She asked, “Is that when it happened?”
PJ squirmed a bit. “I shouldn’t have said anything. You need to hear this from Mo.”
Stephanie was beginning to feel the alcohol. She said, “Fuck Mo. Like you said, you’re here as my friend. Tell me what you know,” she grinned, “or I might start throwing china at you, too.”
“Okay, but don’t shoot the messenger.”
Stephanie laughed. “I don’t have a gun, but I’m dead aim with a prime rib.”
PJ gave in. “You’re already well on your way to being drunk, so you’ll probably forget this conversation.” She hesitated only a moment, and then said, “Remember we had a party that night, waiting for Mo to call.”
“Yeah, she called and said the documentary was a smash hit. She was plastered, as I recall. I was worried she wouldn’t make it back to her room.”
PJ nodded. “Yes, and then we tried to call her about an hour later.”
Stephanie remembered. “She never answered. I tossed and turned all night, not knowing if she was okay. She didn’t call back until the next morning.”
“Yeah, some shit about forgetting to plug her phone in, when she got back to the hotel.”
“Oh, my God. It was that night.” Stephanie felt the rage rising, again. “I laid there wondering if she was dead in a ditch and she was fucking all night.”
“Now, to be honest, she was so drunk, I doubt there was an all-nighter. She woke up, realized what she had done, and fled the scene. At least, that’s what she told me, tonight.”
Stephanie poured her own shot this time. She threw it down her throat, not bothering with the salt or lemon. No wonder Mo had been uptight for two months.
“How un-fucking-believably naïve I am. Here I was, scrambling around trying to make everything perfect and stress-free for Mo, and she had already betrayed me.”
PJ was feeling the tequila too. “You know what they say, love is blind.”
Stephanie stood up and paced the room. “I just want to hit something. I’d prefer it be Michaela with my car, but I don’t want to go to jail.”
PJ tried to inject some levity. “We could go kidnap and terrorize her. You know, that little princess would be scared to death of my black ass.”
It sounded like a plan to Stephanie. “Let’s do it.”
“I wasn’t serious, Steph. Damn girl, have another drink. I want to make sure you pass out, so if I do, you can’t sneak off and do something stupid.”
Stephanie took the glass, knocked back the shot, and then threw the glass into the fireplace, shattering it into a million pieces. This time, the alcohol did not cause the tears that burned her eyes. She felt the pain creeping in and then it overwhelmed her. Her body started to shake and then the racking sobs took over. Stephanie fell back down on the couch and cried, while PJ patted her back and whispered, “It’s okay, let it out.”
When Stephanie finally spoke, she just asked, “Why? Why did she ruin it all? I hate her, PJ. I hate her. I don’t want to love her anymore.”
PJ kept patting her back. She answered, “Let it out. Go ahead; scream if you need to, just get all that hate out, now. Don’t let it linger. You’ll never heal if you hang on to it.”
Stephanie took PJ’s advice. “Damn her! And damn that little bitch. If I could get my hands on her, I’d strangle her.”
“If Mo doesn’t kill her first,” PJ muttered.
PJ’s declaration surprised Stephanie. She sat up and looked at PJ. “What?”
“Mo said she threw that napkin away last night, as soon as Michaela handed it to her. She said, and I quote, ‘I know that bitch put it in my pocket. The more I pushed her away, the harder she tried.’ She was kind of blackmailing Mo, not overtly, but the threat that she would tell you what happened loomed in the air all the time. At least, that’s how Mo saw it.”
That bit of information didn’t placate Stephanie. “She should have just fired her.”
“She tried, but Michaela waved the contract in her face. The lawyer Mo contacted said the bitch owned her for the remainder of the contract, which means Mo has to finish the next project before she can get out of it. He also said, if Mo did not do the project, then Michaela could file a lawsuit, come after the house, your business, and anything else Mo cared about to get her cut.”
“How could she come after my business?” Stephanie asked.
“Remember, you gave Mo shares last year. It was to protect her should something happen to you, but it’s there on paper. Anything with Mo’s name on it is fair game.”
Stephanie was drunk and confused. Her MBA couldn’t cut through the alcohol, but she understood enough. “Why does she want Mo so badly, if Mo wants nothing to do with her?”
PJ laughed. “Honey, Michaela doesn’t want Mo. When she’s done with her, the little leech will try to suck the life out of someone else’s wife or husband. I know her kind. It’s the chase that turns her on. She has to win.”
“She won, PJ.” Stephanie crumbled back down in the pillows on the couch, bawling.
PJ patted her back again, saying, “Only if you can’t find the strength to let Mo back in your life. I’m not asking you to. I know she broke your heart, but if you let that little bitch end your relationship, then she does win.”
Stephanie felt the walls crashing in, as she began to pass out, still crying. The last thing she thought she heard was PJ say, “Mo isn’t perfect, but she loves you more than her dreams.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Stephanie woke to smell of bacon frying. It made her ill immediately. It reminded her of the morning sickness she had when she was pregnant. PJ must have covered her with a blanket at some point. Her neck was stiff from the awkward way she had been laying. Stephanie stood up quickly, which was the wrong thing to do, causing her to run to the downstairs bathroom. She noticed PJ asleep in the recliner, but it didn’t register that someone else was cooking in her kitchen, until she was sitting on the tile floor of the bathroom, trying to focus. A soft knock on the bathroom door startled her.
Her mother’s voice came through the door. “Stephanie, are you all right, honey?”
“Yes, just give me a minute.”
Stephanie looked at the clock on the wall. How did her mother come in the house without waking her? Stephanie remembered the tequila and instantly threw up again. If this was what blind drunk did to her, she wanted no part of it, ever again. When she could stand, Stephanie rinsed her mouth out and wandered toward the kitchen. Her mother was standing over the stove cooking scrambled eggs. Stephanie rolled her eyes at the food and grabbed a bottle of water out of the refrigerator.
Her mother took it from her, saying, “You evidently are not an experienced tequila drinker. You need eggs with hot sauce and some toast. Trust me.” She reached in the refrigerator and pulled out one of Colt’s sports drinks. “Here, drink this. You need the electrolytes.”
Stephanie usually didn’t drink Colt’s preferred beverage, but she did as she was told. The cold liquid hit the bottom of her stomach and threatened to come right back up, but she held it down and managed to drink half the bottle.
“Mom, how did you get in here without me hearing you?”
“I came in the back door. Luckily, it was unlocked. I could have used my key, but I left the house so fast, I forgot it. I found you two passed out in the den and decided a rescue breakfast was in order.”
“Why are you here?” Stephanie asked.
“Well, to make a long story short, I got a call from Mo this morning.”
“Oh.”
“She didn’t give me any details, but I gathered from our ragged conversation, between the crying jags, that she royally screwed up and you were breaking china.”
“She cheated on me, Mom.”
“Yes, and you’re not the first wife that has ever happened to, or husband for that matter.”
“Wait, Mo called you this morning. Her flight left at six o’clock. How did she call you from the air?”
Her mother shrug
ged her shoulders. “She told me she was at PJ’s.”
“Did someone say my name?” A bedraggled PJ walked into the kitchen. The rectangle shaped hair on her head looked more like a pyramid.
“Good morning. I’ll have the eggs ready in a minute. You two go wash up and we’ll have a nice little breakfast.”
PJ and Stephanie groaned, but left the kitchen. Stephanie climbed to the second floor, while PJ took the bathroom downstairs. The absence of Mo hit Stephanie hard, once she was back in the master bedroom. She never noticed how much of Mo was in that room, until she didn’t want to see it. Pictures of their wedding in Canada, with four-year-old Colt as the ring bearer, and other memories of a happy family filled the walls and the dresser. Her favorite stared back at her from the bedside table. It was of Mo, in hospital scrubs holding brand new baby Colt, beaming at the camera as if she’d found the secret to life.
Stephanie wanted to wake up from the nightmare. She’d do things differently, if she had the chance. Her hopes and dreams would not have been centered on Mo. She would not have spent all of her time making sure Mo was happy. There was no telling what Stephanie could have made of herself, if she had put her needs before Mo’s, but then she may not have had Colt. He was as much a part of Mo as Stephanie. Stephanie gave birth to him, but Mo had been there every step of the way. Mo was a good parent. She loved Colt with all her heart. A stabbing pain bent Stephanie over. She thought she was going to be sick. She balanced herself on one arm, leaning on the bed, before she gave in and ran to the bathroom. When she had nothing left but dry heaves, Stephanie leaned against the glass shower door and cried.
In a few minutes, her mother’s voice filled the room. “Stephanie, I know this hurts like hell, but you’ve got to pull it together. Colt called your cell and I answered it. I told him you decided to take the day off and we were having breakfast. He’ll be here in a few minutes. He has practice and forgot his cleats. You don’t want him to see you like this.”
Her mother’s hands gently gripped Stephanie’s shoulders.
“Come on, honey.”
Stephanie was placed on the stool at the make-up counter.
“Stephanie, I’m going to give you one piece of advice, unsolicited, then if you want more, you’ll have to ask. This isn’t my burden to bear. I’ve carried my own for all these years. Your heart is broken. It will heal. What you have to realize is this isn’t all about you. This is a family crisis, not a personal one. Other lives are at stake here. You cannot let your pain overshadow that.”
Stephanie searched her mother’s face. She saw it there in her eyes, long since buried pain, a heartbreak Stephanie had never known existed.
“It’s all out on the table now. The hard part is over. The agony will lessen with each passing day. If you choose to wallow in your grief, well, that’s your choice, honey, or you can look at this as a fresh start. I’ll stand behind you, whatever you decide to do, but take this week to think about it. Colt already thinks Mo’s in LA. I can tell by the stains on the wall in the dining room that you haven’t had a rational conversation with her. You two need to talk, put your feelings aside, and decide what the rest of your son’s life is going to be like, then you can worry about your own.”
Her mom patted Stephanie’s shoulder and left her alone to get dressed. Stephanie stared at her haggard image in the mirror. She concentrated on her mother’s words, not fully comprehending, but it was all Stephanie could focus on, at the moment. Her hand reached mechanically for the brush and started pulling her shoulder length hair back into shape. Her eyelids were puffy and bruised. No amount of make-up would obscure that from view, but a pair of sunglasses would.
Stephanie made herself presentable, changed her clothes, and went back downstairs. She helped her mother move all the breakfast things to the deck. PJ cleaned up the den. When Colt arrived, Stephanie and the others were seated at the table. The large dark sunglasses she wore hid the pain from Colt.
“Hey, baby boy. You want some breakfast?” Stephanie asked, smiling as if it were just another day in paradise.
“Yes, sit down. I’ll fix you a plate,” his grandmother offered.
“Hey, Mom. Hey, Grandma. PJ.” He hugged his relatives and settled for a fist blow-up with PJ. “I already ate.”
Business as usual, on Stephanie’s part, she corrected him, “Thank you, but I’ve already eaten.”
He repeated her words exactly, while snatching a piece of toast, then added, “Trev’s mom is waiting. I just came to get my cleats.”
“Do you want me to pick you up after practice? We can go for pizza.” Stephanie was holding it together, despite her emotional state.
“No, we’re going to Wyatt’s house to swim. Then Trev’s mom will drop me back off. I told her you were probably having a bad day, with Mo leaving. She said for you to just relax and enjoy yourself.”
“That was sweet of her, and you. Come give me a kiss before you go.”
He leaned down, kissed her on the cheek, and said, “I’ll hang with you tonight. We can watch a movie.”
“Okay, sweetheart. Don’t forget to ice your arm.”
“You sound just like Mo.” Colt grinned. “See you guys later.”
Stephanie watched him bound into the house, a happy boy with no clue that his world was teetering. Her mom smiled at her. Stephanie dug into the eggs. She would need fortification to keep this up and there was that other thing. Mo had not gone to LA.
PJ’s phone rang on cue. Her expression said Mo was on the line. She excused herself to take the call. Stephanie put her fork down and stared off into space. She felt a hand grip hers and turned to see tears welling in her mother’s eyes.
“If I could take the pain from you and hold it myself, I would.”
“Oh, Mom, don’t cry,” Stephanie said, but she was crying too. “I’m sorry this is dredging up old memories for you. I take it our conversation in the bathroom comes from experience.”
Her mother dabbed her eyes and regained her confident, “I am Woman,” appearance. Debra Austin had shown Stephanie just a peek in the vault where she kept her deepest pain. She cleared her throat.
“Yes, your father and I went through this. I’m not going to explain the circumstances. That really isn’t anyone’s business but ours. What I will say is, faced with losing my family, I chose to stay.”
Stephanie leaned forward. “How, Mom? How did you forgive him?”
“You mean after I wanted him dead?” Debra laughed.
Stephanie smiled. “That, I do understand.”
“Honey, your father is the love of my life. He is also a human being. People do the damnedest things, with no earthly idea why they did them. He was devastated by what he’d done. He’s a good man. He loves me. He loves his family. Believe me, he paid dearly for his dalliance.”
“And you trusted him after that?”
“I had no choice, Stephanie. He couldn’t live with my doubts, and neither could I. Now, I did step up surveillance and I never let a woman in the room wonder who he belonged to, but I had to trust him. My belief in him made us stronger.”
“I never knew.”
“We wanted it that way. Our kids didn’t make the mess, we did. It was ours to clean up.”
PJ walked back over to the table. “Mo didn’t go to LA. She said she’s not leaving here without talking to you first.”
Some of what PJ said last night filtered through to Stephanie. She stood up suddenly.
“She has to go to LA. She can’t breach that contract.”
PJ sat down, shaking her head. “She isn’t budging until she talks to you, period. I reminded her that those folks out there have lawyers that do nothing all day but file lawsuits against people like her.”
Stephanie was adamant. “Mo doesn’t have a choice, at least until we can find a way to get her out of that agent contract.”
PJ and Stephanie’s mother exchanged grins.
Stephanie said, “What?”
Her mother smiled up at her. “You
said, ‘we’ have to get her out of the contract.”
“I’m not taking her back. I just don’t want to lose my house.”
PJ shoveled up a fork full of eggs and said, “Well, she’s not living at my house, so you go on over there and have your talk. I’m going to stay with Mrs. Austin here and have polite conversation over coffee.”
Stephanie looked at her mother for help.
“Go on. Put your big girl panties on and have your say.”
Stephanie’s shoulders slumped and she felt like a teenager being sent to do her homework. The dread of what was to come weighed heavy in her steps, as she started for the door.
PJ called out to her, “Hey, don’t start throwing things at my house. That china belonged to my grandmother.”
#
Stephanie sat in her car, outside of PJ’s little white house. She checked the make-up she applied back at home, not because she wanted to look nice. She didn’t want Mo to see how much she’d been crying. The concealer had done magic, but the puffiness still remained. Too bad they couldn’t just sit on the porch, where Stephanie could keep her sunglasses on. The conversation they were about to have needed to take place behind closed doors.
Stephanie looked back at the house and saw the front door now stood open. She had been spotted. Somewhere inside the house, Mo was pacing. Stephanie knew her wife so well she could predict what she would be wearing, a pair of old gray sweat pants and a blue tee shirt, with the University logo almost illegible from wear. These were her comfort clothes. Stephanie had made sure to put them in Mo’s suitcase, before she threw her out. Even at her most enraged, Stephanie had still been taking care of Mo.
Peering in the mirror on the visor, Stephanie considered her options. There were not many. She couldn’t drive back home, crawl in bed, and hope it all worked itself out. This wasn’t going away and putting it off would just postpone the inevitable. Stephanie and Mo had to sit down and talk about Colt. Like her mother said, the rest of it could wait, but their son was going to want answers. Stephanie took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She spoke to her reflection.
Before It Stains Page 5