The Milestone Tapes

by Ashley Mackler-Paternostro

  “Noted.” Gabe smiled back, laughing lightly.

  As Jenna turned on the shower she realized, sometimes if you didn’t laugh, you’d cry. It was okay to laugh. That was another lesson she’d have to remember to pass on.

  ~ * * * ~

  The orange snap of a lighter caught Jenna’s attention out the window. The smell of sulfur and thick cigarette smoke snuck through the open window of her office. Looking out, she saw Sophia, settled on a rocking chair looking out towards the bay.

  Jenna cinched her robe around her waist and hustled out the door. It was nearly three in the morning. Sophia was leaving in only a few hours, homebound to South Carolina. Jenna thought she’d be asleep.

  “Sophia?” Jenna hissed crossing the damp lawn quickly, her bare feet slipping on the neatly trimmed grass. “Are you smoking?”

  Sophia turned, startled by the quick approach, and attempted to tuck the cigarette behind her arm.

  “No!” Sophia guiltily protested, faux resentment of the accusation leaking from her voice.

  “Don’t you lie to me! I can smell it! I can see it” Jenna’s hands balled into fists rested on her hips, challenging her sister, thrusting her head in the direction of the faint whirl of bluish smoke drifting upwards.

  “Oh, sweet Jesus, stop being such a hall monitor! Yes, I’m smoking and I’m also an adult and I also consent to this,” Sophia produced the cigarette, taking a long drag, causing the butt to erupt in fiery red, burning away the paper releasing the pungent scent of tobacco into the early morning air.

  “Well, at least you’re honest,” Jenna relented, sitting down beside her sister in the matching chair. “What are you doing out here?”

  “I couldn’t sleep.” Sophia pulled on the end of the cigarette, blowing skillful smoke rings into the crisp air.

  “Well, that’s obvious. Is everything okay?” Jenna searched.

  Sophia had been nothing short of wonderful to Jenna, Gabe and most of all, Mia. The rocks of their relationship seemed to have smoothed considerably over the expanse of the summer.

  “I can’t turn my mind off,” Sophia dismissed.

  “Alex?”

  “Yes and no, but primarily yes,” Sophia allowed.

  Alex was nearly a forbidden topic of conversation, unwritten, but set in stone nonetheless. After Sophia had allowed for the candid honestly, she locked the door. She claimed she only wanted to focus on Jenna, and that nothing was as important as that. But it was just below the surface that Jenna could tell Sophia was reeling from the dissolving of her marriage, and sending her back into it broke Jenna’s heart.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” Jenna asked, reaching for the pack of cigarettes and small lighter on the center table. She tapped one from the pack and lit it smoothly.

  “You really shouldn’t be smoking, Jenna.” Sophia glanced over at her, tsking her quietly.

  “I don’t think one will kill me,” Jenna retorted easily, dragging the menthol smoke into her lungs with a long pull.

  “That’s not even remotely funny!” Sophia glared at Jenna.

  “No, it’s not,” Jenna replied evenly, pulling in another shorter, drag. “But all the same, do you want to talk about it or are we going to just sit here?”

  “Okay, fine. I’ll talk.” Sophia smashed the wasted butt into the grass and kept her eyes on the blackened water of the sound. “The reason Alex and I separated wasn’t as simple as I made it sound.”

  Jenna looked out at the ocean, silently letting Sophia continue.

  “He has a girlfriend.” She spat the words like poison.

  “No!” Jenna gasped in horror, turning to her sister. Sophia’s face remained impassive, clinically removed.

  “Yes. For some time now, actually. Years, maybe. I don’t really know.” She lit another cigarette, and continued. “I’ve allowed it to go on because I didn’t want to hurt the boys; boys need their father. I figured that if I pretended it wasn’t the case, we’d all just be okay. If I didn’t make it hard on him, he’d never feel the need to choose between us and her, but Alex has decided he wants to start a life with this woman, so naturally, he needs a divorce.” She snorted out a bitter laugh.

  It made sense on some dysfunctional level. It explained his ongoing absence over the summer, not so much as a phone call, even to speak to his sons. He was off, playing house with another woman while Sophia and the boys fell into the out of sight, out of mind category. Her temper flared wickedly.

  “I worry how it will affect the boys. I’m going to be fine, but they’re just children.” Sophia shook her head in disbelief.

  “Children are resilient.” Jenna couldn’t think of something more to stay, a way to comfort her sister. Her words sounded false and brittle, even to her. But, she had nothing else to offer, her sister’s fears were her own. How did children rebound after the loss of a parent? This was something that had haunted her for years now, and she still had no wisdom on the matter.

  “That’s what they say, anyway.” Sophia lifted her cigarette to her lips, as a small smirk tugged at the corners in humorless mockery.

  The comment was loaded. Jenna could feel its sharp edges. Sophia wasn’t just talking about her boys anymore, she was talking about herself, too.

  She lowered her cigarette, turning her face in shock. “Oh Jesus, oh Jenna ... I’m sorry. I didn’t think, I didn’t mean that, shit! I’m sorry—Mia will be fine—this is different, not the same,” Sophia chastised herself, as if the conversation were playing on loop in her head, the words about a parentless child sinking in.

  “It’s okay, it’s okay!” Jenna pacified her sister. Jenna knew her sister didn’t mean anything malicious about it. Those were her fears, which were, of course, every bit as valid and real as Jenna’s own.

  “I’m sorry, that was so thoughtless,” said Sophia, grimacing in the dark. “What I should have said, was ... when a parent chooses to leave.” She stretched the word chooses out, placing emphasis on it.

  “I think it’s all sort of the same,” Jenna challenged. “It’s varying degrees of being left, by choice or by force, what does it really matter to a child?”

  “Maybe you’re right, maybe it’s all different degrees of feeling alone,” Sophia allowed.

  “And to be honest, I have no clue how kids deal with it. But I look at us, with Mom. Sure, we were older, but it was still hard. But, I like to think we did okay, we managed.” Jenna took her sister’s hand, squeezing it.

  “I resented you,” Sophia admitted, the words hanging in the air, thick like smoke.

  “I know that,” Jenna murmured.

  “Not because I didn’t love you, but because I did. You were out there in the world, making your way with things, off at college with your friends, living your life, and I was stuck at home in that house with her, taking care of her, Dad was a wreck. I just didn’t know where to put that sort of anger.”

  All summer they’d tipped toed around the irony of it. Patching a hole with putty but not addressing the reason the hole existed in the first place.

  “I’m so sorry Sophia.” Jenna wished she could say more, but she couldn’t.

  The truth was, Jenna had stayed away. She’d known what was going on back home in their little suburban bungalow nestled just outside Chicago. She could have transferred to a local college, or taken time off, but she didn’t. She had chosen to stay her course. Even now she wasn’t sure that she would do things a different way, given the chance. Her life’s path had brought her here. Her apology wasn’t for what she could have done different, but for what her choices cost her sister.

  “I know that.” Sophia sighed, a tone of acceptance in her voice. “I stopped being angry about that a while ago, honestly. Once I got out and was on my own, I it understood better.”

  “I just want you to know Soph, that I love you very, very much. That I’m sorry if I’ve ever hurt you or made you feel alone. And I am so grateful you came out here for the summer, really, I am.” Jenna brushed away a few stray tea
rs, trying not to think that in a few hours Sophia and her boys would be on a flight home, and she may never see her sister again. At least not in this way, not when they could talk and laugh. This would be their last real conversation of worth.

  ~ * * * ~

  “Jenna ... are you scared?” Sophia shook a cigarette from the pack, pursing it between her lips and holding the small flame from the lighter up to the end.

  “Every day. I look at Mia and my blood just runs cold. What’s going to happen to her? Who is she going to be when this over? I worry that she will never be able to find peace with this and that it will change her, not for the better. I look at Gabe and my heart just breaks. We were supposed to do this together, and I feel like this is so unfair to him, like he’s been cheated of an entire life, and that hurts me. But I am not scared for me. I was in the beginning, naturally, but this is so much bigger than me. Where I’m going, it’s peaceful, but what I’m leaving behind? That scares the hell out of me. So, I need you to promise me something, Soph, and I know it’s a lot, but it would everything to me … ”

  “Anything,”

  “Help Gabe. I know you’ve got your own stuff going on, and I don’t mean to burden you, but please. Mia’s a girl, she’s going to get her period and want to know about sex and makeup and have issues with friends, all the girly things, stuff that she might not want to go to Gabe with. I would love to know that she has you in her corner, that she can go to you with anything, and that you’ll be honest and straightforward and tell her the things she’s going to need to know.”

  “Jenna ... ”

  “I know it’s a lot to ask.”

  “Of course I’ll do whatever I can for her and for Gabe.”

  “Thank you Sophia, really, I mean that, thank you. I can’t tell you how much that means to me to know that they’ll have you.” Jenna placed her hand over her heart; it felt lighter in chest, like she could breath.

  “Always.”

  “I worry that I won’t understand the world she lives in. She’s just a baby now. She doesn’t know anything about anything, and by the time she does, everything I know will be different, it will mean different things to her. I can’t prepare her for that. But, I’m leaving her tapes.”

  “What to do you mean?”

  “I’m recording tapes for Mia. For big landmarks in her life when she’d need her Mom. I can tell her my stories, the things that no one else would know. I want her to feel connected to me, like I was a real person even if she can’t remember me.”

  “Oh, Jen, that’s amazing.”

  “Do you ever wish you had something like that from Mom?”

  “All the time. Especially now. I don’t think you ever outgrow needing your mother.”

  “I kind of figured that.”

  “I wish I could stay longer, Jen.” Sophia stomped out the butt of her cigarette, and took her hand. “As soon as I get the boys situated, I’m coming back. I don’t know how quickly that will happen, but as soon as it does, I’m here.” Sophia brushed away a few tears before stretching out low, digging her heels into the soft earth. “It really is beautiful here, Jenna, like a picture or something, almost perfection.”

  “It is, isn’t it? We’re lucky to have all of this.” Jenna followed suit, settling deeper in. “Do you want to go to the front of the house? Watch the sun come over the mountains?”

  “Here’s good.” Sophia held Jenna’s hand tightly in her own, squeezing it three times, once for each word, like their mother had: I love you.

  “You’re welcome anytime. I could have Gabe build you a house.” They collapsed in fits of laughter, shushing each other and giggling some more.

  “Jenna? Sophia?” Gabe appeared at the sliding door, looking disheveled and half-asleep.

  “Over here, babe,” Jenna whispered, holding up her hand.

  “Everything okay?”

  “Everything’s just fine. Just hanging out.” Jenna exuded nonchalance.

  “Okay, ‘cause it’s early.” Gabe padded across the yard, sloshing quietly over the dewy grass.

  “We’re just hanging out, talking, no big deal. Are you up now for the day?” Jenna asked, leaning slightly backwards, turning to face him.

  “Yeah, early morning. Do you girls want coffee or something?” Gabe came to stand behind Jenna, rubbing tenderly at her shoulders.

  “I’d love some. Soph?”

  “Sure.” Sophia smiled towards Gabe.

  “Were you smoking?” Gabe sniffed Jenna’s hair subtly, spotting the pack sitting obviously on the side table.

  “Guilty as charged.” Jenna raised her hands.

  “Nice,” Gabe laughed, sarcasm dripping from his voice as he turned back towards the house. “Two coffees, coming right up.”

  The sisters sat in companionable silence, the sounds of early morning nature creating the soundtrack for this moment.

  “So, are you packed up?” Jenna leaned back in her chair.

  “Yes, got everything done and laundered yesterday.” Sophia nodded, tapping another cigarette from the dwindling pack.

  “Can I do anything?”

  “Nothing. I think I’m pretty ready. We need to leave for the airport in a few hours.”

  “I don’t mean just now, I meant that in more general terms. What can I do?”

  “Honestly? I’m better prepared for this than you’d think. I’ve already hired an attorney, did it before I left for the summer. The house and business will remain mine, and he’ll keep what’s his. I think the word for this is amicable—we’re amicably ending our marriage.”

  “That’s good. I imagine it makes things easier, for you.”

  “In many ways yes. But it also makes it sadder, more surreal. A marriage that bore three children, a medical practice, a store, a beautiful home ... it can be taken apart like that.” Sophia snapped her fingers. “It takes so long to acquire those things and so little time to deconstruct them. It’s hard to wrap your mind around how quickly you can just pull that single thread and unravel it all. It makes me think about Dad. I wonder how he could do what he did, you know, just leave and never look back.”

  “I look at Gabe. He’s so strong, brave and steady, and sometimes I want to ask him ‘aren’t you tired yet? Tired of being so solid and selfless?’It’s hard to watch someone you love die, and yet he does it, every single day. I think it must have been that way for Dad. He chose differently. What he did, that was wrong, though.”

  “Do you ever wonder what happened to him? After he left? He’s never tried to contact me.” Sophia’s eyes were closed and her cheeks with wet with tears.

  “No. I really don’t. When Mia was first born, I thought about looking him up—hiring a private investigator and finding him, but I never did. Whatever his reasons for going, he stayed gone. I don’t know how you do that or how broken you have to be to think that’s the better way, but I figured he had his reasons. He wasn’t my father anymore, not the man I remember at least, and I decided that rather than dig into that and hurt myself more, I’d respect his wishes and let him go.”

  Sophia nodded slowly. “I still needed him.”

  “I know you did.”

  “I’m going to be okay,” Sophia whispered, more to herself than to Jenna, but now it was her turn, to squeeze three times.

  “Yes, Soph, you really are. It’s like Mom always said, and I tell myself this every day: be strong and be brave.”

  “You, too,” she whispered.

  “Coffee?” Gabe emerged from the house, two steam mugs in hand. He’d showered already, changed into a pair of faded blue jeans and a soft flannel button up. He smelt spicy and a fresh, his hair was still damp, glistening in the rising sun.

  “Thank you, kind sir.” Jenna kissed him lightly on the cheek, aware that she probably tasted along the lines of an ashtray.

  “All right, I have to run to the site. I’ll be back before you guys take off so I can say bye.” Gabe waved as he stalked off towards the house. “Kids will be up in a few, so you might
want to get dressed.”

  Jenna wrapped her hands around the warm cup, taking a long pull of the bitterly strong elixir.

  “I’m going to go get dressed, get the boys moving. I’d love to feed them before it’s too late, so they can eat lunch at Sea Tac. We have a long flight home.” Sophia stood up, picking at the discarded cigarette butts littering the yard.

  Jenna nodded in agreement, and watched her sister tiptoe carefully across the yard. The sun was up now, such as it, covered by thick threatening clouds, but the morning was beautiful. It looked different to her now.

  September

  Mia clamored into the kitchen, dumping a large bucket of colored pencils on the table from the craft corner. Jenna bent over the table, reading the instructions Mia’s teacher had sent home regarding the self-expression picture. She was asked to draw a picture of her family and write a few lines about them to share out loud with her class in the morning.

  Summer had wound down expectantly, and Mia had been overjoyed to return to school. The thrill of free days had run its course, and Mia seemed particularly taken with her new teacher. Excited about experimenting with homework, being seven now and in second grade boosted Mia’s confidence.

  Jenna had, predictably, gone all out for Mia’s birthday party celebrating the passing of time. The last birthday party she’d ever have with her daughter was bittersweet. Gabe had roped off the yard and Jenna had hired a petting zoo, supervised roasting marshmallows in the fire pit, pitched tents in the patch of land off the back and hosted an epic sleep over, complete with Ginny’s homemade apple cider donuts for breakfast. Jenna loved the sound of the children running wild in the back yard, squealing with delight as the goats snarfed feed from their hands. She had spent days gathering the silly string remnants that seemed to never be capable of being fully picked up.