Damage Done

by Virginia Duke

  He paused for air and Rachel's hand rose to halt the onslaught as she barreled past him towards her office.

  "Jake. Seriously. This is not the time."

  "Rachel Kay, don't 'this is not the time' me, honey!" he shot back, "I had to spend over an hour with that junkie bastard and your mother. You're the one who disappeared twenty four hours after your ex-boyfriend turned our office into the royal gardens at Versailles. If you need some kind of break from reality, clue your partner in on it so we don't blow the only event of the year that brings in any real revenue for this organization!"

  She threw her stuff on the desk, sat in her chair, sighed and looked up at the only friend she'd ever had who she could talk to without feeling nervous, without fretting over what he would think or say.

  Dylan had been that friend once. Maybe he'd be that friend again, she didn’t know. Too much had happened between then and now, she was married, she had to protect Hunter and Lauren. And he was dealing with losing Michael. It would take some time for them to get back to that place, and until they did, if they did, Jake was still her only real sounding board.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, “I just forgot about it.”

  "Right. Okay, well, now that we’ve covered that, tell me where the hell you were yesterday. Let's get back to that, asshole. And don't tell me you don't want to talk about it."

  Rachel glared at him and reached defiantly into her chocolate drawer, pulling out a handful of Hershey's kisses.

  "I went and met Dylan for coffee. My mother told him I had an abortion and never wanted to see him again. He thought I left him to be with Brent and he ran off and joined the Army. Then he hooked up with Michael's mom and adopted Michael," she said, popping a chocolate in her mouth nonchalantly, "Well, I take that back. I don't know if he adopted him or not, we never got around to that. But from what I gathered, he's been the only father Michael has ever known."

  Jake's face was blank, he sat upright, hands on his knees. He was so rarely speechless, Rachel thought she'd finish quickly before he stroked out, “So then we had sex. And it was amazing. And he wants me to leave Kenneth and for us to spend our lives together."

  Silence.

  She shoved the chocolate wrappers in the tacky orange vase, taking her time to suck down the last of it.

  "You're fucking with me."

  "No, I'm deadly serious."

  "But you're not freaking out or fanning yourself or popping Valium or crying. You have to be fucking with me."

  "Jake, I'm not fucking with you. I just gave you the short and sweet of why I wasn't at that meeting yesterday with my mom and Neil."

  She threw another chocolate in her mouth.

  "So, wait. Your mother told him you had an abortion?" he asked, leaning forward, his fingers to his temple in distress.

  "Correct. Mother told him I had an abortion.”

  “Oh my God,” he whispered, “You were right, your mother really is the devil, I’m sorry I never believed you. Did you tell him about Brent?”

  “No."

  Jake sucked in sharply and whistled, "Rachel, why didn't you tell him what happened?"

  "Because I didn't know how to. I mean, how do you lay that much more nasty business on a man who is watching the only son he's ever had lie hooked up to life support, waiting for the Reaper to come and take him? When you're seeing each other for the first time in sixteen years?"

  "Holy Mary Mother of Madonna, Rachel. This is just- what are you going to do?"

  "I don't know. Kenneth and I haven't been working for a long time, Jake.”

  “No, you haven’t,” he agreed, “But he’s the father of your children and you’ve been married for twelve years.”

  “Thanks, Captain Obvious. I don't even know what to think. I don't care right now. I'm just ready to be happy again."

  "Rachel," he began as soon as she went quiet, "It's not going to be that easy."

  "I know it's not going to be easy, but you asked me, and I'm telling you. I don't know, Jake," she said defensively, "Listen. Yesterday when I went to pick up Lauren, I didn't feel obliged to run anybody over for taking their sweet time loading their kids in the car. I feel fine. I'm not nervous, I'm not worried. I'm sad, yes, but I love Dylan. I've always loved Dylan. Kenneth is a wonderful father, but he's a shitty husband. He doesn't love me, Jake."

  "Rachel, that's bullshit."

  "It's not bullshit!" she yelled.

  "Don't yell at me, you slut!" he yelled back, "I'm trying to help you. You need to slow down. You need to take more time to consider what's going on here. You've been married for twelve years, Rachel."

  "Look," she said, lowering her voice, "He hasn't touched me in a year, and to be honest, when he touched me before that, it was never that great anyway. He won't talk to me, he doesn't even look at me, our marriage is over. And for sixteen years I've thought that the one man I really loved, the first man I ever loved, left me and I've hated him for it. And I've wondered what was wrong with me that I could never forget him, never let him go. I thought I was crazy for thinking we had this special thing, I thought- "

  She started crying, she didn't want to cry, "I thought it was me, I thought he never loved me, and that I was just this stupid girl he fucked and left because he got me pregnant. And now here he is telling me it wasn't just me, it was real, that I'm not crazy. Don't I deserve to have that back? Am I supposed to walk away from that? What am I supposed to do, Jake?" she yelled, "Tell me what I'm supposed to do!"

  Jake walked around to sit on her desk, "I'm sorry, Honey. You know I'm here for you, no matter what. But you need some more time to think over what's happening here. You can't just reshuffle your life because you had coffee and sex with an old boyfriend."

  "It's not just that," she sniffled, "I'm serious, Jake. My marriage is over. And I'm sad about it, but it's just a fact. It's been over for a long time. And I can't let go of Dylan, I just can't. Every part of me knows that he's supposed to be in my life. But I'm not in a hurry. I know I need to put myself first. To be honest, right now I'm more concerned about my kids and about how I'm going to confront my mother and Jameson."

  "And what about Kenneth?"

  "Kenneth is strong, he will be fine."

  "Maybe down the road, but you have no idea how long it will take for him to recover. He's not going to take this well, Rachel."

  "Maybe he won't, and I'll have to deal with that. But you have got to support me. You're the only person who understands that I never loved him the way he wanted me to. You've got to support me in this, Jake."

  "Fine. But slow down, killer," he said, waving his hands, "We'll deal with your marital suicide later. First things first. You've been itching to dump this gala on me for weeks, so let's get that out of the way. Now ask me nicely. Say, 'Jake, I really need you to put your Oscar worthy event coordinating skills to good use. Save my ass, be my superhero. Take over the fundraising gala.' Say all of those things and then I want you to kiss my boot."

  She laughed and reached for a tissue to wipe her nose, "I don't know what I'd do without you, Jake, please take over and put your superdiva party planning skills to good use, dearest arrogant, borderline narcissistic best friend of mine."

  She grabbed both of his hands to kiss them.

  "Ewwww," he said, pulling away, "You've got boogers all over you! Go wash your face, and then go home. You need to talk to your husband. Tell him you're spending the weekend in Gretna, you need some time to figure this shit out. If he tells you he has to work, then Mark and I will take the kids to Six Flags or something. I need to see how he handles the little demons anyway before we get much more serious."

  "I love you, Jake. Truly. You're an angel, I don't deserve you."

  "Hey, go wash your face. You save me every now and again, I can return the favor just this once."

  ***

  It was Friday, she hadn’t heard from Dylan, and she hadn’t told Kenneth she was going to Gretna for the weekend. She'd need more time to solve the riddles of her unhapp
y marriage. And more time to balance being a mother to children who were healthy and well while Dylan faced losing the only child he'd ever had. Rachel was still a master at compartmentalizing, at putting things in the back of her mind to deal with later. She needed to go home and load her stuff in the car, and she wanted to stop and buy some new paints, it was time to find herself again. Her cell rang on her desk.

  "Kenneth, are you okay?"

  "Yes."

  "What's going on?"

  He still hadn’t told her about the paperwork he’d been served, and she wasn’t sure she cared, but something had to have been wrong for him to be calling her.

  "Nothing, I’m going out with Max later, I can’t find my wallet.”

  “And you’re calling me because?”

  “Have you seen it?” he asked.

  “No, I haven’t,” she said, and gathering her courage, “Listen, what was that paperwork Henry Lowe brought you?”

  “Just crap with work, I've got to submit an affidavit about what happened that night at the game."

  "Is it a civil suit?"

  "No, it's just the licensing review board, I think it's just a formality because I wasn't on the clock. I've got to talk to a lawyer."

  "Alright," she hesitated, "So, can I do anything? Do you want me to have Jerry call you?"

  "I don't fucking know, Rachel, yes, have him call me," he said, annoyed, "Or just text me his number, I'll call him."

  She knew he was under more stress than usual, and he'd been cold and distant for a long time now, but his attitude lately had just gotten more and more impatient and uncivil. She was tired of pretending she didn't notice.

  "Fine, Kenneth. I'll text it to you. I'm going to Jake's house in Gretna this weekend, are you on call or will you be home to be with the kids?"

  "Are you serious? You're going out of town and leaving me and the kids?"

  "Yes."

  "Fine, whatever. Yes, I'm on call, but I'll get it covered."

  "You don't have to do that, Jake offered to keep the kids."

  "So Jake isn't even going to be there? That's awesome, Rachel."

  "Yeah, it is awesome. So I'll tell Jake to keep the kids. See you Monday."

  She hung up feeling a lot less guilty about having fucked her old boyfriend and wanting a divorce, wishing she'd been assertive enough to walk away years ago. But then she wouldn't have had Lauren, or maybe even Hunter, and she couldn't imagine what her life would have been like without them. They had to be her focus.

  ***

  The pressure was lifted from having to worry about the gala, and she needed to concentrate on how to minimize the damage to the kids as she prepared to pursue a divorce. She was angry she hadn't considered it before, that it had taken Dylan coming back for her to put that card on the table. It wasn't fair to Kenneth, or the kids. Her father's affair had destroyed her, and she'd sworn to protect her kids from that kind of heartache. She was a walking cliche' of a woman trapped in the divorce cycle after vowing bitterly never to repeat her parent's mistakes.

  It was too late to confront her father, but she'd need to confront Savannah, if for no other reason than to cut her out of her life, to protect her kids from falling victim to her mother's diabolical bullshit.

  She was eager to get to Gretna that afternoon. After she'd stopped for some new art supplies and thrown her stuff in a beach bag, she pulled off the gravel driveway and texted Dylan.

  Going to Jake's house in Gretna. Need time.

  She stopped at a little farmer's market on the way out and grabbed some eggs and produce, a few things to make a salad. There was no telling what Jake may have out there, the house stayed unoccupied most of the time. A nice old man worked the register and helped her pick through the tomatoes, chatting about the weather, he wished they'd had more rain over the summer.

  Rachel listened to him talk about the impact of the drought on Texas agriculture and found herself wondering if he'd ever lied to his children or deceived someone he loved. Was he an honest man? Had he ever been in love? Broken a heart? Maybe he was a vet. Maybe he'd left some young lover pregnant in a time of war and hurried home to the wife who waited patiently for him to finish out his tour. Had he ever told his wife? Had they ever heard from the child he'd fathered?

  He put her supplies in a large brown paper sack and smiled as he wished her a pleasant afternoon. She pulled away still fantasizing about what his life must have been like. How many other women get lost in themselves thinking about the lives of total strangers, unable to focus on their own? She had to stop finding excuses not to make decisions or hold herself accountable.

  An hour later, she pulled onto the narrow dirt drive and began the long trip from the road to the house, winding along the driveway shadowed by pine trees until the sun finally reappeared and the enormous country getaway came into sight.

  Jake's grandfather built the home for his new wife in the early fifties, a time when modernism had been the new trend, but he'd had a love for classic architecture and preferred the timeless appeal of this French Acadian behemoth.

  Carefully planned wildflowers swept over the cobblestone sidewalks, and lilacs hung low from their baskets below the windows stretching across the house. The hydrangeas were finally succumbing to the fall, but a landscaper must have been out recently, the gardens were still well manicured.

  She grabbed the beach bag and the paper sack of supplies, making her way up the stone sidewalk towards the front door. She set it all down when she hit the porch and dug around in the large potted jasmine for the tin box with the key. She'd only been out here a handful of times, she set her bags on the counter in the kitchen and made her way around the rooms, flipping on a few lights and familiarizing herself with everything.

  Rachel had two immediate goals, the wine rack and the antique record player.

  The wine rack was easy enough, she settled on a trusty pinot, but had to dig around for a corkscrew. There was one hiding in the back of a drawer and she set the open bottle on the counter to breathe while she made her way into the living area where she'd seen the music console, a vintage mahogany cabinet made sometime in the fifties, a huge heavy piece. She lifted the lid hiding the record player and carefully blew inside to get rid of any dust that may have made its way in. There was no need. The entire house was immaculate. She sifted through the shelf filled with old albums and 45's, lingering over a few before deciding on an old Roy Orbison album her father had loved.

  Roy's voice filled the room, singing about dreams and lost loves, and she poured a glass of wine thinking it was a bad choice. She hadn't wanted to reflect on any more time past, she needed to look forward, not back. But she stuck with it anyway, and rinsed and prepared her fresh vegetables while she tried to relax, forcing her mind to slow.

  When she looked up from the vegetables, she'd already finished two glasses of wine. She took the beach bag to the master suite and threw it on the plush king size bed, grateful the room was so inviting, then spied the large garden tub through the bathroom door and made a mental note to find some bubble bath. Surely Jake had some fancy organic bath fizzies around there somewhere.

  The album ended as she made her way to the porch to watch the sun set over the lake, the gorgeous pinks and blues were drowning the clouds on the horizon, begging to be worshipped. She thought to get her canvas and paints, she couldn't have prayed for a more stunning muse, but it was too late. She was tired and wanted to enjoy the view, she couldn't remember the last time she'd enjoyed a sunset, or a quiet moment alone that wasn't polluted by visions of women with black eyes, or fear over screwing up her kids, or death.

  Her mind raced back to the time when she'd first faced death, but she fought the chill that shot through her and tried not to give in to the need to remember.

  The sound of her cell ringing from inside brought her back to the sinking sun, now on the final leg of its race into the horizon, and she went inside with her empty wine glass to dig out the phone. It was Kenneth. Twice in one day? Something wa
s wrong, or he was calling to fight some more.

  "Hello?"

  "Rachel. Hey," he said, his voice somber and low.

  "Hey."

  "You made it?"

  "Yes, I'm sorry I didn't call. I've been here about an hour. Are y'all okay?"

  "Sure, we're good," he said, "The kids are in the backyard playing with the neighbors, Jake and Mark are picking them up first thing in the morning."

  She waited for him to continue, but when he didn't she said, "Sounds good."

  "Rachel."

  "Yes?"

  "Listen, I want to tell you I'm sorry. For earlier."

  She hadn't expected an apology. She held her breath, unsure of what to say to him, her fingers gripping the phone tightly.

  "Rachel?"

  "I'm here."

  "Really. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything. I know I've been preoccupied and things have been tense, but I want to make it better. For all of us."

  She was weary of this game. She wanted to tell him it was too late to make it better, the damage was done. They'd gone too long, the distance and the tension, they'd poisoned her against him, against their marriage. She wanted to tell him that she'd never truly been in love with him, that her life was dark when she'd married him, and she'd never given him the love he'd deserved.

  She wanted to tell him she'd mourned the loss of someone else, and it had kept her from loving him.

  But she couldn't. She didn't want to hurt him. He'd helped her put herself together again, held her when she'd screamed in the night, convinced her she could be a good mother. Whatever else had happened, Kenneth was still in her heart. But Dylan was in her soul, and she'd never really let him go.

  "Rachel?"

  "I'm sorry, I'm here. I'm sorry, too, Kenneth."

  She took a deep breath and finished, "But I'm really unhappy. And so are you. It's not fair to either one of us, and it's certainly not fair to Hunter or Lauren."