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“I didn’t mean to. It just happened.”
“I think having sex with men who aren’t your husband takes some intent.”
“It was only twice before Steve. I wasn’t happy. I needed more. I needed something for me.”
“So you cheated on your husband to get through the boredom of being a wife and mother. And when that wasn’t enough, you just left.”
“Can I have some water? Please?”
Avery walked into the kitchen, filled a glass from the tap. She stood a moment, eyes closed, breath even, until she felt she had her bearings.
Though she’d taken off the red coat, had it draped over her lap, Traci continued to sit, a tissue crumbled in one hand, tears on her lashes. “Thanks. I know you hate me.”
“I don’t know you.”
“I was there until you were almost twelve, Avery. I took care of you. I did my best.”
“Maybe it was your best. That’s very sad for both of us. But there’s been a lot of years between then and now. You never once wrote me, called me, came to see me. Not once.”
“I didn’t know if your father would’ve let me—”
“I told you to be careful. I won’t warn you again.”
“All right. All right.” Dropping her gaze again, she smoothed at the coat. “Maybe I didn’t feel like I could, or should. I just know I had to go, and I did it the wrong way. Willy B, he wanted us to go for more counseling. All that would do was string it all out even more. I didn’t love him, Avery. You can’t live your life without love. I know how he thought, I do. We should try to make it work. We had you to think of. But you were going to grow up one day, weren’t you? And then where would I be? Stuck here, and older. Older and stuck here, without any chance to live my life. I didn’t make Willy B any happier than he made me. What was the point?”
“You wanted out. Fine. You wanted to live your life. Fine again. There’s this thing called divorce. It’s hard, and I’ve heard it can be painful, tough on everybody. But it’s how it’s done in a civilized world where women don’t leave their husbands, children, their homes without a fucking word.”
“I just . . .” She sniffled again, set aside the glass she’d drained. “I was in love! When I met Steve, I felt so much. So much I’d never felt before. I couldn’t think about anything else. It was wrong, I know it was wrong, but I felt alive and happy. I know I did wrong. I know I should’ve been honest with Willy B instead of cheating on him. He didn’t deserve it, but, honey, he didn’t want what I wanted. I couldn’t be who he wanted me to be. And when Steve got a chance—a real business opportunity—down in Miami, he had to go. I had to go with him.”
“You’ve been in Miami.”
“At first. I was so caught up, and running away together, it seemed so romantic, so exciting. I knew your daddy would take good care of you.”
“Stop it. You never gave me a thought once you walked out the door.”
“That’s not true! I didn’t do right. I didn’t think right, but I thought about you. I was real proud when I heard you’d started your own place. It’s a good place, and I was real proud when I heard about it.”
Little warning bells rang in Avery’s mind. She hoped she heard only her own cynicism. “How’d you hear about it?”
“I looked you up on the Internet now and then. I did want to know how you were doing, honey. I can’t count the times I started to email you. And I was real sorry when I heard about Tommy Montgomery. He and your daddy were like brothers. I know Justine didn’t like me much, but she was always nice to me. I felt bad for her.”
“That’s your level of motherly interest? The occasional Google?”
“I was wrong. I don’t expect your forgiveness. I guess I just hoped you’d understand a little.”
“What difference does it make what I understand at this point?”
“I thought maybe you’d give me a chance, so we could get to know each other again, and—”
“What happened to Steve? The love of your life.”
Traci’s face crumpled. Sobbing again, she dug for more tissues. “He—he died. In November. He just died. We’ve been together all this time. We traveled all over, for his work, you know? He had his flaws, sure, but I loved him, and we were happy. Now he’s gone, and I’ve got nobody.”
“I’m sorry. I am. But I can’t fill that gap for you. I won’t. You made your choices. You have to live with them.”
“I don’t know how to be alone. Can’t I just stay here a little while. A couple weeks?”
“Here?” Sincerely shocked, Avery gaped. “Absolutely not. You don’t walk back after, what, seventeen years of nothing and get an open door. You’ll have to figure out how to go on living your life. You’re not a part of mine anymore.”
“You can’t be that cold.”
“I can,” Avery corrected. “Maybe I came by it naturally.”
“Just a couple weeks, is all. I don’t know what to do, where to go.”
“Something else, somewhere else.”
“I’m still your blood, Avery.”
“You’re the woman who chose to abandon me and ignore me for more than half my life. Now you’re alone, so you show up. And that’s why you showed up—not to get to know me, or whatever other lame excuse you have for it.”
And God, the certainty of that made her tired.
“That comes under the heading of still thinking of yourself, first, last, always. I’ve listened to you, now I’m done. You have to go.”
“I don’t have anywhere to go.”
“It’s a big world. Take your pick.”
“If I could just stay the night. One night—”
“You’re broke,” Avery realized.
“We had some . . . financial reversals. Things got tough, okay, and I could just use a little help getting back on my feet.”
Everything, everything coalesced on that single, ugly point. “God, who are you? Money? You’re serious? You want money from me?”
“I’ll pay you back. If you could lend me a few thousand, just to tide me over.”
“If I had a few thousand to spare, I wouldn’t give it to you.”
“You own your own business.” Traci gestured toward the shopping bag. “You can shop in fancy stores. You can spare me some, just as a loan. Don’t make me beg, Avery. Please don’t make me beg, ’cause I will. I’m in trouble.”
Grabbing her purse, Avery yanked out her wallet, pulled the bills out without counting. “There. That’s it. That’s all you get, now, all you get ever. Now get out, and stay out of my life. I don’t want to see you again.”
“You don’t know what it’s like to be alone, to have nobody.”
“You’re right. My father saw to that.” Avery went to the door, opened it. “I said get out.”
Traci walked to the door, paused. “I’m sorry,” she said.
Avery shut the door, locked it, leaned back against it. When the shaking started she let herself slide down to the floor. She listened to the footsteps echo away down the stairwell before she let herself weep.
* * *
SHE MADE EXCUSES to postpone her date with Owen. A change in schedule, too much to do, keeping it in a text so she didn’t have to actually speak with him.
Stupid, she knew, but she didn’t feel ready to put on a happy face, mask over all the misery, the doubts, and the grinding anger.
She didn’t want to talk to anyone, so she avoided her friends, buried herself in work. But in small towns, friends tended to dig.
She glanced up from building a gyro as Owen walked in. She sent him a quick nod, what she hoped came off as a harried smile as he slid onto a stool at the counter.
“How’s it going?”
“Busy. I’ve barely had time to catch my breath the last couple days.”
“So you said. Maybe you’ve got time to catch it now, take a break.”
“I’m swamped.”
“Really?” Swiveling on the stool he scanned the early lunch customers, counted two tables.
“I’ve got to take inventory,” she decided on the spot. “Glassware’s taken some hits.” Change the subject, she told herself. “How’s it going across the street?”
“It’s going. I thought you’d come over, take a look for yourself.”
“I will, as soon as I can carve out a little time.” She slid the gyro in, shoveled out a pizza. “What can I get you?” she asked as she sliced it.
“The gyro looked good.”
“Guaranteed.”
He went over, got himself a cold drink, took his seat again. “Is everything okay with you?”
“Well, I could use a break in the weather and a couple extra hours in the day. Otherwise? All good.”
“Avery.”
The tone forced her to look up, meet his eyes. “What? It’s a busy time, Owen. You know how it goes.”
“Yeah, I do know how it goes. That’s why I’m asking.”
“And I’m telling you I’m fine. I’ve got to run this place. I’ve got to find a new delivery guy since I caught the one I just hired smoking a joint in the basement. I’m refining my business plans for the new place, have to decide on lighting, furniture, perfect the menu, help Hope throw a bridal shower for Clare. My car needs new tires, and my rep just told me cheese is going up.”
And when she unreeled it that way, she decided she had every reason in the world to be impatient and stressed.
“I just don’t have time to make you dinner and play right now.”
“I got that, and it’s not what I’m talking about.”
“Then there’s nothing to talk about. I’ve got stuff to do. That’s it, that’s all.”
