by Leanne Davis
“I should never have.”
Vickie stretched out and waved her hand around. “Don’t I know about that? All the things that I should not have done could fill a book. The coffee? Come on; don’t fail me again, big sis.”
Tracy felt surprised when a small smile started to blossom on her face. Was she for real? Her sister was okay being around her even though she admitted to kissing her husband? Was her sister, in her rude, apathetic way, asking Tracy to stay with her today?
“Vickie, first, I want you to hear me out.”
Vickie suddenly sat up and gripped her hand. “Damn it, Tracy, I do not want to talk to you about this. I talked to my husband, okay? We already got it handled. We actually can deal with things in our own way, between us. You don’t have to understand it, and I don’t have to tell you about it. Will you give me that?”
“I’ll give you that,” Tracy whispered, with downcast eyes. Tracy’s shame lodged like a rock in her stomach. She nodded and pressed her lips together. She was so sorry that all she wanted to do was fall at Vickie’s knees and apologize. But obviously, Vickie didn’t want to hear it. Although it would have made Tracy feel better, it would not have worked for Vickie. But… Tracy’s biggest shock was that Vickie didn’t seem to hate her.
“But I do want you to get me some coffee and sit your ass down. I’m hung over, but it’ll go away by this afternoon. Then I want us to do something. Otherwise, I’ll sit here all day, feeling sad and ashamed over what I did. I don’t like feeling that way. And I don’t want to do that all day. So, you can keep me company.”
“Are you for real? Who deals with this by hanging out with me?”
“Me. Now for the fifth time, go get my coffee and some aspirin. You owe me that much.”
Tracy started to turn, but hesitated at the entry to the kitchen, and added, “I’m not cleaning your house, however.”
Vickie’s grin of appreciation was quick. “Damn. It was worth a try.”
She came back with black coffee and three aspirin. Vickie took them with a swig of coffee and nodded for Tracy to sit. “So what about this boyfriend?”
“Jim? You want to talk about Jim?”
She shrugged. “Why not? Did you sleep with him? You do realize we never got to gossip about boyfriends and sex because you were always with Micah. Although we could compare my husband. Fun as that would be, let’s talk about Jim.”
Tracy’s cheeks would soon become permanently pink, she just knew it. Her sister’s anger, although very real and justified, seemed so tolerant. “It was fine.”
“Fine? Ooh, ouch. Fine? That’s a death nail. Dump him. Move on.”
“Why? He’s fun and nice to hang out with.”
“So is a dog.”
“I don’t want a dog.”
They stared at each other in silence. Yeah, Tracy knew what Vickie wanted to say next. You want my husband. But somehow, she restrained the urge. Instead, she said softly, “Don’t waste your time on ‘fine,’ Trace. This is your chance to live a little. Get out of the box your life used to be. Do it. Don’t waste it trying to be so safe.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Wow. That’s actually really good advice.”
Vickie smirked. “I do have some. I just don’t usually choose to apply it to my own life.”
She reached over and took Vickie’s hand. “So rehab again?”
Vickie sighed, “Even guilt doesn’t make you want to discuss sex with me? Always back to it, huh? Yeah, for now, that’s the plan… again.”
“Can I do anything?”
“Sit here. And don’t avoid me. That’s a shitty thing to do. And it’s pretty freaking wussy. I expect better of you than to hide from me like a naughty five-year-old. That’s my kind of move, not yours.”
She stared at their linked hands. “So you don’t want me to leave you alone?”
“No. I don’t. But maybe you could leave Donny alone for a while.”
She hung her head before finally lifting her face towards Vickie’s. “Yes, awhile sounds like the best plan.”
****
Tracy was jobless again. She refused Donny’s calls. He wanted her to come back to work, despite the drama surrounding them. She didn’t answer. She spent a few days with Vickie, however, trying to make up for not being the sister she felt she should have been. She was aware Vickie was using her a bit, and sometimes got a little petty while exploiting Tracy’s guilt. But Tracy was so grateful at Vickie’s reaction to what she did with Donny, that she gladly accepted her unwritten terms. She eventually even cleaned Vickie’s house and made her a few meals while happily taking care of Julia again. And wasn’t that the least she could do?
She thought so. Donny, however, did not. He called her, growling his annoyance that she refused to finish his important accounting work, but didn’t mind cleaning his freaking house? Especially, when Vickie was right there all the time, and perfectly capable of doing it? But Tracy just shushed him and hung up.
She broke it off with Jim. Vickie was right, it might have been better to not be with anyone than to settle or compromise. The companionship was nice, but she didn’t really enjoy the sex. And besides, the man didn’t deserve to be led on. Who knew she’d be the kind of woman to lead a man on? She was surprised to find herself in that role, and to learn that she hurt him. He said he was stung when she broke up with him. He thought things were great between them. So she blamed it on her husband, and said she still loved him, which was true, and that Jim was her rebound. Who knew she’d have a rebound? It sounded so “now,” and like something Vickie might have said. Tracy kind of hated being “now” and relevant and dating.
There was no way to totally avoid Donny. They were family, after all. When she finally sold the house, her father, mother, Vickie and Donny came over to help her pack and move all her things. She made sure not to be in any room alone with Donny for even a second.
It was yet another traumatic hurdle she had to get over. And every bit as traumatic as every holiday and birthday. She boxed up pictures and mementos from her life with Micah. There was no pretending it wasn’t devastating. She had to downsize, of course, so much of the furniture was sold or donated, along with household items, knick-knacks and clothing. She cleaned out her entire life as neatly as Micah wiped out her former lifestyle.
She had only one bad moment and Donny caught her. She was holding a box from her nightstand. Micah’s gun. She hated it. They had a rip-snarling fight the day he brought it home. She was only twenty-four years old, and usually deferred to him, a lot. Perhaps too much. But in that case, she did not. She refused to speak to him for five days. She came home with that very lock box and threw it at him from five feet away. He caught it before it clipped the side of his head. He again claimed he needed the handgun for protection, but she knew it was actually a macho way to pretend he was tough. The man didn’t hunt wild game, or have any other outdoor inclinations. He just wanted to feel like a big man. She was very worried her children would find it. Plus, what exactly did Micah intend to ever do with it?
Holding the box, the memories of the fight, the anger, and making up all flashed as clearly through her head as if she were watching a replay of it from a recording. It suddenly seemed so real. Micah’s voice. His tone. And his movements.
Donny paused at the bedroom doorway when he noticed what she was holding as well as the odd trance she was in. She remembered the scenario so clearly from ten months ago, when Micah sat on that very bed, staring at the gun. Thinking… longing… trying to muster the courage to kill himself.
Did he have that much remorse? Tracy truly didn’t know, and it tugged at her heart. Would it even have helped? Was his remorse, in its culmination to the point of Micah considering suicide, enough to atone for the pain of his actions after that? Why did he choose that path? If he were so riddled with guilt that he even seriously contemplated suicide, how could he then just turn around and leave her? Leave them?
She sat down on the bed, feeling like a brick lay sideways in her
stomach. Sometimes, even after all the time that passed, the thought of what Micah did so shocked and hurt Tracy that it could still have floored her.
“Tracy?”
She jerked to attention at hearing Donny’s soft tone. He obviously didn’t want to startle her.
“You forgot to take this.”
He held her gaze as he stepped into her bedroom. He’d only ever been inside her bedroom before when he took that same gun from her. Again, he lifted the metal box from her lap. “How about I take it now?”
She nodded as fresh, hot tears filled her eyes. Jerking her neck around, she wiped her hand over her face. She could not cry. Not now, not after all this time. Not just because of hearing Donny’s soft, caring, understanding tone.
“I’ll pretend I don’t see your tears because I know that’s what you want. But just so you know, you’re better off now. Without him. Even having the capability to act as he did makes him a rotten son of a bitch. And totally undeserving of you. Move. Leave this house, and leave your memories of him right here, where they are. Leave your feelings for him behind and start over.”
She pressed the back of her hands to her eyes. “Good advice. It’s what I wanted to do; it’s just not that easy to convince my heart to feel what I know I should do.”
He reached over and set a hand on her shoulder. His hand felt warm and solid on her skin. He squeezed her, but she kept her face averted. Only for a brief second did she cover his hand with her own. Then he swiftly withdrew his as he straightened up and left, carrying Micah’s gun.
Tracy and the girls settled into Gretchen’s old condo rather swiftly. It had stunning views of the local community park, and further off lay the surrounding rim of mountains and residential rooftops. It was pristine and airy, and completely the opposite of the lake house. That was good, but weird.
Tracy tried to leave her memories at the lake house, but they still haunted her. The girls had the summer off and together, they spent a lot of time decorating as they settled into the condo. They did a lot more stuff together. Tracy wallowed in their company, and strangely enough, they did the same with her. They were glad to move, but it also made them all feel more vulnerable and kind of set adrift in the world. They soon realized they only had each other to count on.
Donny called Tracy in July to tell her he suggested her name to a colleague with regard to a sales position. The company was a large chain that sold a multitude of software systems to a variety of different fields. The job he suggested she interview for was the “point person” who dealt with many of the potential clients first. Donny knew the owner quite well, and wasn’t shy in talking Tracy up. The day she had the interview, she almost pitted out her blouse with sweat from her nerves. Luckily, her blazer covered her. She’d never gone to a job interview before. She was so nervous, she kept tripping over her words. But she smiled and the interviewer also smiled. She admitted upfront she didn’t know much about their product, but was eager to learn.
She landed the job, owing to Donny’s great reference and insistence, and also, as sexist as it sounds, because she was a woman. Donny explained that after the fact, however. The company was specifically hoping to increase the number of women as technology was more or less a male-dominated field, and not always politically correct. They wanted a friendly person who could do the job, and who also happened to be a woman. Donny said he was confident she fit both bills. Although a little offended, Tracy was also grateful, just this once, for reverse sexism.
She could do the job, which required a lot of reading. She had to learn the pros and cons of each different software program they sold. She was given a month of book training before she was allowed to accompany her counterpart and learn on-the-job training.
The condo. The new job. The longer hours. The girls alone. Everything was all so strange. And good too. In many ways, it was what Tracy was looking for since the day Micah left. She stayed busy and involved and didn’t have a lot of extra time to think about all she lost and how much her life had changed.
When she started her new job, she requested two weeks off in advance for a scheduled family vacation. Maybe she had no right, but her kids needed that vacation more than anything she could think of. It was the same vacation her children had taken every year of their short lives. It was something they counted on and sincerely loved. Her parents always rented a three-story house on a small island in the Pacific Northwest, right on Puget Sound. She, Micah and her kids always went there, as did Vickie. Gretchen sometimes came. Last year she and Tony did, but this year, they weren’t sure because Tony had a speech scheduled, and doubted he could change it. Although it might have been tough to go there now without Micah, Tracy felt her kids deserved to be with their grandparents just the same. She decided to join them only on the weekends, if they didn’t agree, but they were very gracious about it. With a huge breath of relief, Tracy was glad that something would be the same as last year. Nothing else in her life, or her children’s was anything like it was even a year ago. For a family who once thrived on having schedules, routine, and regularity, they were now the opposite in almost every way.
Vickie left for rehab a week before the vacation. She and Vickie kept their rather odd truce and somehow, it worked.
Tracy hadn’t seen Donny since the day he helped her father set her bed up in her new condo. She heard he was coming there on vacation because her parents wanted Julia there. Besides, he already had it scheduled since last year, assuming he’d be going there with Vickie.
Instead, both Tracy and Donny went there sans spouses, and with their kids. And finally, after nearly two months of no contact, Donny and Tracy were sharing the same house.
Chapter Eighteen
IT WAS A NEARLY A Catch-Twenty-Two being at the Whidbey Island house. Tracy drove up with her parents, who pulled a small trailer that contained all their belongings. It was odd to be riding with them. The last time she did that was when the girls were really young and Micah couldn’t join them for the first week because of his work. They rented the same house they always did ever since she was a young girl. It was recently remodeled and painted in a shade of fresh baby blue. The first floor had the kitchen and living area with all the bedrooms piled on top, up to the third floor. The girls always shared, and when Olivia came, they made it a threesome. For them, it was a heavenly, giggling two-week slumber party.
Tracy had the same lovely memories in that very room with her sisters having two-week sleepovers. Seeing her daughters with Gretchen’s… and imagining that someday, Julia would be joining them, was a lovely thought that tugged her heartstrings. Tracy hoped it would continue for coming generations. It also struck home that her life-long bond with her little sister was nearly cast away as easily as if it were just a random pebble on the beach.
Donny and Julia arrived two hours after Tracy and the rest of the family did. He unloaded their things and took the bedroom nearest hers. The girls were up one floor and her parents slept across from her. There were several awkward moments when Tracy or Donny passed by each other, or collided while coming through the same door. She didn’t allow Donny any time alone with her, however, or any conversation without first making sure others were present. She spent a lot of time with the kids so they were usually close by. She and her mother cooked all the meals, which also kept her busy and productive, rather than lounging around when Donny came in.
The girls spent a lot of time at the beach. They chose the last week of August and the first week of September, one of the rare seasons when the area had sunny skies and pleasant temperatures. They frolicked on the beach and played in the sand with Julia. Julia, now a month past two, toddled around with impish, smiling, trouble-making curiosity.
It hurt Tracy to watch Julia very long. She was so beautiful, and so like Vickie, Tracy easily remembered her daughters being on the same beach at that age, toddling around the beach grabbing every shell and rock, while sand caked in every part of their clothing. So easily, she remembered the mother she formerly was.
The wife she formerly was. And the man she shared those things with. The hurt and memories were sharper than Tracy imagined would arise just from being there. The first year anniversary of the day she learned what Micah had done was coming up. And Donny? He was just… there. Everywhere Tracy looked, there he was. His dark eyes followed her everywhere, and his gaze seemed to bore right into her. His chemistry kept calling her.
****
Tracy stared out at the water. It was late evening, and so pleasant and lovely, it almost made her teeth ache. She sat on a log, bleached and smoothed by the waves and sun. The beach was dark and empty. The water lapped the shore softly like a tap dancer practicing the same step over and over again. It was fully night now. The twilight lingered until well past nine o’clock. The neighborhood was still and quiet, and the tiny dots of a few passing ships peppered the horizon.
The Indian summer air was warm enough to wear only shorts and a t-shirt. Tracy sat there at ten o’clock, feeling exhausted after another day of avoiding Donny and thinking about Micah.
As she sat there, time ceased its relevance to anything. Her mind’s images drifted and faded as they replayed the years of her life.
Of course, she thought of previous vacations. Every year, they went with her parents. A smile curled her lips as she saw herself, as a young mother, holding back her long, red hair while the wind whipped through it. She could even taste the salt on her lips. And feel the sun stinging her skin with heat, despite the breeze. Ally was a toddler, and Kylie was barely walking. Kylie dragged Tracy down the beach to a sandy spot with fewer smooth pebbles, which is what comprised most of Puget Sound’s beaches. She laughed after seeing Ally get up with wet sand stuck to her butt.
Glancing up again, Tracy saw Micah striding towards her, wearing tan shorts and a dark-colored polo shirt. His smile made his face beam like sunshine. He’d arrived early. Although he had more meetings, and wasn’t supposed to be there for another two days, Tracy was elated. She and her parents only came without him so they could enjoy the excellent weather longer. She delightedly ran to him and he caught her and bent her back over his arm in a long, hot kiss, the kind that a couple who’d been together for five years should not have engaged in on a beach with their two small children directly behind them. Nevertheless, they did.