David stops in place, water welling in his eyes before erupting into floods of tears. “I wanted to be first to see Daddy. I miss him.” He sputters in-between words.
I scoop him into my arms. “David, it’s okay. Daddy misses the both of you very much, and you can greet him together.”
He buries his head into the crook of my neck, and his tears dampen my shirt. “Why does he have to live at another house?” David whimpers.
Now I spot Troy by my feet, sadness in his eyes. “I wish Daddy lived with us,” Troy quietly admits. I inhale a large breath and lower myself to the floor. The boys are young, and they hadn’t seemed all that affected by Brent’s leaving, but now I see how wrong I’ve been.
Holding out my arm, Troy snuggles with me, too. We sit for a few moments in silence until Natalie enters the room. Her eyes momentarily flick over us, but she says nothing and walks into the kitchen. “Boys, why don’t you get your folding chairs and sit near the door? Then, when Daddy comes in, you’ll be the first people he sees. I think that will make him really happy.”
“Okay!” they shout in unison and run off to get their chairs.
“Mom.” I turn to see Grace, thankfully make-up free. “Will dad be much longer?” Of all my children, the split has noticeably affected Grace the most. The joy she always exudes has diminished greatly, and I have no idea how to fix it. I’m hoping time will help to heal her.
I glance to the wall clock. “Soon. Could be any minute.”
The boys come marching past, each with a chair in his clutches, to claim their spots by the front door. Grace looks to me. “They’re waiting for your dad,” I offer.
With understanding, she flashes a small smile. “Can I wait with them?”
“Grace, baby, you don’t need to ask. Of course you can. I’m sure your father has missed you all as much as you’ve missed him.” Nodding, she makes her way over to the twins, sitting on the carpet next to them, but not before ruffling their hair, much to their disgust.
Watching the three of them, waiting, just a few feet from the door, tears threaten to fall. More heartache. Turning away, I attempt to busy myself with washing the dishes.
“Umm…Mom, can I talk to you?” Natalie stands in the doorway looking edgy. “In private.”
“Of course.” Concerned something else is wrong, I wipe my hands on a dish cloth and follow her to her room.
“What’s wrong?” She’s turned away from me as her head hangs low.
Stepping forward, I place my hand on her shoulder, and it shakes under my touch. “Nat, are you crying? What’s wrong?”
Natalie spins around, desperately clinging to me as her arms wrap tightly around my middle. I’m taken aback; this is so unlike Natalie. “Oh, Mom, I’m so sorry.” I can barely make out what she’s saying because her words are mumbled into my clothes.
I gently pull her away, but her arms remain fastened around me. Tears roll down her cheeks, and mascara is streaked down her face. “What do you have to be sorry about?”
Her flow of tears slows momentarily. “I called you frumpy and said I wanted to live with Dad. I don’t want to live with Dad; I want to live with you both, here. I want things to be the way they used to be.” She becomes wracked with sobs, and I’m speechless as I grow overwhelmed with my own emotions. I pull her back into a tight embrace, and we stand there, no words passing as I desperately try to comfort my child. Finally, I walk us to her bed.
“Nat, thank you for your apology, but it isn’t needed, okay?”
“It’s because of me, isn’t it? I’m such a bitch…”
“Nat, don’t say things like that.”
“I’m sorry, but I know I am. I just can’t help it. The words fly out of my mouth before I think. I promise, I’ll try harder to be nice.” I stroke her face. “Mom, do you really think it’s over?”
I try keeping my face as blank as possible. “Sweetheart, I have no way of knowing right now, but I wouldn’t get your hopes up.”
“But I don’t want us to be apart.” Her voice is so desperate that my tears run freely.
“Me neither, sweetheart, but it’s the way it has to be, for now.” She weakly nods. I hear the twins shouting. “Daddy! Daddy!”
Natalie franticly wipes her face with her sleeve. “Hey, it’s okay. Go wash up, then come out to see him. I think he’ll visit for a while.” Natalie agrees, and after our chat, she seems a little less pained. Standing at the top of the stairs, I hear the rich baritone of Brent’s voice, and I still. I’ve missed him so much. Closing my eyes, I bite the inside of my mouth to keep my already over flowing emotions in check. I must remain strong. After taking a few slow breaths, I carefully descend the stairs.
When I reach the hallway, I falter yet again at the sight before me. Brent’s back is towards me, and he’s kneeling before Troy, David, and Grace. All three children are locked in his tight embrace. I feel as if I’m intruding, so quietly, I slip into the kitchen.
Pacing, I run my hands over my hair. I can’t be here. I can’t. Picking up my purse from the back of the chair, I step back into the hallway. Brent, now standing with the twins in his arms, notices me, and his smile fades.
“Hi, umm…I’m going to head out. Umm…give you some time. They’ve missed you.”
Brent smiles down at Grace, who clings to his arm. “I’ve missed them, too.”
I can’t be in the same space as him for much longer without breaking down. I truly hope this gets easier. “Okay, well I’ll give you a few hours then.” I try surging past them to the garage.
“Mallory, you don’t have to leave.”
“Yes, I do.” My eyes plead for him to understand how hard and torturous this is for me.
He nods. “Take your time.”
“Thank you.” Slipping outside, I quickly make my way to my car. As soon as I climb inside, I sit a good five minutes before composing myself enough to drive away. I have no idea where to go, so I spend the next half an hour aimlessly wandering town. I’ve passed Iris and Howard’s house twice, but I can’t face them. I need personal space right now.
I find an empty parking lot and pull over to replay everything from the last twenty years over in my mind. The good and the bad. People make marriages work all the time, but others fail. Why us? We overcame so much to be together. Nothing was ever traditional about our relationship. Why couldn’t we succeed? We’re good people who despite never being given a fair shot, overcame it all to be together. First, his dad, and now just plain old life continues to rain shit upon us. It’s so easy to feel sorry for myself, but I know it won’t solve a damn thing. Life is about making it what you want. I want change, positive change. But how, and does Brent fit into that equation? Will I ever be able to get those words spoken between him and Whitney out of my head? What about the sight of them slow dancing, or her pushed up against him in her underwear? I still don’t know that he didn’t screw her after I left. The daylight’s long faded, and I decide to get back.
Pulling into the drive, I notice all the lights are out except for the living room. Inserting my keys into the lock, I gasp when the door opens with Brent standing before me, basked in light. “Umm, sorry I am late.”
“I was getting worried; you’ve been a while.”
“I was driving.” I walk inside, trying not to touch him.
“All this time?”
“Yes.” I hurry into the kitchen, placing my purse back on the table when I hear Brent enter. “When are you coming back to visit with the children?” I ask, trying to busy myself by putting on the kettle for some tea.
“Mallory.”
“Yeah?” My head is buried inside the pantry as I dig around for more sugar.
“Mal, please. Can we talk? I hate how awkward you’re acting around me.” I sigh. I suppose it’s inevitable. I have a strong feeling I know what’s coming, and because of it, I’ve been stalling most of the evening.
“Okay.” Brent pulls a chair from under the table and motions for me to sit.
Onc
e he joins me, he nervously rubs the back of his neck with his hand. “There’s no easy way to say this, so I’ll just spit it out.” He pauses, and I raise my brows for him to continue. “I’ve been offered the job and will be accepting it.” That’s it then. We’re done. I don’t know what I believed would happen when it was all finalized, but nothing does. The world carries on turning, my heart doesn’t spill open and bleed out all over the floor, and I’m not a huge blubbering mess. I’m numb and resolved to the facts.
“Okay, so you’ll be relocating then?”
“Eventually. Mal, this is my dream. I’m getting to do something I love, and I’ll finally be able to support you and the kids the way I should.” His eyes sparkle with something I’ve haven’t seen in a while. I think it’s excitement.
“Support the kids the way you want,” I correct. I’m not being nasty, just a matter of fact.
“What?” His confusion over my statement is evident in his voice.
“You said support me and the kids. Now that we’re separated, it’s just the kids you have to support.”
“Oh right.” His head hangs low, and I’m sorry I’ve crushed his happiness, yet again.
“Hey.” I reach out and touch his arm. Our eyes meet, and I see something in his that confuses me. I whip my hand back. “Don’t feel bad. I’m pleased. Really. I can see how happy all of this makes you. We all deserve to be happy, right?”
“Mal.” Raising my hand stops him mid-sentence.
“You’ve found yours, and now I have to find MY happy, okay?” Sadly, he nods. “I’m sorry it had to end this way.”
“Mal.” I jump up and take a step back.
“I’m really tired, Brent, and I need to get some sleep. Do you need the sofa?”
“No, I have a hotel room. Nate’s room. He’s rented it for the month.”
“Okay, good then. Goodnight, Brent.”
“Mallory, I’d like to take the kids out tomorrow for dinner, okay?”
“Yes, of course. They’ll love that.”
“I’ll pick them up from school then.”
“Fine.”
“You don’t need to be so clipped with your words, Mallory.” I sigh.
“Night, Brent.” I don’t want to argue, so I head to bed where I curl into Brent’s pillow as I have every night since he’s left us.
TWENTY-ONE
The rumor mill around the school has run full blast since the twenty-year reunion, and the prize topic, our split. Students and faculty alike buzz about as I make my way to and from the classroom, and being that I never did enjoy being the center of attention, I loathe the gossip even more than usual. Brent’s submitted his two weeks’ notice. I found that out from the school secretary. He’s not seeing anyone. I found that out from the guidance counselor, who made it a point to offer her condolences in one breath, and ask if my feelings would be hurt if she asked him on a date in another. She mistook my stunned silence for contemplation and went on to explain that when she approached Brent, he told her that he wasn’t involved with anyone. Good to know. My stomach lurches, but I plaster a huge smile on my face and walk away without answering her question.
I hide out in my classroom for the most part, nothing unusual, except now I practically run to my car at the end of the school days just to avoid confrontation. I much preferred it when I was simply ignored. To add insult to injury, a notice shows up on my desk asking if I’d like to bring a dish for Brent’s going away party, and I actually checked yes. Friday, I’ll be bringing potato salad to help celebrate my husband’s leaving me. I’ve reached a new level of pathetic.
Once I’m home, the usual chaos sounds all around me, but I just go with it until I look up to find an extra person in the mix. “Wait. How long have you been here?” I ask Iris.
“You’re freaking kidding me, right? I’ve been talking to you for five minutes now.”
“I was… the dinner… I… Shit. I have no excuse. Sorry.”
She bustles over to pull the wooden spoon from my hand and sets it aside. “Natalie, would you mind finishing up this mac and cheese for your mom while I have a little chat with her?”
Sitting at the kitchen table, she pulls down her hoodie to look over at the stove, and her expression lets me know that she had no clue Iris was here, either. I don’t feel so bad now. “Yeah, sure, Aunt Iris.”
I’m led to my bedroom, where I plop onto the bed. “What’s this about? I have to get the twins fed, bathed, go over Grace’s homework, make sure Natalie…” Iris pulls open the closet door and starts slinging clothes from the hangers and onto the floor. “Hey! What in the hell are you doing?”
“How old are you, Mallory?”
“You know how old I am, and why are you making a mess in my room?”
“Are you eighty, Mallory? No, you’re half that age, so why are you dressing that way?” She holds out a pair of stretchy polyester pants. “These have no zipper and an elastic waist, which comes up to your tits, no less. And what are these colors? Wood brown, nautical navy, party purple. What the fuck is party purple? Oh, grassy green. Sexy.”
“Are you finished?” I ask, giving her the stink-eye.
“Nope. Do you even own a pair of jeans, Mallory? Let’s talk shirts now. Button-down white, button-down blue, button-down yellow, green, orange, and black. All the same style. Hmmm. Dresses. There are three. Black, blue, and…. Oh.”
“My wedding dress. Yes, I kept it. I’m feeling bad enough these days as it is, Iris. You really could have stayed home and saved yourself a trip, unless you’re trying to get me to jump off a bridge or something.”
She dumps the clothes she holds in her hands and kneels before me. “You told me you want to make yourself better. Not to win Brent back, but to find your self-worth. You’ve had two weeks to kick off this transformation, and you’ve done nothing but sit on your ass. Consider me your fairy godmother. I’m going to give you that jolt you need to get going.”
“If I don’t give you a black eye first. Iris, you destroyed my bedroom.”
“Your mom is going to pick the boys up from preschool tomorrow. Grace and Natalie are old enough to stay home for a few hours. I’m taking you out once you get off tomorrow.” I open my mouth to protest. “Nope. It’s all arranged, and before you start making excuses, Howard insisted I take you out for a special girls’ day.”
“He did?”
She nods while smiling brightly. “He did.” She kicks the clothes into a pile. “And, I’m going to start coming by in the evenings, and we’re going to do this great exercise DVD I found. No worries about leaving the kids while you’re at a gym. I’m bringing the exercise to you. It’s a great stress reliever, and the kids can even join in if they want.”
“This is all happening so fast, Iris. I don’t know…”
“All you need to do is show up at my house after you wrap up at school tomorrow. Period.”
I shake my head. “Fine. May I please check on my children now?”
“Yes, you may. Dismissed. I’ll be in here bagging all of this stuff to donate to the convalescent home.”
“Shut it, Iris.”
“I’m not joking.”
“Yes, you are.”
“No, I’m not. Go before the twins burn down the house or something.” She knows my family all too well.
The next morning, I wake up and put on the only thing Iris has left in the closet, the black dress I wore to the reunion. I really thought she was joking when she said she was bundling up all of my clothes. Taking full advantage of bath time, last night I returned downstairs sloppy and soaked after putting the kids to bed to find a barren closet. It looked cavernous enough with Brent’s things being gone, but now it just openly mocks me with its emptiness.
The school day lags, but I’m okay with it because I’m genuinely scared of what Iris is going to do with me. Shopping is the worst, and I hate it so much that all of my clothes come via mail order. I can’t even tell you the last time I stepped foot in a store for myself. Sure, I tak
e Natalie, Grace, and the boys often, but never myself.
The car isn’t even in Park when Iris, purse swinging wildly from her arm, sashays out of her front door and down the walkway. She jumps into the driver’s seat of her sporty sedan, buckles up, and turns to me with a huge grin on her face.
“You ready?”
“No,” I answer honestly.
“Too bad.”
“What is that in your hair?” I lean over to pluck out one green feather and one dark blue one. “Feathers? You don’t even have a bird, Iris.”
“Oh, that’s because Howard likes it when I…”
“Never mind! Forget I asked! I don’t want to know.”
She pulls her shirt down to peek inside, gives a hearty blow into her bra, and a few more stragglers float through the air. I turn to look out the passenger window. She slips the car into Reverse, and we’re off. I have no clue where we are heading until we arrive at Alejandro’s Unique Boutique and Salon. I nervously look around for an escape.
“What are we doing here?” I clutch the handle release for dear life.
“When’s the last time you got your hair cut, Mallory?”
“Two weeks ago.”
“By someone other than yourself.”
“Two months ago.”
“Or your kids.” The car is silent. “See, overdue. Let’s go.”
“I can’t. Iris, I’m feeling very uncomfortable right now, and I’m not…” She pries the door open despite my trying to hold it closed.
“Get out of the car, Mallory.”
“I don’t want to, Iris.”
She grinds her teeth together and opens her eyes wide. “Get out.” She wins the tug of war, and I’m pushed into the brightly lit salon.
“Iris, darling! Is this Mallory?” A very thin man in brightly colored clothes and a black apron rushes up to me and releases the hair from my ponytail. He makes noises like, “hmmmm” and “uh huh” and “ehhhh” as he runs his fingers through the thick mass. “Limitations or concerns?”
“Zero,” Iris offers in response. My eyes widen.
The Broken Road to Forever Page 20