The Breakup Mix

by Carter, TK

  “Dad’s going to teach me to play guitar when my hands get bigger,” Gibson said.

  “You could probably start now with a smaller guitar.”

  “That’s what I said, but he said I have to grow up more first.”

  “Well, I’ll talk to your daddy about that. I think it would be great for you guys to learn to play. I bet it would be fun for Daddy, too.”

  Brandon came in the door. “What would be fun for Daddy?”

  “Teaching the boys to play guitar,” I said and held my breath while waiting for him to say something stupid.

  “Gibson needs to get a little bigger. Martin could start, though.” He looked at his middle child. “Do you have any interest in it?”

  Martin shrugged and tried not to smile. “Sure, that’s cool.”

  Brandon tossed his keys into the basket on the table and mumbled, “Okay, we’ll work on it.” He took a six-pack of beer to the refrigerator and popped the top of one before sitting in his chair and taking a drink. “What are we watching?”

  “The Voice,” I said. “Have you ever watched it?”

  “Nah, these shows don’t hold much interest for me since I actually know what it’s like to get up and perform in front of people.”

  I studied his face as he stared at the television and wondered how this man could be the same man that just humiliated me in front of my children and now sat casually talking to all of us like we were one big happy family.

  Martin asked, “Why don’t you do it, now, Dad?”

  Brandon scoffed. “Because I got married and started a family, kiddo. Can’t chase your dreams while other people are counting on you.” He glared at me. “Right, Michelle?”

  I pulled my arm away from Martin and leaned forward. “Oh, I don’t know, Brandon. Sometimes people make sacrifices for people because they love them and want to do whatever it takes to make them happy.”

  Gibson asked, “Mom, what’s your dream?”

  I stared at him. “Well, I don’t know; I’ve never really given it much thought. I always wanted to be a mom and wife to your father.”

  Martin asked, “But you never had something you wanted to try?”

  I shook my head and felt my stomach rolling. “No, bud, I’ve never really had anything I was good enough at to think about chasing a different dream.”

  “Well, you’re a great mom, so maybe your dream did come true.”

  Tears sprung to my eyes while fear gripped my heart. Is this really the sum total of my life? I stared at the television and watched the next nervous contestant backstage shaking her hands and taking deep breaths in preparation for two minutes that may completely change the course of her life. One shot to impress four people who would have a say over her next big decision. All it took was one person’s approval, and her dream would become a reality overnight. One person to just believe in her ability enough to catapult her into the next big thing. I caught myself holding my breath as she walked on stage and waited for the music to begin. She represented me in that moment; I didn’t know what my dream was, but she held it firmly in her hand as she lifted the microphone to her mouth and sang for my life.

  Every person in my living room leaned forward and watched the faces of the judges as she sang behind them with all she had. Sweat formed in my palms as a cloud of disappointment flickered in her eyes; the transformation in her face left tears pricking in my eyes as she rolled into a flawless chorus that ignited the crowd’s excitement, yet none of the judges had reached for their button. She caressed the moment and microphone and finished with a breathtaking note that had tears swelling in my eyes. I heard Martin whisper, “Push the button, someone.”

  The song ended and both my heart and hers cracked with the realization that no matter how hard you try or how good you are, sometimes you just don’t get the break you deserve. I slumped back against the couch and waited to hear the weak excuses offered by the judges. “Too forced . . . tried too hard . . . keep working and next year bring more of yourself and less of the original.” She held herself together until she got backstage and wept with disappointment while her supportive family consoled her.

  Brandon said, “Damn, that’s a shame; she was really good.”

  “Right,” I whispered as I stood and headed to the bathroom to collect myself. It was completely ridiculous for me to hinge my personal fate on the performance of a Hollywood hopeful, but the immediate parallel wasn’t lost on me.

  And, I still had to go face my fourth judge—Del Ray.

  I splashed my face with cold water and took a few deep breaths before knocking on her door.

  “Yeah,” she mumbled.

  “Can I come in?”

  I heard shuffling then the door opened followed by her returning to her bed. I looked around the disaster of living space my oldest child preferred over the rest of the house and decided now wasn’t the time to discuss the need for cleanliness. I sat on her bed and smoothed the black comforter beside me.

  “So, I guess we probably need to talk about a few things,” I said.

  She sniffled. “I didn’t know you lost your job today.”

  I shrugged. “No one did. I had a really bad day.” My voice cracked as my throat pinched with brewing tears. “You’re going to have to give your mom some grace, kiddo. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but it’s important for you to know it has nothing to do with you and your brothers, or even your dad for that matter. I’m having this weird, ‘what’s my purpose’ thing going on lately, and I feel just so completely lost.” I wiped the tears streaming down my face and wondered if I would regret sharing this information with my daughter. She’s just enough like her father that it could be used against me at the worst time. “I’m worried that you’re going to fall into this teenage misery thinking your mom is going off the deep end and it’s all your fault.”

  “Do you really hate your life?” she whispered.

  I felt the crack in my heart and was certain she heard it. “No, baby. I don’t hate my life. I guess you heard my conversation with your father earlier.”

  She leveled her eyes at me. “My room is right across the hall from yours. I hear way more than I ever wanted to. Why do you think I always keep my music up?”

  “Good to know. I’ll start taking him to the garage when I want to talk to him . . . or maybe you should start sleeping in the garage.” I winked.

  She smiled. “You’re good at way more than you think you are, Mom. You’re not just a cook. Don’t let him do that to you again.”

  My allegiance with Del Ray was strengthening, but I wondered at what cost to her father and the relationships she would form with men in the future. I closed my eyes and silently prayed that I wasn’t fucking up my children during this crisis of mine.

  “Thank you, baby. I’m sorry I came down so hard on you about going to your friend’s house Friday. I was angry for so many reasons and took it out on you. That being said, you have no right to come at me like you do when you’re pissed. Now, you get it honest, because you’re so much like me it’s not even funny. But you need to remember that this chaotic mess of a human sitting on your bed is a human with human feelings and an ethereal love for you.”

  She cocked her head to the side. “Have you ever considered writing, Mom?”

  Her question caught me off guard. “Why would I consider writing? I barely got C’s in every class I took in high school.”

  She sat up. “Seriously. Did you hear what you just said? It was pretty. You come up with some funny stuff when you’re talking. Maybe you should think about writing—maybe that could be your new hobby.”

  I laughed. “Honey, the last thing people want to hear is the ranting of a middle-aged woman with no experience outside of raising a family and working at a daycare.”

  She shrugged. “It might not hurt, though. You bought me a journal a few years ago, and I wrote in it all the time. I still do, actually. I could use a new one, hint hint.”

  I chuckled. “Well, we’ll see about that. Chr
istmas is coming up, so you better start making a list.”

  She sat back against the wall. “Look on the bright side. Since you lost your job, you’ll have a chance to work out while we’re all at school and Dad’s at work.”

  “Are you still fourteen? These are conversations I would have with my friends.”

  She smirked. “I have friends too, ya know. And I think you met your friends when you were my age, so just think about what you talked about, and it’s probably nearly the same.”

  Oh, God, I hope not. At fourteen, we were talking about boys non-stop and the ridiculous drama going on at home. I can only imagine what her friends know about our family—maybe I’m better off not knowing. I’ll never forget the first time Alissa finally told us about her living situation and how we were all baffled that this larger-than-life creature had been responsible for her sisters from a very young age. The rest of us had fairly normal home lives, so it was completely foreign to us. I stared at Del Ray and wondered which, if any, of her friends were stuck in the same situation, and if Del Ray was the adult voice of reason to her friends that I was hearing right now.

  I had a pang of shame for the way I’d been judging my eccentric multi-colored hair, black-and-flannel wearing teenage daughter. There was a shift in the way I saw her, and as a result of that, there was a shift in the way I saw myself.

  I leaned over to hug her. “You’re a good friend, Del Ray. I love you.”

  “I love you, too, Mom. I don’t have to go to Kara’s Friday. Maybe we could dye your hair instead.”

  I slid my headband out of my hair and ran my fingers through it. “Think so? Maybe I could go auburn. I’ve got the skin tone and eye color to pull it off.”

  She grinned. “I was thinking something more dramatic.”

  I laughed. “Of course you were. You’re a mess. Nah, go to your friend’s house, but do me a favor, okay? Don’t make me out to be the complete psycho I’ve become.”

  She giggled. “You’re not a psycho.”

  I eyed her hair. “You’re much braver than me. I could never do something like that to my hair.”

  She shrugged. “I just don’t want to look like everyone else.”

  “That’s your daddy coming out in you. I always preferred to blend in. Come see me before you go to bed. Is all your homework done?”

  She slapped the top of a book lying beside her. “I’m working on it now.”

  “Okay, baby. Thanks for the chat.”

  I wandered into my bedroom and made a mental note to spend more time with Del Ray in her bedroom. I felt more normal in those few moments than I’d felt in weeks. I felt like life had rewound and I was sitting on Katie’s bed watching her trim her nails after softball practice all over again. It made me long for my friend.

  I walked down the hallway and leaned over Brandon. “I’m stepping out for a minute.”

  “Where you going, now?”

  “Nowhere—just going to step out and call Katie.”

  He waved. “Sure, that’s cool.”

  “I see you’re still watching The Voice,” I teased.

  He smirked. “The boys are really into it. I’m just along for the ride.”

  Martin said, “Oh whatever, Dad. You were really into it a minute ago.”

  I marveled at the change in the house altogether in just a short amount of time. Or was this really what life was like when I wasn’t stuck in my own anger?

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  I Can’t Make You Love Me

  Chance

  The prickles of excitement and nerves danced through my body as I walked into the ballroom and scanned the crowd. The best of broadcast was represented in the room, and while it would have been in my best interest to rub elbows with other journalists and news anchors, I only wanted to see Tony. My crew split for the bar and left me standing near the entrance. Eddie was concerned I was going to cock-block him, so we’d prearranged for him to walk in separately and start the scouting process. I eyed the placards and realized we had assigned seats, so I wandered through the room until I found my table near the far corner. The center of the room had been reserved for speakers and a dance floor; it appeared to be the typical media event. I slipped my napkin onto my plate to indicate I’d seen my place and greeted my peers as I made my way to the bar.

  I saw him out of the corner of my eye. Correction: I saw her first—dressed to perfection in an elegant green dress that formed her body as though it shot out of the womb with her. The diamonds from her necklace dripped onto her breasts and twinkled with elation at their lucky placement. Her long, red hair flowed down her back and shimmered even in the low lighting; she oozed feminine perfection, and it gave me great delight to imagine that she’s had a terrible case of diarrhea at least once in her life. She and Tony were engaged in a semi-serious conversation with another news anchor from the St. Louis area. When she touched Tony’s arm and laughed, every nerve ending in my body lit up. Tony chuckled, but the smile did not reach his eyes.

  He glanced my way and did a double take. He faked stumbling backward and slid his hand over his heart before he excused himself from the conversation and walked toward me. As much as I wanted to look away and fake disinterest, I couldn’t take my eyes off him as he excused his way through the mingling crowd. He certainly knows how to wear a tuxedo. The air in the room charged with the magnetic attraction between us and I had no idea if I was even still breathing or not. I’m pretty sure the lack of oxygen had killed the butterflies in my stomach but I feared I would be its next victim. I wished I had stayed nearer my table to steady myself then remembered my mission tonight. I took a deep breath and took a step toward him.

  “Good God, Chance Bradley, you are a vision of excellence in that red dress.” He grabbed my hands and leaned in to kiss me on the cheek. He whispered, “You’re stunning, as usual.”

  I grinned. “You too, Tony.”

  He pulled away from me and examined every inch of my body. “Just give me a second to memorize how you look tonight. That dress was made for you, lovely lady.”

  I blushed, much to my dismay, then smiled. “Oh how you go on.”

  “Don’t play coy, Chance. You’re the most beautiful woman here. The rest of them are wishing they’d stayed home now.”

  “Well, I’m confident there’s at least one other woman here that would beg to differ with you.”

  He tilted his head toward Miriam. “She’s a B movie extra compared to what I’m staring at right now.”

  I shook my head and laughed. “Do you know where you’re sitting tonight?”

  “I do, now. If you think I’m leaving your side for the evening, you’re out of your mind. I’m not going to let one man in this room think you’re available.”

  “Jesus, do you think it would be better if you just peed on my leg and got it over with?”

  Tony chuckled. “If I thought it would work, I would have done it already. Actually, I’ve already asked to move next to you.” He put his fingers to his lips. “Shh, don’t tell. Sometimes it’s fun to have pull around here.”

  I stared at him and wondered whatever possessed me to let this man go. He looked at me with an intensity that threatened to melt my makeup (and panties) right off my body. I took a deep breath and prayed my zipper would hold if my heart swelled much more. “Shall we get a drink or just stand here staring at each other?”

  He shook his head. “Sorry, I’m entranced. After you, dear lady.”

  “I see some new faces around here tonight. You might have to help me with some of the names.”

  He slipped his hand into mine and navigated us through the crowd at the bar. The touch of his hand made my soul sigh and throat tighten with memories of how much I’d missed the gentle sweetness that embodied all that Tony is. He ordered our drinks and steered us to an area unoccupied by the rest of the gala attendees. He handed me my drink and his eyes registered the same emotions I was fighting inside.

  “Here’s to new beginnings, Chance Bradley.”

&
nbsp; I tapped his glass with mine and whispered, “To new beginnings.”

  “I’ll be honest, Chance, this has been the longest year of my life.”

  “Do you really think this is the place to discuss this, Tony?” I asked as I dabbed my eye with my pinky to prevent a tear from escaping.

  He smiled. “No, probably not. I’m just so happy you’re here tonight. I can’t tell you how much I’ve missed you.”

  Miriam waltzed up and purred, “You must be Chance Bradley.” She extended her hand. “I’m Miriam O’Bannon, Tony’s girlfriend.”

  I know the shock of her words were intended to rock me and it worked. I painted on my best smile and shook her hand. “I’m Chance Bradley—anchor: KJAT; it’s a pleasure to meet you.” I glanced at Tony. “Perhaps I misunderstood your toast.” I saw Eddie standing a several feet away and faked communication with him. “Sorry, if you will excuse me, I think Eddie needs to talk to me.”

  Girlfriend. His girlfriend. She’s his fucking girlfriend. He’s got a girlfriend. He’s moved on. I reached for Eddie and whispered, “Get me out of here.”

  Eddie took his cue to escort me to the hallway and wrapped his arm around my waist. “Almost there,” he mumbled.

  I made it to the bathroom, handed him my drink and asked, “Will you wait for me, please? I’ll explain later, but please . . . just wait here.”

  He gestured toward the bathroom door. “I’ll be right here. Go do what you gotta do.”

  I slid past a few ladies primping at the mirror and broke my own rule of never using the handicap bathroom stall, but I needed to pace or throw up; I wasn’t sure which it was at the moment. I knew crying was out of the question, because I’m an ugly crier, and it takes me an hour to get my face back to normal color. Plus, my makeup looked fantastic and I wasn’t about to ruin a great face on the misleading behavior of someone I dumped over a year ago.

  Girlfriend. Nothing made sense—none of the things he’d said, his underhanded way of getting me to St. Louis, the way his face lit up when he saw me, all of the charming things he didn’t have to say . . . what was his fucking game, and why was I suddenly the unsuspecting pawn? I contemplated calling Alissa to come rescue me from this burning inferno of my crash-and-burn. By the time I’d finished pacing, the bathroom had cleared out, so I moved to the mirror and stared at the eyes that an hour earlier had glimmered with new life but now looked back at me with the same hollow way they’d looked for over a year.