The Goodbye Year

by Kaira Rouda

  When other surgeons at his country club asked why he was so willing to travel, what with the kid and a wife and all, Jud simply explained his wanderlust. He’d grown up in a small, repressive, rusting town in northern Pennsylvania. Vacations were spent, if he was lucky, visiting the filthy shores of Lake Erie. He hadn’t left the state at all until he went to college. All of this was true, satisfied his peers, and for the most part, satisfied his wife and child. He had thought that the older Ashley grew, the more she’d resent his travel. But by now, it was routine, the rhythm of their particular household.

  Even with all of the travel, he needed to feel like he had a family to come home to, and for some reason it was harder to feel a connection with Ashley and Sarah these days. Since Ashley had started high school, Jud’s only child had blossomed into an adult, a beautiful mystery living in his Architectural Digest-featured house. Sarah assured Jud it was just a phase, all the while enjoying what seemed to be a normal and close relationship with her. Jud had pretty much given up on anything but shopping excursions. She still said yes to those.

  As for Sarah, he knew they needed to spend some quality time together. He pulled out his iPhone again and texted Tom: Please plan a date night with Sarah for me. That was one thing his assistant didn’t like helping with, he knew, imagining the grimace on his face. But too bad. That was part of the job, part of Jud’s life, too.

  He walked into the kitchen and smiled at his privileged daughter sitting at the huge honed-marble island, devouring the full breakfast Sarah had made for both of them this morning, like every morning. Fresh-squeezed orange juice, organic local eggs, whole-grain toast, and vegetarian sausage. Jud just kept quiet about his family’s vegetarian conversion, eating all the meat he wanted on his trips. He gave Sarah a peck on the cheek and then poured himself a glass of juice.

  “Did Mom tell you about her accident?” Jud said, earning an angry look, he thought, from Sarah.

  “It’s nothing, a fender bender,” Sarah said.

  “Are you hurt, Mom?” Ashley asked. “You should have told me last night. I knew you were acting weird.”

  “I’m fine. Nothing injured but my pride, and my spotless driving record,” Sarah said.

  “Hey, Dad, I wish you were going to be here for my game,” Ashley said, giving him a look that stabbed him in the heart and reminded him of how neglected he had felt around his own dad. Jud shook his head to erase the image.

  “I’m sorry, honey. At least I made it to Parents’ Night, right?” Jud said, smiling brightly as Ashley’s face fell. Parenting was tricky, Jud knew, that’s why he tried to do as little of it as possible. She was much better off being raised almost entirely by her mother. Jud did believe his wife was almost perfect as a mother.

  “Have a seat, I’ll bring you a plate,” Sarah said from behind the island. Her hair was pulled into a low ponytail. Jud preferred it down, but at least it was tidy. She was dressed in a white tennis outfit accentuating her toned legs and her perfect breasts, if he did say so himself. Of course, with his insistence, she only played indoor tennis, driving to a club forty-five minutes away. But it was worth it, he always reminded her. Too much sunshine in Orange County for an outdoor league, he’d insisted.

  “You’re also missing the final tennis season party,” Sarah said, placing a plate with steaming, perfectly cooked eggs, dry toast, and a slice of avocado in front of him. “I know you’re sad about that.”

  “Ha, well, that may be why I said yes to this speech,” Jud said, popping a bite into his mouth. He looked at his girls and smiled. Everything was as it should be. Outside, through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the kitchen, the sun sparkled on the ocean waves in agreement.

  “You’ve managed to miss it every year since we moved to Crystal Beach,” Sarah said, her eyes looking sad even though she was smiling. Jud saw her rub the back of her neck. “I might go this year, on my own. Wendy asked me to be her date, since she needs one.”

  “Well, she does, that’s for sure. For what, the next six years to life?” Jud said, and then caught himself before he said anything more.

  “Ashley, you need to get going,” Sarah said.

  “So it’s true Mr. Snyder is going to prison?” Ashley asked, her big blue eyes wide, unblinking.

  “Ashley, nobody knows yet, but most likely,” Sarah said. Jud recognized the sharp tone in her voice as the end the subject.

  “Bye, Dad. Have a good trip,” Ashley said, kissing his cheek. “Don’t get into trouble like Mr. Snyder did.”

  Jud smiled at his daughter as she left the room. He wasn’t perfect, but at least he wasn’t going to prison, that was something.

  “You should try to spend some time with her,” Sarah said from the kitchen. Jud had walked to the doorway, hoping, he realized, for another wave from his daughter.

  “I will,” Jud said, turning to face his wife. “I’ll try to cancel the trip to Belize. I can reschedule, probably.” Jud picked up the coffee mug after Sarah finished pouring a fresh cup for him.

  “That would be nice,” Sarah said, walking past him and around to the other side of the island to begin clearing the breakfast dishes. Jud settled onto a barstool and watched her at work, pushing leftover food onto his plate, clearing Ashley’s in the process, and then stacking them together, his plate the holder of all the uneaten scraps. His parents wouldn’t have let any of that food go to waste. He would have had to shove the food in his mouth, choke it down, or else. He blinked.

  “It would be good for you to be here for Ashley’s homecoming dance. I’m sure she will go with Blake. She may even be named homecoming queen. We could make it a special evening, host the pre-party,” Sarah said, passing by him again, rounding the long kitchen island headed for the sink. She dropped the plates into the large stainless steel basin and turned to face him, wiping her hands on her tennis skirt, a move that caused Jud to bristle.

  “Email me the date of the dance, copy Tom, and I’ll see what I can do,” Jud said, standing and stretching. “It’s a gorgeous day to fly. I hope you have equally enjoyable plans.”

  “Oh yes, my life is just as glamorous as yours, you know with grocery shopping, keeping track of Ashley,” Sarah said. “You know she might still pick Stanford. She hasn’t fully committed to Harvard.” Her face was neutral, eyes bright, and despite the lack of makeup, she looked fresh. Perhaps it was the coffee, he thought, or more likely, the brow lift he’d performed two years prior.

  Her life sounded miserable but she seemed to enjoy every moment of it. He knew she did. She told him it was her duty, and he agreed. “Thank you for holding down the fort,” he said, touching her shoulder. It was surprisingly small, narrow even. He drew her to him in their usual good-bye hug. “Have a great week, Sarah.”

  “Thank you. You, too, Jud,” she said as he pulled away from her.

  “I’ll bring you something special from Paris,” he said, picking up his suitcase and pausing before he walked out of the kitchen. “Anything you’d like?”

  “Just you,” she answered.

  Jud smiled and walked out of the kitchen. The car and driver would be waiting in the driveway. He’d received notification on his phone that the black town car had driven in through the gate of the community. Gated community. Despite his outward bravado, a tiny part of him never had grown accustomed to the status it implied. Or to the social magnification it provided. His home, while spectacular, meant they were on display always from the beach below and from the street in front. All sides, really. He pushed down the lump in his throat. Unfortunately, especially lately, whenever he thought of how far he’d come, the reality of where he had come from pulled on him, like a boulder tied to his ankles.

  Jud imagined what would happen if his father saw all of this. He never would, Jud assured himself. He’d put his dad’s name on the permanently barred list at the main gate. He realized the man would never venture out of the small town in Pennsylvania, but if he ever did, ever tried to find his son, he’d be stopped at the gate. Jud wa
s safe inside, he told himself, more often than he admitted to himself.

  The doorbell rang, shaking him out of the past. As much as he treasured the security of his home, travel was freedom from past and present. And today’s escape was just outside his sleek glass and stainless steel front door. He picked up his briefcase and walked outside into the brutal, aging sunshine, calming himself by remembering he’d applied ample sunscreen.

  MELANIE

  The PTA meeting had never started on time.

  Melanie knew this for a fact but insisted on arriving ten minutes early every month to secure her front-row seat and, predictably, became incensed as the minutes ticked past 9 a.m. She wasn’t needed at the meeting, of course. She was no longer an officer or chairing any committees. But still, she attended. As always, she would complain about the tardy start of the meeting to Keith during dinner this evening, and he would again remind her not to expect punctuality where none has ever existed, while politely changing the subject. She would pour herself a second glass of wine, and Dane would shoot her the look.

  “Now there’s a woman who should have had six kids, or a full-time, demanding job. She’s completely crazy and it’s all focused on Reed,” Lynne Bishop said, nudging Melanie’s thigh with her hand while smiling at the thin redhead who rushed in the door. Beatrice was dressed as if she were litigating an important case—a gorgeous tan dress, impressive heels, full makeup, bursting with important gold bangles and earrings. This must be the highlight of Beatrice’s week, Melanie thought, a smirk forming on her lips.

  Is it mine, too? That thought wiped the smirk away. Lynne was talking again, Melanie realized. While Parents’ Night for Dane had stressed her out, she still had stature in the PTA thanks to his brother’s achievements, thank goodness.

  “Her poor kid won’t be able to function past high school,” Lynne said in her quiet but edgy tone of voice. She had become Melanie’s best friend and confidante. Truth be told, Lynne was her only friend in town. “He barely knows how to dress himself, at least that’s what Jill tells me. He’s never done a load of laundry or cooked a meal. It’s sad. She’ll have to go to college with him, helicopter in each morning.”

  Melanie smiled at the thought of Beatrice and her gold jewelry airborne, a propeller attached to her head. Lynne and Melanie were seated next to each other in the front row of folding chairs arranged in rows of four, eight rows deep, inside the cozy school library. They had the highest status in the group, as parents of seniors, and Lynne, a former PTA president, was Melanie’s ticket to the front row. Lynne had the highest rank, given Jill’s social standing. She wasn’t as important as Sarah Nelson, but almost. Melanie remembered those days with Seth. Thankfully the other women remembered the reflected glory of Seth, not the dimmed sheen of Dane. They should provide us with sashes and tiaras, Melanie thought, smiling.

  Or, at the very least, start the meeting on time, she thought, checking her Cartier watch.

  “Is your car back from the shop?” Lynne asked.

  “Oh, yep, good as new. Sarah Nelson paid for the whole thing. Why fight it?”

  “Yes, she has the money to do whatever she wants for us little minions,” Lynne said.

  Just then, Sarah Nelson herself arrived. She looked pastier than normal, and she had circles under her eyes. Even though she looked a bit off, her enviable legs stretched forever from under her tennis outfit, almost compensating for the dark circles and lack of color on her face. Melanie noticed she was clenching and unclenching her hands. She wasn’t even attempting her awkward tight smile.

  “She looks awful,” Lynne whispered as Sarah took a seat at the opposite end of their row, ignoring Lynne’s hand-motion invitation to join them. Melanie knew they had been friends since their kids were in preschool together. So, basically forever in suburban years. Much like dog years, Melanie knew most moms counted their years by kid-years, and they made and marked their friendships accordingly. Another reason Melanie was an outsider here. She had just three suburban years in this town. She was a toddler amid high school seniors. Once again, she thought about calling Keith, begging him to get his old job back in Ohio. For now, she’d remind herself to be thankful Lynne had taken pity on her and become her friend. Lynne patted her hand and stood up, walking to the other end of the row and sitting down next to Sarah. Deserted, Melanie sat alone watching the two women chat quietly. She pulled out her phone and texted Keith: “Need to move back to Ohio. ASAP.”

  The door opened again and Wendy Snyder walked in, slipping into a seat in the row just behind her. Melanie gave her a smile even though she couldn’t believe Wendy was here, showing her face in this crowd when everyone knew her husband was going to jail soon unless his attorney performed some sort of magic. In the three short years they had lived in town, Melanie had witnessed the overnight success as the Snyder Real Estate Company seemed to boom and Wendy and her family became the toast of Crystal Beach because of their sudden, explosive wealth. The guy had even appeared on a reality TV show about bosses, twice. Private air travel, houses in Hawaii and Aspen, in addition to their sprawling oceanfront home draped along a cliff, overlooking the sea. Even though they weren’t inside the gates of one of the three must-live-in gated communities, they had arrived.

  Melanie had sensed it was all too sudden, too big, too good to be true. Keith had insisted she was just jealous of Wendy’s shopping budget. Maybe she had been jealous, but she also had been right. Now, the Snyders’ vacation homes were for sale, and she wondered if they’d be forced to move inland, to give up their Crystal Beach mansion and lifestyle. She’d been watching Wendy’s Facebook feed, but, disappointedly, Wendy had acted as if everything were fine, normal even. But what would she do for money with her husband behind bars? What would Melanie do if Keith suddenly went up the river? She hoped for Wendy and her kids’ sake, her criminal husband had buried a bunch of cash in their backyard. That’s what outlaws did, she reasoned. From the photos on Facebook, their spacious lawn yielded a lot of good treasure-burying spots.

  Melanie knew she was spending too much time on Facebook lately, living vicariously. She’d kept up with her Ohio friends, of course, but she spent far too much time checking out the lives of her wealthiest friends and neighbors in Crystal Beach. It was addictive. Every morning, she also visited Seth’s page. Usually, nothing was there, unfortunately, and she suspected most of his real social media activities were on other things like Instagram and Snapchat. But she didn’t want to go there, she couldn’t trust herself. Seth had told her that if she commented on any more photos, he’d block her on Facebook. She couldn’t imagine what threats he would make over another platform, especially one she didn’t understand. Dane had taken down his Facebook page sometime last year. Melanie suspected it was because of her constant spying.

  She felt the room sway and looked up at the podium while taking a deep breath. She grabbed both sides of the plastic folding chair for support. The blonde-bobbed Mandy, this year’s president, finally had arrived and the meeting would begin. The funny thing was, as she listened to Mandy drone on about fundraising and the sober senior celebration night plans, she no longer cared. She knew she should care, she had a senior, but Dane thought the graduation party was “lame.” He already told Melanie if he was forced to go, he’d sneak out. Nothing about senior year was special to her youngest son. It was just something to get through. He was “over it.”

  “You can’t move on until you make it through,” Melanie always told him. But maybe the reality was Melanie was over it too.

  But if not this, what? she thought, looking around the library. What was next? That thought, that wonder, pushed into her consciousness again like a mother bird protecting her nest: Who will I be without a child at home to parent? The next step is my AARP card, she thought. The stupid card had arrived in the mail the week before, heralding her old age, the slip into uselessness. She’d tossed it into the trash. Why did the end of motherhood have to coincide with menopause and senior citizen status? Because that’s
what it meant, she realized.

  Melanie withstood the remainder of the meeting, but as soon as Mandy dismissed them, she bolted for the door without speaking to anyone. Somehow, Lynne caught up to her in the parking lot with Sarah Nelson by her side. It hadn’t turned out well the last time she and Sarah had run into each other here.

  “Melanie, wait,” Lynne said, as Melanie reluctantly turned to face her.

  “Mark’s out of town and I wondered if you wanted to grab dinner? Sarah is coming, too!”

  A simple enough request, Melanie thought. She could be brave, dine with the queen. It would be a first. Would Keith and Dane miss her at home? Not at all. “Sure, why not? What time?”

  “Let’s go early, say six, so I can be home by eight or so. Ashley typically graces me with her presence by then,” Sarah said. “Hapi Sushi?”

  “Yes, and good luck at the doctor. I hope you figure out what’s wrong,” Lynne said, kissing Sarah on her perfect high cheekbone and then giving Melanie a peck. Very European of her.

  “See you tonight,” Melanie said, already worrying about what she could possibly wear to dine with the queen, a little mad at Lynne for her friendly inclusivity. Damn her.