STEALING IT

by Robinson, Rachel

  The light post beckons our arrival, but I need to tell Magnolia I want to stay out here in the blackness, with her heartbeat, a little longer. Feel this unknown peace, taste it, familiarize myself with it. “It’s such a nice night,” Magnolia whispers into my ear. “Do you see the moon?”

  My heart stops beating for a moment, and she feels it, too. She must. I let her slide off my back and bring her back against my front as we sit in the sand. A contented sigh escapes her lips and I do my best to rein in my emotions. “It’s almost a full moon,” I reply. “There is a tiny sliver missing.”

  “I don’t know,” Magnolia returns. “It looks full to me.”

  She doesn’t know what she’s stirring, what she’s fixing, how she’s forming a person who has never really existed before this very moment.

  _______________

  “Get your ass off the bed you weak, little fucker,” he roars. I cover my ears because it hurts me. The words and the tone. My stomach hurts as I scramble off the bed in a sleepy haze, and retreat under the wooden table in the corner of my bedroom. It’s the furthest point from my bedroom door where he’s standing in blackness.

  “So-so-sorry, Daddy,” I stammer, wrapping my arms around my knees, the cold wall stinging my bare skin. He fell asleep and my back was hurting while I slept on the floor. I thought I could sneak into the bed without him knowing. I’d be back on the floor before he woke in the morning. The trick has worked in the past. “I’m sorry. I’ll stay here. Please.” I plead with him even though I know he’s going to beat me. It will only hurt for a few hours and I’ll try not to make the same mistake again. It’s hard to remember what he doesn’t like me to do. There are so many things. Mommy is already sleeping. She sleeps a lot. Most of the day and all night long. I get to see her after school on occasion. Sometimes she’ll even smile at me and pat my head. She kissed my cheek on my birthday last year, maybe she’ll kiss me again soon.

  Daddy beats me, pulls my pants down and uses the thick, black belt. He misses my behind and the crack stings my back. I think of her kiss, though. It keeps me from crying. Daddy doesn’t like tears either. “Tears are weak,” he says. Sleeping in beds makes me weak. I need to be a man. A strong man. He leaves the bed in my room as a temptation, he says. So I can control myself and make the right choices. I want to be a strong man. A big man. I want Mommy’s kisses. I sleep on the floor.

  A tear sneaks out when the lash hits my side instead of my back. It hurts the worst when he misses and gets the tender skin. The teardrop hits the tile floor and I close my eyes so no more tears will come out. Daddy will be mad. Tears are for girls. For people who can’t control their emotions. Mommy never comes in. I think that’s why Daddy is so mad. I don’t want him to hit her, though. I’d rather he hit me because I can handle it. She can’t. She’s too tired. I’m a man.

  He screams at me now that he’s finished with the belt. I can tell when he’s done because he’s out of breath and his arm shakes. “You are a pathetic excuse for a son. Do you hear me? You are a weak son of a bitch who will never be a fucking man. I’ll never be able to make you a fucking man if you don’t obey me you little fuck. Do you understand me, Aidan? I’m doing this to make you a better man.”

  I stand, but my legs are shaky, and my skin feels like fire. “Yes, sir,” I say, keeping my voice loud and proud, like a strong man. “It won’t happen again.”

  “You say that and yet it does. Time and again. Can you not handle the temptation? Are you that weak??” he asks.

  I shake my head.

  “Answer me verbally, you little pussy.”

  “No, sir,” I say, getting angry with myself for forgetting. Again. Maybe I’ll never be a strong man. I can’t remember. I close my eyes and tick through all of the things that will make me a man. I want my mommy’s kiss. I can’t stop thinking about it.

  “Lay down,” he yells. I flinch but pretend it is part of the motion of hitting the floor. I tuck my head on my hands and slam my eyes shut. Daddy leaves, but he’s still here. All over my skin. I sniffle once, and tears leak out onto the tile, my tile bed.

  Mommy.

  Mommy.

  I want you.

  Mommy.

  Kisses.

  Save me.

  Chapter Eight

  Magnolia

  I PICKED UP KENDALL from the high school and now I’m sitting at the kitchen table, swirling a glass of red wine while Jenny gives me the latest gossip. “Did you know it was three guys, not two? He didn’t even know until after the divorce.” Jenny’s playing her favorite game of seek and tell.

  “I think something is up with Aidan,” I butt in, changing the direction of our conversation completely. “Before you say I told you so, I want you to know that’s not what I mean. Like, we could have had dirty, furious sex at his house and instead we ended up sitting at the beach talking. For an hour. He held me in his arms.”

  “Woah, like you think this might be super real, like legit, put a ring on it, super real?” Jenny asks, draining her wine. Kendall and Juliet filter into the room for their popcorn that just finished popping, talking about some sort of ponytail holder they saw on Instagram. Jenny and I stay silent, waiting for them to disperse. I haven’t been completely honest with her about my feelings for Aidan. Until recently, I wasn’t honest with myself about my feelings for Aidan. Now, not only am I confident I’m falling for him, I think the falling might have already happened.

  “Super, legit real, Jenny. I wasn’t expecting anything more than maybe exclusive casual dating, but he seems to be all in. It’s hard to be sure because it’s just been Paul for me, but I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this before,” I say, tilting my wine glass to watch the wine dance around, my mind spinning future possibilities that make me giddy. “I told you about the night at Magnolia’s Steals how he talked to me about the affair, and Paul, and everything.”

  “And the wild, hot sex you had after,” Jenny adds, hissing it under her breath. “You told me.”

  I hold my pointer finger against my lips. “Keep your voice down. I haven’t told Kendall anything. And I definitely don’t want those images in her head.”

  Jenny widens her eyes. “You can’t fall in love without telling her, Magnolia. Give the kid a heads up before new daddy waltzes in and rocks her world. She’s almost an adult. I think with the history with Paul, you need to be completely honest with her. What if she freaks out? You told her you were dating, right?” Kind of. In really loose terms I wasn’t sure she’d understand.

  “Yeah, I told her you wanted me to go on coffee dates and like, make friends with men and women my age to expand my horizons.”

  Jenny shakes her head, her lips pressed into a duckbill. “You need to come clean.”

  “I don’t want her to think she won’t be my number one priority, you know? Will she feel abandoned? I don’t think bringing another man into her life is smart. Why not wait until she’s moved out?”

  Jenny snarls, “Please tell me your plan for this then? Keep the man a secret until she goes to college and then say surprise here’s your new daddy!”

  I shrug. “That is a horrible idea,” she continues, “An idea I doubt Aidan would agree to anyways. Does he not want to meet her?”

  I think about what he said tonight, about how I was essentially meeting his family by meeting his SEAL teammates, and the guilt hits me square in the chest. “This is different. It’s tricky with Kendall. She’s still so sensitive. I’d cut it off now if I could, but I think I’m in too deep.”

  Jenny smiles. “This is rich, Magnolia. You are so in love with this bad boy. At least introduce me to him.” She pours herself more wine, her third glass.

  “You staying over tonight then?” I tease.

  “I wasn’t planning on it, but this is too good. Drink up. We have things to discuss.”

  Shaking my head, I smile. “Want to meet him? Maybe we can meet for dinner this week. I can have him bring a friend.” I waggle my brows.

  “Hell to the n
o. Don’t entangle me in this testosterone induced mess. I have a date with Harry, the plumber, on Friday. He’s a nice, stable man. Doesn’t even have kids!”

  I snort. “Fine. Fine. I just can’t describe what I felt tonight,” I say, floating back to the beach, his arms wrapped around me. For a few moments, I forget the world existed outside of our moment. It was ethereal. The moon, the waves. The sound of his voice. The beats of his heart against my back, a steady symphony.

  “Sounds like falling in love,” Jenny says, taking a sip, eyeing me over the rim.

  “I’d challenge that, but I’m not sure you’re wrong. It never felt like this with Paul. It always just was. This is different. I feel like it’s a story I’m actually a part of, not one that was predestined because of the circumstances. It’s mine. Ours.”

  “God, that’s deep, Magnolia. I might want a piece of this, after all. Are all of his friends whores too?”

  Rolling my eyes, I remember meeting them earlier. “Kind of. Some ooze whore more than others. They’re also good at trying not to ooze whore, so it could be an act. I think you have to get to know them first and you can gauge for yourself.” Jenny is a beautiful woman, but like me, she’s been single for a long time. The difference is, she’ll go on a date every once in a while. The dates never escalate into anything else, and then she begins back at square one. She calls it harmless hunting.

  “Mom,” Kendall pops her head into the room. “Can we go down to the beach? Sandy Beach,” she says, clarifying. It’s right down the path, past the docks a bit. It’s small, but sometimes there are parties there.

  “It’s late, honey. Why didn’t you go earlier?” I ask.

  Juliet pops her head in. “Come on, Mom. Just a quick bike ride and we’ll be back before eleven.”

  “What’s down there?” I ask.

  Jenny clears her throat. “Who is down there?”

  “A few of the girls on the cheer squad,” Juliet explains. “They’re just hanging out.”

  “Hanging out is code for underage drinking and boys,” I interrupt. Jenny punches a fist in the air in agreement. “I’ll keep the tracker on your phone if I agree,” I say.

  “That’s fine. Keep the tracker on. That’s where we’re going. I wouldn’t lie to you, Mom. No boys or alcohol. I promise.” In an effort to give her a tiny bit of freedom, I make my decision. I glance at Jenny and can tell she’s arrived at the same decision I have.

  “Be back in an hour. Make sure the batteries on your bike lights are fully charged.”

  “Yes,” Kendall squeals loudly, clapping her hands. “A nighttime bike ride is going to be so fun!” Kendall runs over and kisses my cheek as Juliet hugs her mom and they bound out the back door.

  “It’s safe, right?” Jenny asks.

  “It’s less than half a mile,” I counter. “They’re going to be in college all on their own before we know it.”

  “It’s late,” she says.

  I shrug. “They are teens. This is teen stuff.” I pull my phone out of my purse hanging over the chair next to me and pull up the family tracking app. “We’ll watch them ride there and back.”

  “And while they are there?” Jenny says.

  “We trust them to use decent judgment,” I reply. I don’t say good judgment, I say decent. Good comes later, when you’ve been burnt a few times and can rationalize. Decent won’t get you pregnant. My stomach sours at the thought.

  “Maybe Kendall will use the same judgment as her mom,” Jenny quips as if reading my mind.

  “Ha. Ha. You’re an awful friend,” I say, rising from my chair, cell in hand. “Want to help me make a board. You cut the cheese, I’ll find crackers.” Jenny agrees, her excitement for food paired with her wine, effervescent. We chat about mundane things while we eat, both of us watching the Kendall dot arrive at the beach.

  “Technology really is a beautiful thing,” Jenny says, stuffing her face with a cracker. “What did we do without it?”

  I can’t remember. It’s been that long, and that’s embarrassing given what I do for a living. I offer a weak joke about being old and continue my cellphone stare down. Trust. I need to trust her. If I give her trust, she’ll return it and maybe I can be honest about Aidan and my feelings for him. Or maybe I wait a few more months to see how things unfold and if things blossom like I’m positive they will, then I’ll tackle that conversation. I’m giving myself easy outs. It’s disconcerting.

  Jenny’s brutal question brings me to the present. “Did you call Paul about the wedding yet?”

  I exhale deeply. “I should do it now,” I reply. “I didn’t want to be wrapped up in my own emotions when I called. That’s not fair. It’s hard being diplomatic when I want to call and scream at him like a rabid bear.” I focus on my breathing.

  “Call him now. I want to hear,” Jenny says, eyes widening.

  “You are such a gossip monger. You know you can’t tell anyone, right? This is my business and I don’t want Bronze Bay talking about my life.”

  “That’s offensive. You’re my best friend. It won’t leave the room.”

  I set a hand on her shoulder. “My best friend who likes gossip. Give me your phone,” I say, holding out my hand. “Watch the Kendall and Juliet dot while I call Paul.”

  She claps giddily and hands over her phone. I don’t need a reference to remember Paul’s cell phone number. He hasn’t changed it and right now I wish he had—wish I had to look it up instead of recalling by memory. Swallowing hard, I hit call and wait. He answers on the first ring, an uneasy, questioning tone.

  “Hey Paul, it’s me,” I reply.

  “Hey Maggie,” he says. I cringe but don’t correct him because it’s not worth it, not when I have bigger fish to fry.

  Clearing my throat, I focus on the end goal and what I want out of this call. “Kendall isn’t comfortable going to your wedding.”

  “Goddammit, why can’t you talk to her? Tell her I’m not a bad guy?” His reply is hissed, and that only serves to stoke my fury.

  “Listen, Paul, I don’t tell her how to feel. Despite what you might think, she’s almost an adult, more mature than her peers because of what she’s been through…what she’s seen,” I sling, hoping to hit him where it hurts. “She makes her own decisions. I told her to call and apologize for the mean things she said about her. I parent her. I don’t tell her how to think.”

  “Pamela. Her name is Pamela. Come on, at least dignify the woman who will be Kendall’s stepmother by calling her by her name.” My whole body heats at the insinuation of that woman being any relation to my daughter. She almost single-handedly destroyed the innocence of my child.

  “I tried being nice, but Kendall will never refer to that woman as her stepmother. You ruined that chance when you fucked her on our dining room table knowing we were both in the house. Now before you think I’m holding some grudge, I want you to know I’ve moved on. Kendall won’t see me fucking him, Paul. She won’t. Because I’m an adult and I handle my relationships, all of them, with dignity and truth. I called to tell you Kendall will not attend your wedding. I called to tell you that you’re an asshole to think she would. I called to thank you for being a cheating bastard. If you hadn’t, I might still be trapped in a loveless marriage with a sub-par human who is self-centered and weak.”

  “Magnolia,” Paul trips on my name. “I’ve never heard you speak like that to me.”

  “There weren’t very many truths between us, were there? There wasn’t room for truth in our garden of lies.”

  He stays silent on the other end of the line and I hope he’s thinking of all of the years I was a good wife and mother, only loving and helpful, and careful with my words. “The truth hurts, but I’ve come to realize I can sell the past and buy a new, magnificent future. All it costs is acceptance. I accept that you were an awful husband. I accept that I didn’t see the signs. Kendall accepts that you aren’t a role model and that she will never be a respectable woman. The question remains if you can accept that,” I sa
y, my breaths speeding. It’s therapeutic to get it off my chest like this, not having to see his face which might make me weaker or influence my words.

  Paul coughs. “I don’t have a choice, do I?”

  “There is always a choice. You know that. You make all sorts of choices.”

  “That’s not fair.”

  “Life isn’t fair,” I say. “Tell her to mark down Kendall’s RSVP please.”

  “Yeah, yeah, Maggie. Yeah,” he says, defeated, his nasal tone telling me he’s finished with our conversation as it’s not going his way.

  “Oh, and Paul?”

  He grunts as his reply.

  “Congratulations on your impending marriage. I’m sure it will bring you nothing but happiness for the rest. Of. Your. Life.” I hang up the phone with a flourish.

  “You are a motherfucking champion, Magnolia Sager,” Jenny says, jumping up and down. “The girls are on their way back. Perfect timing.” She flashes the phone screen and the dot heading down our road. That’s the only relief I feel in this moment. “How good did that feel? I feel good for you!”

  I don’t feel strong. I feel weak because I’m just realizing if I’d done this sooner, I could have moved on, pieced my life back together, found Aidan sooner. “He’s upset.”

  “Are you really upset because he’s upset?” Jenny fires.

  I breathe out. It was just a realization. “I used to be. Not now. It’s odd not apologizing and trying to make things right. I do feel…good.” I hang my head, my coiled muscles relaxing now that conflict is finished. “Why didn’t I tell him that sooner? I stayed quiet for so long.”

  “Aidan. Your soulful, beefcake. It changes things when you care for someone, Magnolia, makes you realize the differences between what you thought your marriage was, and what it actually was. That’s how it was for me.” She swallows hard, setting her wine glass on the counter. “It doesn’t matter how long it took, all that matters is you made it to the other side. All the things you should have done and said, and known, won’t haunt you anymore.”

  I pick up my phone and see that the girls are back, parking their bikes beside the shed, the dot blinking right on top of our house. Peering out the window I see them chattering away, talking animatedly. “My only hope is one day she’s not haunted,” I admit, my voice low.