Stay At Home Dead

by Jeffrey Allen

  The donkey ears grew out in full, and I felt a tail trying to force its way out of my rear end.

  “All right,” I said. “I’m done. Message sent. Back to my regularly scheduled programming.”

  She stayed quiet for a moment, and I knew she was trying to figure out if I was serious or not.

  “Julianne,” I said. “I’m done, okay? Just got a bit weirded out. That’s all. I will consult with my attorney before making any more moves.”

  “That’s better,” she said, sounding appeased. “And don’t think I’m going to let you skate on whatever happened at school today. I’ll expect a full report when I get home. Behave yourself.” She paused. “Hey, Deuce?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Sweetie, you ever go to your old girlfriend’s again without telling me and I’ll wreck your good knee.”

  16

  My parents dropped Carly back at the house, Julianne came home from work, and we ate a quick dinner so we could go for a walk while the sun was still out. Carly strapped on her Strawberry Shortcake helmet and jumped on her Dora bike with training wheels, pedaling ahead of us as we strolled the neighborhood.

  “So,” Julianne said, squeezing my hand. “The WORMS are after you.”

  The WORMS. Women of Rettler-Mott School. They’d been too self-absorbed to recognize their own pathetic acronym when naming themselves. Unfortunately for them, Julianne spotted it immediately.

  “Yes, the WORMS are after me,” I said. “But I can handle them.”

  “I should hope so. Ladies in exercise clothes aren’t that tough.”

  Carly stopped and turned around. “Come on, guys. You’re slow.”

  “We’ll catch up,” I said.

  She shrugged, stuck her feet back on her pedals, and got going again.

  “You know you’re doing a good job with her, right?” Julianne said.

  “She’s a good kid.”

  “I know, but you’re a good dad. I’m amazed at all the things she’s picking up,” Julianne said, watching Carly pedal. “I know a lot of that is you.”

  “It’s both of us.”

  “No, it’s not,” she said. “You’re the one she spends the majority of her time with. It’d be easy for you to drop her in front of the TV every day, rather than get her outside, read to her, play with her. It makes a difference.”

  “I should probably try and negotiate a raise, then,” I said.

  Julianne snorted. “Getting to sleep with me is like getting a bonus every day. Consider yourself lucky.”

  I threw my arm around her. “Still. A little extra cash would be nice.”

  “Don’t get a fat head. You still need some work on dressing her. And she enjoys burping far too much.”

  “What’s wrong with the way I dress her?”

  “Nothing, if her name was Carl.”

  “I dress her like a girl.”

  “Jeans and a T-shirt are unisex. Dresses are girly.”

  “She doesn’t like dresses.”

  “She would if you’d put them on her once in a while.”

  “Well, it’s not my fault.”

  “Why not?”

  “You’ve never written ‘Put her in a dress today’ on a sticky note for me. How should I have known?”

  I could tell by her expression that she wanted to give me the finger, but there were too many children in the vicinity.

  We circled the block a second time as the sun dipped a little lower in the sky. Carly was complaining about being sweaty and tired, so we told her this was the last time around. By the time we reached the house, I was carrying her and Julianne was pushing the bike.

  “Who’s that man?” Carly said, pointing to our home.

  A guy in jeans and a long-sleeve oxford was standing at our front door. About my age, medium height, medium build. A military brush cut on top of his head.

  “Help you?” I called out as we came to the bottom of the walk.

  He turned around, surprised, then smiled. “Oh, I’m sorry. Didn’t know y’all were out.”

  He came down the walk, and I braced myself for whatever he was selling. Oil changes, landscaping service, religion. We got them all in our neighborhood.

  “You’re Deuce, right?” he said, a look on his face that said he thought he was right, but not certain.

  “That’s right.”

  He produced an envelope and wedged it between Carly’s body and my chest. “You’ve been served.”

  We all stood in silence, watching him walk away.

  Finally, Julianne plucked the envelope from between Carly and me and opened it.

  “Lemme guess,” I said. “Billy letting me know I’m being sued?”

  Julianne finished reading it, then shook her head. “No. It’s a restraining order.”

  “A what?”

  She read it again. “A restraining order. Filed by Shayna. Against you.”

  17

  I got Carly in the bathtub while Julianne read over the restraining order.

  “It’s vague,” she said, standing in the hallway, while I sat on the floor of the bathroom. “Doesn’t really give a reason as to why she filed it.”

  “Doesn’t it have to?” I asked.

  “No. All that matters is she got a judge to sign off on one. You can’t get within one hundred yards of her.”

  I leaned back into the wall, irritation and confusion settling into my bones. Maybe some fear, too. It made no sense. I wasn’t sure Shayna was even able to remember my visit, much less take offense to it. And she called me to begin with. What could she be so upset at that she saw fit to bar me from having any contact with her?

  “It doesn’t matter,” Julianne said, reading my expression. “You can’t go near her to find out what’s going on. We’ll figure it out, but you cannot go near her. Hear me?”

  “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

  “I know that.”

  “But now I’m the bad guy.”

  “You’re not a bad guy, Daddy,” Carly said, her eyes peeking over the tub.

  I smiled at her.

  “Look, you aren’t the bad guy, but if you wanna feel sorry for yourself and mope, be my guest,” Julianne said. “The only thing I care about is making sure your butt stays at least a football field away from her. That should honestly be a rule in our house, anyway. We don’t need a restraining order to abide by it. Understand?”

  The water made a gurgling noise, and I looked into the tub. Carly was sliding around the empty tub like a fish out of water.

  She looked up at me and smiled, her wet hair plastered to her forehead. “I let the water out.”

  “Yeah, you did. Let’s get you dried off.”

  As I toweled her off, put her pajamas on, and brushed out her hair, I racked my brain for something I might’ve missed at Shayna’s. And the only thing I could come up with was that someone was messing with me.

  And I didn’t like being messed with.

  Carly hugged Julianne good night, and I took her into her bedroom. As I read her her story, I could hear Julianne’s voice downstairs on the phone. When I finished the story, I put it back on the bookshelf and pulled the sheets up to Carly’s chin.

  “You’re a good daddy,” she said, grinning at me.

  I kissed her on the forehead. “Thanks. You’re a good kid.”

  She nodded, as if she’d heard that a million times. “I know.”

  I told her good night and turned off her light. I put away a few of her stray toys in the loft play area, made sure there were no monsters hiding in the two upstairs guest rooms, and headed downstairs to our room. Julianne was stretched out on the bed, the phone on her stomach, her eyes closed.

  “Who were you talking to?” I said.

  Her eyes opened slowly. “Hmmm?”

  “You asleep?”

  “Was.” She rubbed her eyes and sat up. “Just exhausted.”

  I walked into the bathroom, feeling guilty. Not only was she working a job that required her full attention, but now I was fo
rcing her to worry about me. If I needed a reason to back off of everything, I had it. But it was difficult to leave something alone that felt as if it had the power to upend my life.

  I brushed my teeth and joined her on the bed. Her eyes were closed again, but they opened when I hit the bed.

  “Who were you talking to?” I asked, taking the phone off her stomach.

  She sat up again and sighed. “I called Sonya Luna. She’s an attorney over in Fort Worth I know. She knows more about this stuff than I do. Told her what was going on with you.”

  The fact that she felt the need to call another attorney made the hair on my arms stand up. “You know I was kidding yesterday, when I said I needed an attorney, right?”

  “Yesterday you hadn’t been served with a restraining order.” She yawned. “Anyway, I just wanted to touch base with her. In case we need her.”

  “Why would we need her?”

  Julianne shook her head, irritated, and pushed herself off the bed and headed to the bathroom. “You know why, Deuce. I explained it to you earlier, and I’m too tired to do it again.”

  I lay in bed and stewed, alternating between anger and frustration. Anger because I really didn’t think I had done anything wrong, frustration because I was causing my wife unnecessary headaches.

  She emerged from the bathroom, face washed, teeth brushed, wearing her Longhorns shirt and shorts. She crawled under the covers and looked at me with sleepy eyes. “I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

  I clasped my hands behind my head, staring at the ceiling. “You didn’t snap. It’s all right.”

  “I just wanted to check in with her and let her know what was going on.” She yawned again and wiggled under the covers. “She’s good. If we need her.”

  I had to admit that hearing that Julianne felt the need to call another attorney worried me. I think I had chalked up Benny’s body, Billy’s visit, Shayna’s tears, and the rug store to just the usual goofiness that pulsed through Rose Petal. But I had missed entirely the seriousness of the situation and how I had made it worse. Dumb, dumb, dumb.

  “Sorry, Jules,” I said, still staring at the ceiling. “I’ve been a moron. I’ll get my act together. I didn’t mean for this to be something you had to worry about.”

  I waited for her response, but she didn’t say anything.

  I turned and looked at her.

  She wasn’t too worried, apparently.

  She was snoring right in my face.

  18

  The next day, I did what any man accused of a crime he didn’t commit would do.

  I went to the park and played in the sand.

  Carly didn’t have school, and I didn’t have anywhere I had to be. We spent the morning at the park down the street, Carly running wild on the slides and climbing walls and swings, me watching her out of one eye and catching up on some reading. She helped me clean the house in the afternoon, and then, after her nap, she assisted me in the kitchen, getting chicken tacos and a salad together for dinner, which we had on the table just as Julianne walked in the door. We had a pleasant dinner and did three laps around the block this time before calling it a night. Julianne was asleep by the time I came down from putting Carly to bed, and I crawled into bed next to her, smiling at our uneventful, normal Winters day.

  The next day, however, wasn’t so normal.

  Sharon Ann and Deborah were waiting for me outside Carly’s classroom. Sally Meadows gave me a look like she was sorry, but there wasn’t anything she could do. I signed Carly in, gave her a kiss good-bye, and walked out into the hallway to face the powerful WORMS.

  There were no fake or forced smiles this time. They were both serious, dressed in similar workout outfits. Black Lycra tights, Sharon Ann in a red tank top, Deborah in an aqua one. Serious, aerobics-doing women.

  “Have you thought about headbands?” I asked. “Olivia Newton-John made them fashionable.”

  They looked at each other, confused, missing the irony of their outfits. As usual.

  “Deuce,” Sharon Ann said, getting right to it. “There is a special meeting tomorrow night. You’ll need to be there.”

  “I’m busy,” I said. “Stevie Wonder’s coming over to show me his new hairdo.”

  “It’s in your best interest to be there,” Deborah added, ignoring me.

  “What’s the meeting about?”

  They exchanged another glance, this one nervous, their confidence eroding.

  “About you,” Sharon Ann said.

  “Me?”

  “We’ve petitioned the school and parents advisory board to have you removed from your position as Room Dad,” Sharon Ann said.

  The anger cut through my gut. “You what?”

  Sharon Ann held her ground. “Deuce. Don’t take this personally.”

  “How should I take it?” I shut my eyes, gritted my teeth, and waved my hands. “Hold on. Back up. What is your reasoning behind this little male witch hunt?”

  “We told you yesterday,” Sharon Ann said calmly. “With the cloud surrounding you, we feel it would be best if someone relieves you of your duties.”

  “Temporarily, of course,” Deborah added flatly.

  By temporarily I was pretty sure she meant permanently.

  “There is no cloud,” I said.

  They looked at each other and laughed, like I was one of the kids and I’d said something cute and silly.

  “Deuce,” Sharon Ann said. “Really. We know what’s going on. Everyone does. First, Benny’s body ...”

  “Nothing is going on,” I said through clenched teeth.

  “And now the whole stalker thing with Shayna,” she continued. “Really. We don’t think this is good for the kids.”

  “Shayna called me and told me you showed up out of nowhere,” Deborah said in a disapproving voice. “My sister tells me everything.”

  I was reaching my boiling point fast, and I needed to cool off. I was certain that screaming at them in the school hallway would not look too good.

  “First off, I’m not stalking anyone. Get that through your thick, empty heads. And the kids are finger painting and putting glue in each other’s hair,” I said. “They have no idea what’s going on.”

  “But, then, you do admit something is going on, correct?” Deborah said, smirking like she’d solved a riddle.

  Sharon Ann nodded her approval. Like they were Batman and Robin. Or Dumb and Dumber.

  I could hire a nanny. I could go back to teaching and coaching. Leave this freaking circus behind.

  Wrong. There was no way I was going to let these two fake-breasted exercise Nazis run me out of my daughter’s preschool classroom. Not now, not ever.

  “Don’t come to the meeting, then,” Sharon Ann said. “Might be easier for you to save face that way.”

  “I’ll be there,” I said. “You can count on it. No way I’m giving up my spot.”

  Deborah made a tsk-tsking sound and pursed her lips. “It could get ugly.”

  “Whatever,” I said, backing away and heading toward the parking lot. “Oh. And you wanna know something else?”

  They both straightened their posture as if they were being judged.

  “You’d both be better suited to working out in loose-fitting clothing,” I said, smiling. “Neither of you has the ass to wear tights.”

  19

  The new minivan showcased its handling as I tore out of the school parking lot, irritated and on fire. I’d made last-second touchdown grabs. I’d faced down arrogant teenagers. I’d changed dirty diapers in public. There was absolutely zero chance I was going to let Sharon Ann and Deborah impeach me.

  My stomach rumbled, and it wasn’t just from the anger. I’d skipped breakfast, and my little confrontation had apparently spurred my appetite. So I headed toward Rose Petal Square.

  Rose Petal Square was actually a street. The original downtown area hadn’t actually formed a square or rectangular area, but the powers that be had wanted a town square that would draw locals and lost tourists. So t
hey’d come up with the brilliant idea of naming a street Rose Petal Square in hopes of confusing everyone.

  And it worked.

  Right in the middle of the six-block length of Rose Petal Square was Delilah’s, a diner that also served as the unofficial town hall. You wanted to get the proverbial pulse of Rose Petal, you had a little breakfast and eavesdropped at Delilah’s.

  It was also where my father, official town council member, had breakfast every day.

  I found him at a back table with Cedric Cobb and Sheldon Monaghan.

  He raised his eyes as I approached. “Well, well. If it isn’t my son, the stalker.”

  I grabbed the empty chair next to him. “I will stab you in the eye with that spoon on the table if you keep it up.”

  Cedric chuckled and Sheldon laughed into his mug of coffee.

  “Hear you got a little get-together tomorrow night, too,” Cedric said, pointing at me with a forkful of egg.

  “Jesus. How do you already know that?”

  All three men just shrugged.

  “What’s all this business with Shayna?” my father asked.

  “There is no business with Shayna,” I said sharply. “It’s garbage.”

  “Restraining order ain’t garbage, Deuce,” Sheldon said, then took a sip from his coffee.

  Sheldon Monaghan was my father’s oldest friend. They’d played ball together at Rose Petal back in their day, and they’d remained close ever since. Sheldon had parlayed his role as the town’s most prominent Realtor into an eleven-year stint as Rose Petal’s mayor. With his shock of white hair and ever-present bifocals, he looked about ten years older than my father. He compensated for that by dating women half his age.

  “No idea why she filed it,” I told them. “She called me and asked me to come over. Nothing happened at her house.”

  “I’ll give Gerald a call,” Cedric said. “See if he’ll spill anything.”

  Gerald Kantner was the judge in Rose Petal. Normally, he occupied the chair I was sitting in.

  “I’d appreciate that,” I said.

  The waitress came, and I ordered pancakes, bacon, and orange juice.