andi,” my father says. “Come sit down. This is as good a time as any for me to explain what’s going on.”

  There’s a lump in my throat as big as a watermelon. I sit at the edge of the sofa and fold my hands like I’m praying. I really don’t want an explanation. I want this whole thing to go away.

  Instead of sitting down my father stands beside Donna and puts his arm around her. Here it comes.

  “Donna and I have fallen in love,” he says.

  What’d I tell you?

  “It wasn’t something we planned. It just happened. We want to be together. Spend our lives together.”

  I can’t help myself. Tears start spilling down my face.

  “Does this mean you’re not coming home?” This is a stupid question.

  “I’m afraid not, Andi. Donna and I are going to be married as soon as our divorces are final.”

  “But you said you were going away to think!” I jump up from the sofa. “That you just needed some time away—”

  “Andi, don’t make this any harder than it already is. I know what I said, but I don’t need any more time to decide what I want in my life. Life’s too short to compromise. When you’re older, you’ll understand.”

  If I’ve heard that once, I’ve heard that a zillion times. It’s how parents blow you off.

  “Girls,” Donna says and tries to reach out and take our hands. “Once we’re married and we’re settled, we want you to come by anytime. You’re always welcome.”

  Please—the divorces aren’t even filed and she’s planning for company—already thinking of dinner parties and who to invite.

  “I don’t want to visit you!” I scream. “I want my father back!”

  Bridget hasn’t said a word. In a way I think she’s happy that Donna will no longer be in her life, but what about her father? She should think about that. Right now I just want to get out of there. But I don’t want my father driving us anywhere. I reach for the phone and call my mother.

  “No, we’ll just meet you down in front,” I say, when she asks if she should come up and see how my father is doing.

  I want to say, “Trust me, you don’t want to know how he’s doing.” Instead I hang up the receiver and turn to my dad.


  “I hope you’re both very happy now that you’ve ruined our lives.” I look straight at Donna. “My mother will probably never recover,” I say. “It’s your fault. You’re a husband stealer and you already had one of your own. I hate you.” Then I turn back to my father. “And I hate you, too! You’ve ruined everything.”

  Bridget grabs hold of my arm and pulls me toward the door.

  “Come on, Andi,” she says. “That’s not going to help. It’s not going to change anything.”

  Maybe not, but it made me feel better just saying it. I had a lot more where that came from, but Bridget opened the door and dragged me to the elevator.

  ***

  I was right about Bridget’s father. He’s taking the news very hard. The worst part is he’s decided to take the promotion in England. And he says they can’t take Rudy, Bridget’s dog. Bridget has had that dog like forever. This bit of news has Bridget in hysterics.

  “I’ll be getting a flat until I decide where we’ll live,” her father says. “Taking the dog is out of the question.”

  Bridget runs up to her room and I follow. She slams the door and throws herself on her bed.

  “I hate him! And I’m not going to London. I’ll run away!”

  Which makes me scared because saying you’ll run away is kind of like a person saying they’re going to kill themselves. Many times they mean it.

  “I know!” I say. “We’ll keep the dog. Then you can come and visit. How about that?”

  Bridget sits up and wipes the tears off her face. “That’d be better than letting strangers have him.”

  “When are you going?” I want to know how much time I have to convince my mother we just have to keep Rudy.

  “I don’t know,” she says, “but soon.”