by Toler, B N
“But why, Mom? Why’d you do it?”
“I told you. I was selfish. In most marriages, there’s always one who gives a little more, has more patience, and takes less. In my marriage that person is your father, and correct me if I’m wrong, I think you’re that person in yours. You’ve always been like him.”
I hesitate before responding. I’ve never thought I gave more, but maybe in a lot of ways I have, but in the biggest way, it’s been patience. I have always shown extreme patience with Brandon. “I just don’t know how to stop feeling so betrayed.” And that is the truth. Even when I’ve told myself I should forgive Brandon, the bitterness from his betrayal burns inside of me and wipes out any idea of forgiveness.
“You know how when you cut your finger, you put a Band-Aid on it?”
I nod to her confused.
“Eventually you have to remove that Band-Aid and let the wound breathe, which is scary because it hurts when you touch it against something, or maybe gets salt in it while cooking, but eventually you have to expose that wound, or it will never heal. You’re wounded right now, Sophia. To heal, you have to show that wound to Brandon, expose it so he can help you mend it. I know you’re afraid he may do it again, but that’s something you have to decide. After everything, all of the years of love, babies, jobs, laughs, tears, and fights, is he worth exposing that wound?” She pats my hand as tears well in my eyes. “If you decide you want to work it out, Sophia, make no mistake, it will be hardest for you. You’re the one that’s been wronged. You’re the one that has to put the pain behind you to move on. But I have a feeling if you can, you won’t regret it, dear.”
“I sent him away for the summer with the girls so I could think,” I blurt out.
She sighs heavily. “He’s probably going crazy, too. I know I did when your father ignored me for months.”
“I guess I should call him and let him know where I am.” I stare up at her for a moment. My mother has always hung the moon in my eyes. In many ways, I’ve tried to be just like her, dutiful and loyal. It makes me sad to know that my mother and father’s marriage is scarred, and I know it was hard for her to confide this in me. What mother wants their child to know such a thing about them? But then comes to reason, why in fact, despite her indiscretion, she told me to help me, to give me another point of view, and that’s why she really is the best mother. A woman that would expose her own shame so that her daughter might make a better decision. “I love you, Mom.” I slide off my stool and hug her tightly.
“I love you, too, honey.”
I leave her in the kitchen, slipping quietly through the hall towards my bedroom so as not to interrupt Tia and my father’s discussion and call Brandon.
“Hi,” I say when Brandon answers.
“How are you?” he asks. His words are clipped. Is he angry?
“I’m good. Just wanted to let you know I’m at my parent’s house until tomorrow. Then we’ll be heading off.”
“Oh. Any idea where you’re going?” His tone is tentative, as if he’s unsure if he should ask.
“Not yet. She’s being very secretive, but as soon as I know, you’ll know.”
“Okay. You wanna speak with the girls?” he offers and I wonder if he doesn’t want to speak with me. Maybe he’s mad I made him go with the girls.
“Yeah,” I answer quickly, hoping my surprise isn’t evident in my tone.
Without another word he puts Ferrah on and then Chloe. Both girls tell me about the presents their grandparents bought them today and how much they love the beach. My heart aches because I miss them so much, but I know right now I need time to myself to think clearly. Hopefully Brandon and I are hiding our problems from them as well as my Mom and Dad hid theirs from me. When I say goodbye to Chloe the line goes dead. Brandon didn’t even say goodbye?
When I walk back into the kitchen, trying not to feel bothered by the phone call, Mom is holding Tia’s face in her hands. I freeze seeing tears in my mother’s eyes. Neither of them heard me come in.
“What’s wrong, Tia? Why would you say something like that to me?” My mother’s tone is filled with panic and fear. What the hell did Tia say?
Tia tries to pry my mother’s hands from her face as she snorts. “I just told you I love you, Mom. I know I don’t tell you enough and I wanted to make sure you know. You’ve always been the best mother, even to your unruly crazy child.” With my mother’s hands successfully peeled from her face, Tia rubs her cheeks.
“Unruly maybe, crazy no.” My mother’s fearful expression softens. “We just want you to be happy, Tia. Are you?”
Tia stares at my mother a moment and sighs. “Every day, Mom. Every day. My life has been nothing but happiness. A lot of that thanks to you and Daddy.”
“You don’t look well.” My mother feels Tia’s forehead with her hand before pulling Tia’s head and placing her mouth on her forehead, the good old lip thermometer. “Are you eating enough meat?” my mother asks as she pulls away and scans Tia’s face, her eyebrows furrowed in concern.
“Really, Mom?” I grin as I lean over the counter making my presence known. Leave it to my mother to worry about how much protein Tia’s getting.
Tia laughs and pulls away from her, her smile contagious, because I can’t help smiling, too. I know Tia’s about to crack a joke just by the look on her face and even the anticipation of whatever stupid thing she’s about to say has me on the verge of laughing. Tia is just that way. One of those people who can talk about anything, say anything and make people laugh. It’s one of the things that draw people to her, make others eager to hang out with her even though she is far from perfect. She makes people laugh and it’s addictive.
“Yeah, Mom,” Tia adds. “I’m on a diet rich in sausage.” Tia’s tone is thick with innuendo, and she winks at me. I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head at her terrible and inappropriate joke. Then I laugh silently to myself as my mother’s face is covered with a soft blush. My sister has no shame.
My mother smacks Tia’s arm with her dishrag and Tia rubs the spot she hit in mock pain. “I know you’re being perverse, Tia Renee Campbell.”
Tia turns her head to me and waggles her eyebrows. “What do you know about tube steak, Ma?” Tia keeps goading and my mother’s cheeks go from slightly pink to beet red as she purses her lips, but she gives it right back to Tia.
“I’m fifty-seven years old, Tia. I’d wager I know a lot more about ‘tube steak’” she makes air quotes with her fingers as she says ‘tube steak,’ “than you think I do.” My mother stiffens her back and continues washing the dish she’s been working on in the sink.
Tia is immediately silenced, eyes wide. She silently mouths the word, “Gross.”
“You asked for it,” I laughed and picked my knife back up to continue dicing.
***
We leave my parents the next day and head to the airport after my mother gives me another pep talk and tells me to look after Tia because she senses something off about her. My mother always worries about us. I promise her I will and promise to really think about my decision concerning Brandon.
I’m still a little thrown by my mother’s confession, but I appreciate what she was trying to do. A part of me thinks, it was just a kiss Sophia. You can’t end a marriage over a kiss. My marriage hasn’t been perfect, but we have loved each other, we’ve been happy together. Walking away seems so selfish in a way. I know he’s the one that did me wrong, but I also believe he’s sorry.
But then the other part of me, the part that’s hurt and maybe jealous, says how can you stay with him or ever trust him again? How can I not drive myself crazy worrying about what he’s doing when he works late? No matter what, I’m not going to take him back telling him I forgive him when I don’t. That whole, I can forgive, but never forget, saying is a crock of shit in my opinion. Especially in a situation like this. If I take Brandon back, it will be because I forgive him, and I will not let the awful memory of him kissing that woman haunt me for all my days. That’s w
hat I want to do, truly.
I just don’t know that I can.
Of course, how could I break up my family? Our daughters would be devastated. I take my mother’s words and try to remember that she meant well, but in a way I feel more confused. She said it would be hardest for me. I know she’s right, but I wonder what my father would say about it all. Not that I’d ever discuss it with him, but I wonder if because he had experienced it from my point of view, although it sounds like maybe my mother went quite a bit further than Brandon, which the thought of my mother having sex with another man makes me cringe, maybe my Dad would tell me he had no regrets. Maybe he would? That’s a silly thought. My father would never tell me he regretted forgiving my mother, even if it is how he feels. I can’t imagine he’d think that way anyway. I never even knew they ever had problems.
Four hours later we’re on a plane headed to Puerto Vallarta, Mexico. Tia arranged our flights and paid for everything. Her only demand, I not ask any questions. Easier said than done. Tia stares out the window as I sip a Bloody Mary hoping to ease my nerves. I have no idea why I feel nervous or anxious, but I do. I open the last email I received from Brandon on my phone and read it: “Be Careful.” That’s all he said and then he was short on the phone with me. Maybe Tia’s right about him getting out and having a good time and that’s why he doesn’t seem to care about me traveling.
“Hey, do you remember that time you brought Brandon down to Mamaw and Papa’s river place before you guys got married?” Tia asks pulling me from my thoughts.
“Yeah.” I nod. “It was the Fourth of July. He asked me to marry him that weekend.” My grandparents on my mother’s side own an amazing river front property in Virginia. Tia and I spent many summers there boating and swimming.
“Well, I never told you this, but I was in the boat house when you two were getting it on.”
“Really?” I sort of laugh unsure of how to respond.
“Yeah. I watched you guys have sex,” she adds as she takes my drink from the tray in front of me and sips it.
“Okay. That’s a little weird.”
“Well, I had a joint and I snuck down there in the middle of the night to smoke it. Right before I lit it, I heard footsteps so I hid behind the boat. You two barreled in ripping each other’s clothes off and I was too afraid to say anything to stop you so I watched.” She shrugs casually.
“Tia!” I tsk. “You were like what, twelve? And smoking a joint?”
She quirks a brow at me. “So?” Tia has smoked pot since I can remember. She says it keeps her mellow. I’m not a fan of it myself since all it does is make me want to eat everything in sight and pass out, but I can see its appeal for Tia. She’s high strung and pot helps her calm down a little bit.
“Oh God, Tia,” I groan. “You were down there smoking a joint and then caught me having sex. I completely failed you as a big sister,” I sigh grabbing my drink back from her and taking a big gulp.
“Honestly, Phi. This is going to sound really weird, but you never looked more beautiful.” Her gaze meets mine as her head lays back against her seat. I have no idea how to respond to her so I say nothing. My little sister watched me have sex and thought I looked beautiful. What am I supposed to say to that? “Okay, I’m not into incest or anything.” She rolls her eyes. “I’m saying you had so much passion. You guys were clawing at one another and moaning and I couldn’t wait to have sex because it looked so fucking amazing.”
“Sex was amazing with Brandon.” I nod, darting my eyes away from her. Just the memory of that night makes my chest squeeze. I stare down at the drink in my hand.
“And now?” she asks.
“Now, we’re married and have kids and the sex is good, but it’s not like what you saw. We were addicted to each other then, now we’re…” I pause.
“Comfortable?” she questions, and her face scrunches as if the word tastes bitter on her tongue as she says it.
“Yeah. That’s one word you could use,” I reply meekly. I hate the way she said the word comfortable, like it was a word used to describe failure. Marriage should be comfortable, maybe not as comfortable as mine has been recently, well before the kiss, but in some parts it should be comfortable.
Tia pats my hand gently where it sits on the arm rest between our seats. “What happened, Phi?”
I want to answer her, but it’s embarrassing to tell my little sister things like this especially when I’m always lecturing her about how she needs to settle down. My sales pitch is real strong. Hey Tia, get married so you can live comfortably. It wasn’t always that way, but when things seemed to fizzle out in our sex life, I took that as what happened to every married couple. But maybe I shouldn’t have because as time went on, our romantic life almost vanished. Sure, there were the occasional gestures like on our anniversary Brandon would send me roses, and I’d cook his favorite dinner and wear something sexy when we went to bed, but it was like we were programmed, scheduled to do it. We lost the spontaneity.
“It’s part of getting older, Tia. I know you’re still young and single and life’s a party, but we have responsibilities and kids and…” Lots of excuses is what I want to say. All of those things have factored into it, but are they the real reason things have in fact gotten so comfortable?
Our sex life was phenomenal before marriage and the kids when we were carefree and had no responsibilities other than school. But as the years passed, sleep became priority when I was up all night with babies and work became his life as he climbed the ladder. It wasn’t always like that though. We used to crave each other. I had never felt so wanted in my life than I did when Brandon touched me.
***
For our first date, he picked me up at seven on the dot. I couldn’t believe he spent four hundred dollars just to do a body shot off me. I figured he at least deserved a chance after that, and I couldn’t deny the way he seemed so nervous at the lake the day we met was adorable. Brandon was attractive and my body instantly reacted to him in that physical pheromone sort of way, where even though my mind was screaming, ALERT! ALERT!, my body was urging me to tackle him to the ground and have my way with him. He was tall and lean, broad shoulders with dark hair and eyes. He wore his hair a little long and it hung over his eyes a bit, but he was rugged and handsome.
In spite of my body/mind conflict, I looked forward to our first date, but I was still reluctant. It was easy to see he could pretty much get any girl he wanted, and I would not be another conquest for him. If he wanted me, he’d have to earn me. I was no angel back then and by no means a virgin, but I didn’t sleep around. Sex meant something to me. Yes, I loved the physical aspect of it, a lot, but if my heart wasn’t in it, I couldn’t do it.
“So you got the hots for this guy, huh?” My roommate Jill asked as she gazed at me over the rim of her glasses. Her purple terrycloth bath robe was tied around her tightly and her brown hair was up in a knot on top of her head. She was spending the night in to study, unusual behavior on her part since it was the weekend.
I gave her a quick glance before applying my mascara in front of our bathroom mirror. “I mean he’s cute.” I shrugged nonchalantly. Cute was putting it mildly so when she snorted at my casual compliment of him, I wasn’t surprised.
“I’ve heard he gets around.” Jill gave me a pointed look, and I avoided acknowledging it. I heard that about him as well over the last few days when I asked a few of our friends about him. The rumors didn’t exactly reflect positively on him, but I agreed to this date and I would go through with it. Besides, I had fallen victim to the rumor train my freshman year when Doug Trent told everyone he banged me in the bathroom at a frat party. In truth, I was drunk and made out with him in said bathroom, but that was all. I quickly gained a swarm of young horny college guys thinking I was an easy target for a lay. It took well in to my sophomore year and a serious boyfriend that lasted six months, for the rumor to fizzle out. I hoped maybe Brandon’s reputation was more rumor than truth, but something told me it most likely wasn’t.
“Don’t worry, Jill. I know what I’m doing.” I smiled at her faintly.
I have no idea what I’m doing.
With a slight nod, a curve of her mouth that made me think she didn’t believe me for one second, she spun around and plopped down on our worn out couch and picked up her book. I was impressed she didn’t say more, push me to cave in that I, too, was worried, but she didn’t.
When he knocked on our door, Jill looked up from her book and gave me pointed look. “Let’s hope he’s better in bed than at volleyball.”
“I’m not going to sleep with him,” I whispered as I approached the door hoping he didn’t hear what she had said. When I opened the door, Brandon grinned and something fluttered in my stomach. There was something about him that made me giddy, a charm he had. No doubt it was that charm that landed his past conquests. Keep it together, Soph. “Hi.” I opened my door a little more and stepped to the side to let him in.
“You look beautiful,” he noted as his eyes ran up and down my body. As he passed by me, the flutter I felt only seconds before tripled. Son of a bitch! Get your shit together, Soph!”
Jill let me borrow her yellow sundress because it could be casual or dressy if need be. I had no idea where we were going so it was a safe choice. “Did you find the place okay?” I brushed off my moment of butterflies and got down to business.
“Yeah, your directions were good.”
“Brandon this is my roommate Jill, Jill, Brandon.” I motioned between them and Jill smiled as she waved hi to him from her seat on our sofa.
“Nice to meet you.” Brandon nodded and shoved his hands back in his pockets.
“I wanted to thank you for helping us win the game the other day. We never beat Sophia’s team,” Jill teased, and I cut her a look.
“Oh, you were on the other side, huh?” Brandon shook his head as he chuckled. “Glad I could help.”