Before It Stains

by R. E. Bradshaw

  Randy chuckled at Stephanie’s side. “You’ve passed the MILF test, my dear. First step to recovery.”

  “MILF?”

  “Adolescent male slang for ‘mothers I’d like to f-”

  Stephanie cut him off. “Oh God, don’t say that.”

  The three boys’ attention brought more eyes Stephanie’s way. One of the coaches, drawn to what was occupying three of his players, smiled appreciatively and tipped his hat. Stephanie glanced over at the stands. Marlene was pointing with one hand, and trying to get Geri Lee’s attention with the other. Stephanie’s mother and PJ were standing, watching her approach. They were both smiling. Stephanie beamed back at them, as a trace of her once youthful self-assurance swept over her. Somewhere along the way, she lost that sense of being anything but someone’s wife or mother. The looks she was receiving told her she was well on her way to regaining her identity as a sensual woman.

  Stephanie walked up to the fence, where Colt was now standing, fingers draped through the wire mesh. Trevor and Wyatt hung back, still gawking.

  “Wow, Mom. You look sick.”

  Stephanie knew from her dealings with teenage boys that his statement was the highest form of praise. “Sick” was the new “Awesome.”

  “Thank you. So the hair is okay?”

  “It’s better than okay.”

  “I’m glad you approve. Now, go have some fun.”

  Colt smiled widely again and went back to warming up. Stephanie turned to take her seat with the others, who were all still standing.

  Her mother said, “Honey, you look gorgeous. Randy, I applaud your efforts.”

  Randy took a bow. “Thank you. It was a tough job, but someone had to do it.”

  Stephanie looked at PJ who had remained quiet, so far. “PJ, what do you think?”

  PJ held up her hand. “Steph. I didn’t think you could get much hotter, but da-yam.”

  “Thank you, now would you all sit down. We’re causing a scene,” Stephanie said, taking her seat.

  PJ sat next to Stephanie. She leaned over and said, “I tried to call you earlier.”

  Stephanie watched Colt take leftfield, his normal position when he wasn’t pitching. Without looking away, she answered PJ, “I turned off my phone. Sorry, was it important?”

  “No, not really, I guess. Mo was just concerned that she had not heard from you. I told her I would call you.”

  “That’s the very reason my phone is off. I’d rather not deal with her right now.” Stephanie paused, and then faced PJ. “I know you are in an awkward situation, but I would appreciate it if you would politely decline to be her messenger.”

  PJ snorted. “Honey, I don’t intend to get in the middle of this fight. I told Mo that and now I’m telling you.”

  Stephanie soothed PJ’s ruffled feathers with a pat on the knee. “Thank you for being such a good friend to both of us.” She tried to lighten the mood with a laugh. “I’ll have to fight for visitation rights in the divorce.”

  PJ’s countenance darkened. The joke had not landed well. PJ leaned closer, so they could talk quietly.

  “So, you’ve made up your mind?”

  Stephanie shook the bangs from her forehead. She wasn’t accustomed to the hair brushing against her skin. She refocused on Colt in the field.

  “No, I haven’t made any decisions, though I have come to one realization. If I can’t forgive her, there really is no need to continue this marriage.”

  Intuitive as ever, PJ commented, “And at this point you don’t think you can forgive her?”

  The umpire yelled, “Play ball!”

  Stephanie answered PJ with only one word, “No.”

  #

  The game went well for Colt’s team. They were leading by five runs in the fifth inning. Colt had two hits, one a double, and he made a great diving catch in the top of the third. Stephanie remained by the chairs, hoping to avoid Marlene and the rest of the rumor mill, while the others went to the concession stand. Of course, this did not prevent Marlene from tracking her down.

  Marlene rushed at her, talking fast. “I saw you come in earlier. Your mother told me you had a spa day. If a spa will do this to you, sign me up. You look fantastic. I love your hair.”

  Stephanie smiled, but she wasn’t happy to see Marlene. Life was normal for five innings of baseball. Now, here was Marlene and trailing not far behind her was Jordan, Colt’s little blond Barbie girlfriend. Stephanie and Mo liked Jordan okay, but dared not show signs of disapproval, which would guarantee Colt liked her more. They were hoping his tastes would turn toward girls interested more in the world as a whole than being the center of their own universe.

  Mo’s comment had been, “He deserves his trophy girl. Trust me, it will be one of many.”

  This statement came from a woman who had her fair share of trophy girls before she met Stephanie. Mo dated and bedded many women, beginning in her teens. Stephanie was hoping Colt would wait a bit before becoming sexually active, but she wasn’t naïve. They both talked to him. She was sure her conversation with Colt had been more about love and commitment than Mo’s. Randy had taken Colt to the drug store for a lesson in condoms and safe sex. Between the three of them, Stephanie hoped they covered all the bases.

  She stood to give the hug Marlene seemed to be expecting.

  Marlene continued to gush. “Mo is going to flip when she sees you. Did you send her a picture?”

  “Thank you and no, I didn’t send a picture. I’d like it to be a surprise.” Stephanie added the last part to keep Marlene from broadcasting her picture all over Facebook. Marlene’s team pages included candid shots of the parents.

  “Oh, I would love to see the look on her face,” Marlene said, sitting down, much to Stephanie’s chagrin.

  There was no time to respond to Marlene. Jordan arrived just as Stephanie retook her seat. Jordan was a pretty girl, still growing into the heart-stopper she would be. That didn’t make up for her lack of common sense. What came out of her mouth solidified Stephanie’s assessment.

  “Oh my God! Ms. Austin, you look so much younger. My mother did the same thing when my dad left the first time, cut off all her hair.”

  Stephanie tilted her head to one side, forcing a smile. “Thank you, I think - but really, Jordan, Mo is in LA on business. I would appreciate it, and I’m sure Colt would too, if people would stop misinterpreting our private lives.”

  Jordan sat down in one of the empty chairs. Unfazed by Stephanie’s words, she continued, “I know. Can you believe it? As soon as I got here, I heard about Mo’s stuff being boxed up and put out on the curb. Some people need to get a life.”

  Stephanie turned to glare at the shrinking Marlene. “Yes, people do need to get lives.”

  She was saved from any further conversation with Marlene and Jordan by the arrival of the chairs’ rightful owners. After quick goodbyes, Marlene and Jordan returned to the stands. PJ handed Stephanie a bottle of water and a bag of popcorn.

  “Thanks for the rescue,” Stephanie said.

  “Your mom sent her this way, because she was going off by the concession stand about how sad it was to see you putting Mo’s stuff on the curb.”

  “I did not put Mo’s stuff on the curb. The boxes were in my garage.”

  PJ raised an eyebrow. “So, you did pack up Mo’s things.”

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake. I used some old boxes from the move when I cleaned out my closet last night. The boxes were labeled ‘Mo’s stuff’ on the outside, but that is not what was in them.”

  PJ seemed relieved. She chuckled and said, “That’s how rumors get started. All it takes is a mislabeled box and a nosey neighbor.”

  Stephanie didn’t think they were talking loudly, but her mother chimed in, “They smell blood in the water. Nothing like someone else’s troubles to take small minds off their own.”

  “Let ’em talk,” Randy said, “By the time the truth comes out, Mo cheating will be a minor offense compared to what the rumor mill can stir up.”


  Stephanie sank back in her chair. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  #

  The game ended with Colt’s team winning six to one. The boys were all going to Wyatt’s house for a pool party and sleep over since they did not have a game on Thursday. Stephanie met with Colt briefly after the game. She rushed through finding out when she should expect to see him again, gave him some money, and kissed him goodbye. She escaped to the parking lot, hurrying everyone along. At the back of the car, Stephanie hugged her mother.

  “Thanks for bringing the chairs, Mom. I think I would have died if I had to sit in the stands.”

  With a look only a woman who understood could give, her mother said, “Stephanie, running from them won’t help. Hold your head up. They prey on the weak.”

  Stephanie chuckled. “At this rate, they’ll be picking my bones clean by the end of the week.”

  “Randy tells me you are going to a gallery opening tomorrow night. I’ll pick up Colt tomorrow afternoon. I need some grandson time before he’s too old to spend a night with me. I’ll bring him to the game on Friday.” She climbed into her car. “You need to blow off some steam, so I suggest you have some fun.”

  “Thanks, Mom. I love you.”

  A huge sigh of relief filled the air when Stephanie sat down in the passenger seat of Randy’s car.

  He looked at her. “So, where to?”

  “I really just want to go home.”

  #

  Stephanie was quiet most of the way. She stared out the window as they drove through her neighborhood. This part of the drive always gave her peace. The closer she was to home and the people she loved the calmer her spirit would become. Now, it simply reminded her of the troubles that waited for her there. A new haircut couldn’t change the fact that her life was in turmoil and the future rested on a decision she had no idea how to make.

  Randy was not quiet. He babbled on about the gallery opening and his plans for tomorrow. “… and after breakfast, we have a ten a.m. appointment at The Boutique.”

  “That’s a bit out of my price range, don’t you think,” Stephanie said.

  “You can afford a nice dress.”

  “Nice, yes, but from an exclusive boutique, no. We’re comfortable, Randy, not rich.”

  “I was going to let Mo tell you, but since you’re not speaking to her at the moment, we heard from the agency lawyers. Mo gets to keep all of the money from her current studio contract, no percentage taken out for the home-wrecker. She is out of her contract with said bitch and was offered a fifty thousand dollar settlement for any suffering she may have endured. All with the caveat that she never reveals what happened. I think we could get more, but you probably want this over with. I am proposing that part of that settlement is for your suffering and silence, as well.” Randy smiled and patted Stephanie’s knee. “Honey, you earned a designer dress.”

  “And new shoes,” Stephanie said, grinning.

  “That’s my girl!”

  #

  Stephanie walked through the dining room, after changing into more comfortable sweats and a tee shirt upstairs. The new paint brightened the room, the stains no longer visible on the wall. Stephanie closed the windows George left open a few inches. The fumes had almost dissipated. The closed rose buds in the arrangement on the table had begun to open. The scent of drying paint mingled with the fragrance of the blooms. Stephanie gave them no more than a passing glance.

  The screen on the kitchen phone handset read, “16 Missed Calls,” and “5 Messages.” Stephanie only glimpsed it, as she made her way to the refrigerator for a bottle of water. She stopped on the way back out of the kitchen to check the missed calls, in case one of them was Colt. Four calls were from unavailable numbers, probably the usual solicitations. The other twelve were Mo. Stephanie hung the phone back in the cradle, not bothering with the messages. She had the whole night to herself. Why start off listening to Mo whine, because Stephanie wouldn’t talk to her?

  Not talking to Mo had become easier as the day wore on. Stephanie went into the office to retrieve her laptop. Just as she was leaving the office, the phone rang. She looked at the receiver and saw Colt’s name flashing, so she answered it.

  “Hey, honey. Is everything all right?”

  “Yeah, everything is fine. I just wanted to check on you. Mo called. PJ sent pics from the game. We talked about the game and then she said she couldn’t get up with you. I tried your cell. Is it still off?”

  “I forgot to turn it back on. I’ll do that in a minute. Are you having fun?”

  “Yes, we’re playing pool basketball.”

  “Well, be careful honey and enjoy yourself. I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon, all right?”

  “Grandma called and said I was going to her house tomorrow night. Are you going out?”

  “Yes, Randy and I are going to an art gallery opening. I’ll be shopping in the morning, but I’ll have my phone on, if you need me. I’ll pick you up at Wyatt’s after lunch. I’m sure you boys won’t be up much before that.”

  “That’s cool,” Colt said, and then Stephanie heard voices shouting for Colt to get back in the pool.

  “I guess you need to get back to the game. Love you, sweetie. Have a good night.”

  Colt responded, “You have a good night, too.” He paused and added, “Hey, call Mo. She’s worried about you.”

  “Okay, honey. I will. Good night.”

  Stephanie hung up the phone. Leave it to Mo to use their son to get to her. This made Stephanie even angrier. She found her cellphone and turned it on. Once it was up and running she called Mo. After four rings, she started to hang up, but then a female voice came on the line.

  “Mo Hunt’s phone.”

  Stephanie could hear loud music in the background. She hesitated and then said, “May I speak with Mo, please?”

  The voice answered, “She’s just stepped away. I can go get her or would you rather leave a message?”

  Who was this woman and why did she have Mo’s phone? The anger swelled into Stephanie’s throat in the form of bile. It burned and fueled her growing ire. She spat out the words without thinking.

  “Yes, you can tell her that her soon to be ex-wife called.”

  Stephanie hit the “End Call” button on the phone and slammed it down on the desk. Here she was agonizing over their future and Mo was out at some club.

  “That’s it! Fuck you, Mo!”

  Stephanie began her exit strategy at that moment. She was going to make Mo pay for this, one way or another. She looked at Mo’s desk.

  “What other secrets have you been keeping, I wonder?”

  In the seventeen years they had been together, Stephanie never once snooped around in Mo’s business. Times were different and this was war, as far as Stephanie was concerned. She fired up the desktop computer and pulled one of the drawers out of Mo’s desk. She dumped the entire contents on the floor. That was so rewarding, she pulled out all the drawers and dumped them on the floor, enjoying it immensely, and then she dug in. She found receipts and read each one, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Stephanie found nothing she didn’t already know about. Maybe Mo was too smart to bring any incriminating evidence home.

  One folder spilled its contents into the pile. She picked it up, reading the label aloud, “CYA. Oh, now this might be fruitful, the cover your ass folder.”

  Stephanie began picking up the things that fell out of the folder. There were cards and notes from women, all addressed to Mo. Mo’s handwritten notes were on each item. She picked up a slip of paper and read it.

  Dr. Hunt,

  I was hoping to take you out for coffee so that we could discuss my project. If you would rather do dinner, or anything else, please let me know.

  Emily

  Mo had written:

  Gave copy to dean, 9/19/03. Discussed student’s continuing obsession, inappropriate comments and behavior. Dean called student in. Hope she gets through to her.

  Stephanie remembered Emily. How cou
ld she forget “The Stalker?” This young woman had followed Mo to their house. She would sit down the street and just watch. It was really creepy. Stephanie remembered now, how she and Randy made Mo document everything. The CYA folder had been Randy’s idea. Because Mo was a lesbian, she had to be very careful around the young women she worked with. A false accusation was as damaging as a true one. After that, it seemed Mo kept records of any interactions that she felt might become a problem. The folder had appeared promising for evidence of infidelity, but turned out to be just the opposite.

  Two hours into the search through the pile and no smoking gun. Her cell and the house phone rang several times, but she ignored it when she saw Mo’s name on the caller ID. Stephanie turned to the computer. She logged on using Mo’s password. She knew it, because Mo was always calling to have Stephanie send something she’d forgotten to download on her flash drive. The first place she went was Mo’s email account. Stephanie scoured every folder and saved message. There were only a few questionable ones from Michaela, but only if Stephanie read between the lines. Not good enough to nail Mo for anything.

  She opened the “My Documents” folder. She scanned the titles. One file name stood out, “She’ll Ruin Everything.” Stephanie clicked the folder open and found only one document. She opened it and read.

  "She still loved her. Even while the keycard sliced through the lock on the hotel room door, she was not far from her thoughts. As she pulled the other woman into the room behind her, she was consumed by guilt. When she unzipped the woman's black dress and let it fall to the floor, she wished she were somewhere else. But then she knew she would end up back at this same place. Sex with this woman was wild and out of control. That's all it was, just sex; unfettered by relationships and emotions, hot, sweaty sex. She needed that the first time it happened. She had an itch and she scratched it. She regretted ever meeting the woman now standing in the puddle made by the black dress at her feet, but she kept coming back, because if she didn't this woman would ruin everything."