Before It Stains

by R. E. Bradshaw

  “Jordan told you I was looking for a man?” Stephanie said, a little too loudly. Heads turned in her direction.

  Todd looked around and spoke in a hushed voice. “No, Geri Lee said you and Mo had decided to go back to men.”

  “Oh, for the love of God!” Stephanie exclaimed, just as Colt threw the next pitch.

  Colt came inside on the batter with an off-speed pitch. The bat made a whooshing sound, as it cut through the air. At the sound of the ball slapping the leather of Trevor’s glove, the stands erupted in cheers. Stephanie missed the whole thing, still staring at Todd with her mouth open.

  While the rest of the spectators were occupied with celebrating, Stephanie recovered enough from the shock to lean close to Todd, and whisper, “Just for future reference, if Mo and I did split up, you can rest assured a man would be the last thing I’d be looking for. I’m a lesbian, Todd. I don’t do dick, so go wag yours somewhere else.”

  Todd’s expression was one of utter surprise. “I’m sorry. I seem to have offended you. I was simply offering my services.”

  “No service required. Now, do you mind? I would like to watch my son play baseball.”

  Todd shrugged his shoulders and walked away, as if he were the one offended. Randy held his cascade of laughter long enough not to do it in Todd’s face. Stephanie elbowed him hard, just as Colt walked by to get his high-fives.

  “Great pitching, honey,” Stephanie said.

  Colt asked, “Was that Jordan’s dad?”

  Randy, who was trying to rub away the pain in his ribs, added, “Yeah, he was hitting on your mom.”

  Colt laid his head back and laughed. “Jordan’s right. That guy is totally clueless.”

  “You have no idea.” Stephanie replied. “Now, go get a hit.”

  Colt didn’t get a hit, nor did anyone else. The inning closed with the score still three to zero. Stephanie took more pictures of Colt pitching and sent them to Mo with no message attached, other than the score. Colt pitched well and all three batters for the other team went down swinging. Blake, who had a wicked fastball, pitched the sixth and seventh innings. After all the off-speed pitches from Colt, the opposition could not catch up to Blake’s steam. Colt’s team didn’t score any more, but the three runs were plenty to win the game. Stephanie couldn’t remember ever being as happy to see a game end.

  Stephanie was hoping to avoid dealing with any more gossipmongers, as she waited for Colt to come out of the dugout. When he emerged with the rest of the team, Colt was beaming, exchanging hugs and high-fives all around.

  “I’m proud of you,” Stephanie said, as she hugged her sweaty teenager.

  “Did you send Mo some pics?” Colt asked.

  Randy answered for her, “Yes, she did. She even sent a movie of you getting hit with the pitch, audio and everything.”

  “Cool,” Colt responded. “I’d like to see that.”

  Stephanie thought quickly. “I accidently erased it. I’m sorry.”

  “That’s okay. Coach’s wife probably got it. She tapes our at bats.” Colt said, and then asked Stephanie, “Can I stay and watch the second game? Trev’s mom said she’d bring me home.”

  “May I stay,” Stephanie corrected him.

  “May I stay, please,” Colt asked again.

  “Yes, you may. Call Mo. I’m sure she’s waiting for the play by play. Do you have money for food?”

  Colt answered, “Yeah,” and then corrected himself. “I mean, yes.”

  “Would you walk with me for a second? PJ, Mom, I’ll meet you at the car. Randy, are you coming back to the house?”

  “No, but I’ll be there to get you at one o’clock tomorrow afternoon. I have plans for you,” Randy said, walking away with the others.

  Stephanie led Colt down the fence away from everyone, so they could talk privately. He looked confused, but followed along. When they were alone, Stephanie stopped and looked up at Colt.

  “Honey, I know you are upset about Mo and me fighting. I realize you need to talk about it, so please don’t misunderstand what I’m about to say.”

  “What, Mom? What’s the matter?”

  “Colt, whatever you said to Trevor and Jordan in confidence has now been blown out of proportion. You know the telephone game? Well, it’s something like that. I just want you to know that if anything serious were going on, you would be the first to know. Understand?”

  “Why are you telling me this? Is there something really wrong?” Colt was confused.

  Stephanie smiled to ease his tensions. “Because when you hear that Mo and I are splitting up and she left me for a man in LA, I want you to know it’s all just stupid gossip and nothing more.”

  Colt started laughing, which eased Stephanie’s mind a bit. “You’re kidding me, right? Someone actually said that?”

  Stephanie rolled her eyes. “Yes, be careful what you say, okay honey? I know it’s not your fault, but somehow my breaking a few dishes has turned into chairs flying out of windows and blood on the walls.”

  “Oh, man. I’m sorry, Mom. I’ll straighten it out.” Colt was truly remorseful.

  Stephanie looped her arm in his and headed them back toward the dugout. “Don’t worry about it. I’m a big girl. I just didn’t want you to be blindsided by a rumor. Okay?”

  “No worries, Mom.”

  Stephanie hugged him once more and then let him go with his friends. As he jogged away, she watched him for a moment. She had not lied to him, but Stephanie was holding back the truth of how grave things really were at home. She was setting him up to be blindsided by her own actions, if by the end of the week she decided to stick to her guns and make Mo leave for good.

  Stephanie whispered, “I’m sorry, Pony Boy.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Stephanie said goodbye to her mother and PJ in the driveway, before entering the quiet of her home. Dragging up the stairs, she passed the happy family photos on the walls and barely looked. In the bedroom, she changed her clothes. She opened the closet door to put her dirty tee shirt and shorts in the hamper. The walk-in was as organized as her life. Mo’s shirts, trousers, and the one obligatory black dress hung on the left, with some of Stephanie’s jackets toward the back of the row. Stephanie’s dresses, blouses, slacks, and business suits hung to the right, according to season. Mo had a few pairs of shoes. Stephanie had many more. It was only right. Stephanie was expected to dress for work in a much different environment than that of Mo’s casual academia.

  Stephanie turned on the overhead light in the walk-in closet. She stared at her wardrobe. Randy’s assessment had been correct. Her tastes had gone from colorful to bland over the years, as witnessed by the neat row of conservative suits in muted colors, with matching shoes. She started pulling the out-of-date jackets off hangers first, finding a box in the back of the closet to put them in. Soon Stephanie had to go to the garage for more boxes, which she found neatly folded and stacked, where she placed them after their move into this house five years ago. At least, that particular hoarding practice had paid off in the end.

  With packing tape, boxes, and garbage bags in hand, she climbed the stairs intent on removing the color beige from her wardrobe. As she passed the grease stains on the dining room wall, Stephanie chuckled. Losing her temper and melting into a puddle in the corner were so out of character for her; looking back, it felt like an out of body experience. She remembered it all, but from a distance. Her mind wouldn’t let her world spin that far out of control again. Back in the bedroom, she called George, a handyman that worked for her company, and made arrangements for him to come over in the morning to repaint the dining room. At least, that stain wouldn’t last forever.

  Stephanie started packing away everything she thought looked as if it belonged to a sixty-something Texas librarian, albeit a smartly dressed one. When the hangers were nearly bare, she culled the contents of the built-in closet drawers, and then attacked the six-drawer dresser in the bedroom. Old undergarments went in the trash, worn nightgowns followed. Her fav
orite tattered housecoat met the same fate. For two hours, Stephanie purged her wardrobe of anything remotely old and too familiar. The cleansing did her good, if for no other reason than she didn’t think about Mo’s betrayal, not once.

  The flashing images of Mo in bed with Michaela, though imagined, had haunted her for days, always catching her off guard. Sometimes she couldn’t shut the images down and the movie played on in her mind, too long, too intimate for Stephanie to watch. Yet, she couldn’t look away. Shutting her eyes did no good. It only gave the movie high definition with stereo sound. The few hours of uninterrupted eradication of old Stephanie was a welcome distraction. She looked at all the half-empty drawers and her nearly naked closet and realized, if nothing else, she was getting a new wardrobe out of this mess. That was something she could smile about.

  Stephanie hauled three boxes and two large black garbage bags down to the garage. She was thinking of cleaning the spare bedroom, maybe moving Mo’s things down there until a decision was made. Stephanie was contemplating how she would explain that to Colt, as she hit the button on the wall to open the garage door. The garbage bags needed to be taken to the curb, or she would be stuck with them for a week. Car headlights turned into the driveway, blinding Stephanie. She turned away and came face to face with what the passengers of the vehicle were seeing.

  Stephanie had stacked the boxes near the garage door, so George could run them over to Goodwill in the morning. Stephanie paid little attention to the boxes, simply filling them and taping them shut. Now, under the blazing headlights, the large black letters stood out, screaming the wrong message – “MO’S STUFF.” Stephanie had laughed at Mo’s choice of labeling when they moved. Now, it wasn’t so funny.

  Colt was out of Marlene’s vehicle before it came to a complete stop. “What the hell, Mom?”

  Stephanie ignored the profanity. The stricken look on his face was her main concern.

  “Honey, these are old boxes from the move. I was just cleaning out my closet.” She winked, to settle him down. “Yours is next. Hide your favorite stuff. I’m on a clearing out binge.”

  Colt smiled and took the two garbage bags from Stephanie, saying, “Maybe you should just eat some chocolate,” before he turned away.

  “Wow, already understands women at fifteen. You’ve done a great job with him,” Marlene said, suddenly at Stephanie’s side.

  “I think we’ll keep him,” Stephanie said, watching Trevor and Colt carry the garbage bags down the driveway.

  Marlene peeked around Stephanie. “So, what’s with all the boxes?”

  “Just some things for Goodwill.” To stall the rumors she added, “Those are old boxes from when we moved in.”

  “Oh,” Marlene said, quietly.

  Stephanie could tell Marlene didn’t believe her, but it was hard enough facing the reality that Mo’s stuff might indeed be on the way out the door. Finding their relationship the leading gossip in the neighborhood was making it worse. Stephanie changed the subject.

  “The game is at six tomorrow, right?”

  Marlene tore her eyes from the boxes. “Yes, six. I’ll pick Colt up at four.”

  Stephanie put her hand on Marlene’s elbow, skillfully steering her back to her car. “Have I told you lately how much I appreciate your hauling my kid around?”

  Marlene forgot about the boxes and glowed in the praise. “I already have a herd, what’s one more? We love having Colt around. He’s a good boy.”

  “Well, you’ll have to send the herd over sometime so you and Eric can have an evening out.”

  Marlene climbed into the driver’s seat, her middle-school twins in the backseat, two more tweeners in the rear. “Oh, I gave up that pipe dream years ago. I’ll see Eric again when the last one is in college.”

  “Yes, but will he still be there,” was what Stephanie thought. What she said was, “Well, think about it. I’m sure I can handle them for twenty-four hours.”

  Trevor climbed into the car and shut the door. Marlene leaned out the window.

  “I hope your troubles pass soon. If you need someone to talk to, I’m a good listener.”

  Stephanie said, “Thanks,” and Marlene’s SUV rolled back down the driveway.

  Marlene would be the last person on earth Stephanie would share her deepest thoughts with. Marlene was an excellent mother, but an even better busy body. Stephanie liked Marlene, even with her penchant for gossip. She could be counted on in a crisis to organize food, take care of kids, and help keep a person’s world from crashing down around them. Those skills might come in handy with the way things were going.

  #

  When they came inside Stephanie fed him again, even though he told her he had three hot dogs at the game, and now they were both upstairs in their bedrooms, a typical night, no drama. Colt seemed satisfied that whatever was going on with his moms would work itself out. Hunger abated for the moment, he went to his room to play video games. Stephanie decided to clean the bathroom cabinets and closet. Half a garbage bag later and all that was left to go through was a box she couldn’t reach at the back of the top shelf.

  “Colt, could you help me get this box down?” Stephanie asked, standing in Colt’s doorway.

  “Sure, Mom.”

  Colt smiled. He loved being the tall one in the house. He tapped a few keys on the game controller in his hands and then bounded off the bed. Stephanie followed Colt to her bathroom and waited, while he easily reached and retrieved the medium sized box from the shelf. He carried the box and placed it on the bed.

  “What’s in there?” Colt asked, studying the outside of the box.

  “I don’t know. It’s been there since we moved in. It’s obviously something we don’t need.”

  Stephanie pulled the packing tape back and opened the box. They both sat down and peered inside. The larger box contained a folded baby blanket with several shoeboxes underneath. Stephanie lifted the blanket and smiled. She put it to her face and searched for the baby scents it once held. Whether they were still there or not, Stephanie could smell them. She pulled the blanket down and looked at Colt.

  “We brought you home from the hospital in this. Mo gave me this right after we found out I was pregnant with you. She rushed out and bought it that night. I remember laughing at her, because she was so excited.”

  After her talk with Randy, Stephanie realized Mo had covered her reservations well. That night must have been an emotional roller coaster for Mo, but she made Stephanie believe it was what they both wanted. Stephanie reached out and touched Colt’s curls.

  “She loves you, you know.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Colt wasn’t in the mood for sappy mom talk. He dug in the box and pulled out one of the shoeboxes. “Wonder what’s in here?” He read what was written on the tape that held the box shut. “Dirty Santa and gag gifts.”

  Stephanie snatched the box from his hands. “Nope, don’t think we’ll be opening that box.”

  Colt smiled. “Bet there’s some stories in that one, huh?”

  Stephanie ignored him and pulled the larger box closer. She needed to see if there were other things she was not prepared to share with her teenage son. Two more shoeboxes were at the bottom. One labeled, “Steph,” and one, “Colt.” They looked safe enough, so she pulled them out. Colt reached for the one with his name on it. Stephanie didn’t stop him. He broke the tape and pulled the lid off.

  Colt dumped the contents of the box on the bed. Out fluttered pictures and pages snipped from magazines. Colt held up a picture of a big Tonka truck.

  “I remember that truck.” He fingered through the stack and pulled out more pictures of toys. “I had all of these. Why does she have pictures of them in a box?”

  Stephanie picked up one of the magazine pages. It was an article on playing classical music to babies. Another was on how to approach healthy training for young athletes. Mo had saved pieces of her research on how to be a good parent. Stephanie remembered Mo reading parenting books all through her pregnancy. She had no idea
that Mo kept collecting information after Colt was born.

  Digging through the pictures, Stephanie said, “Mo used to make dream boards. You did those in school, where you put pictures of things you want or quotes you believe in on a board?”

  “Yeah, we did them freshman year for how we saw ourselves in four years.”

  “I guess she started using shoeboxes instead of boards. It must be things she wanted for you or things you told her about. I never saw this stuff.”

  “What’s in yours?” Colt said, reaching for the other box.

  Remembering the gag box, Stephanie quickly pulled it back. “Maybe I should look first.”

  Stephanie pried off the tape and opened the lid a bit. She saw nothing alarming and took the lid off. She didn’t dump the box on the bed, but pulled the contents out one piece at a time. On top was the real estate ad for the house they now lived in. It was circled with a red pen, something Stephanie remembered doing. She left the ad on Mo’s desk one morning and for some reason Mo kept it. There were pages from magazines with pictures of outfits that somehow found their way into Stephanie’s closet, after mentioning them to Mo. A picture of the very bed they were sitting on was in the box. She recognized Valentine and Christmas presents given to her over the years. Stephanie hadn’t remembered pointing these things out to Mo. It seemed Mo paid attention to everything she said and made sure Stephanie got the things she desired.

  Stephanie dug through the box all the way to the bottom, where she found the pictures of Colt’s crib. Ten years of their lives together were chronicled there in that shoebox. It appeared to have been last touched just before they moved into the new house. Had Mo stopped listening or caring? Had Stephanie stopped talking to Mo about her hopes and dreams? Had they been too wrapped up in their lives to notice the little things anymore?

  “Looks like she loves you, too,” Colt said, breaking the silence that had overtaken the room.

  Stephanie stared into the box. “Yeah, I know.”

  Colt sensed the mood change in Stephanie. “Well, I’m gonna go play video games. Trev is waiting for me to get back online.”