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Automatically, I stand, back rod-straight. Whether they see me or not is no longer a factor because I march across the lawn after them.
“Carrie,” I hear tailing me.
Horrified, bewildered, disgusted, I watch my father, the man I’ve always counted on to give me the unvarnished truth, grin at the woman who abandoned us. Without thought, I make a beeline for them. I don’t know why, but I’m not really thinking right now. I’m pissed and I want answers.
“What are you doing here?” I snap when I reach the bottom of the porch stairs.
Startled, they spin around to face me. Dad blanches, his face going from surprise to guilt. But Zelda? She’s as nonchalant as ever. Not a care in the world. So typical.
She smiles softly. “Carrie, hi sweetie––”
“Save your pet names.”
“I’ve been trying to reach you.”
“Yeah, I know,” I tell her. “That’s why I don’t answer my phone. Why is that hard for you to understand?”
I can’t be nice right now. I’m much too angry to be rational. Besides, when someone doesn’t call you back, isn’t it obvious that you’ve been canceled?
“Dad?” My accusing glare shifts between the two of them. My father looks like a kid caught with his hand in the human cookie jar.
He runs a hand through his gray hair and sighs. “What do you want me to say, Carrie?”
“I want you to remember that this woman left us.”
Dad winces and Zelda frowns. “Gene, don’t let her speak to you like that.”
“Why are you even here? Haven’t you wreaked enough destruction in his life? I mean, I know destroying people is your bloodsport but can’t you find someone else to torture?”
“Carrie…” Jake takes me by the bicep and I shake him off.
“No.”
Zelda steps forward and I take note of the changes. The muted hair, the absence of heavy makeup and Botox. The clothes…for shit’s sake the clothes are laughable. It’s like she’s trying to play the part of dutiful country wife.
“I know this is going to be hard for you to hear, but I still care very much about your father…” Pausing, she glances back at Dad. “I never stopped loving him.”
I’m about to lose my mind. For once, Zelda looks unsure, and it emboldens me. “You have got to be fucking kidding me!”
“Carrie! You know I hate that language,” Dad, the bastion of moral rectitude chimes in. The one who has been sneaking round for who knows how long.
“How long have you been seeing her?” Silence. A sneaking suspicion worms its way in. “You’ve been seeing each other for weeks, haven’t you? Maybe months. I’m pretty sure I saw you at the grocery store.”
No one says a word. But there’s plenty of awkward to pass around.
I glance over my shoulder, at Jake, whose expression turns somewhat sheepish. He scratches the back of his neck and breaks eye contact. “That’s why you picked me up that night at Regina’s bar. Don’t bother answering.”
I turn my ire back on my mother. “Remember when you were a lesbian?”
“Bisexual, honey. And I still am.”
“Dad!”
“You can’t help who you love, Carrie,” my father says, trying to justify Zelda’s betrayal while looking frustrated and upset. That’s no easy task and yet he manages it. I cannot believe how cavalier he’s being about this. About a woman who cheated on him repeatedly.
“Even if that person occasionally loves other women!” My face is on fire, my buns coming undone.
“I never loved Joan,” Zelda replies, inserting herself again. “But I did care for her. And will forever be grateful that she assisted in my self-actualization––”
“Gahhh! That’s even worse! You’re a sociopath,” I scream at the night sky. “I…I can’t with this steaming pile of garbage right now!”
Turning, I walk away, heading for the quiet refuge of the Austen. That woman’s mind was a treasure. She had the foresight to know we would all need to escape reality from time to time.
I’m about to take the porch steps two at a time when I pivot and head for the lake instead. I need to feel something other than burning rage.
Although it’s almost the end of May, it’s far from warm. In fact, I’m still wearing a winter jacket most of the time. The only one immune to the cold seems to be Jake.
Doesn’t matter. I’m red hot mad and no amount of cold can touch this. I reach the edge of the lake and don’t stop, some invisible force drawing me in. Kicking off my Golden Goose sneaks without breaking stride, I walk straight into the frigid lake.
“Carrie!” The sound reaches me and drowns as I dunk my head under water, my entire body convulsing from the near freezing temperature. The oxygen in my lungs turns solid. That’s what it feels like. I feel turned to stone.
A strong hand grips my arm and yanks me up, the motion jarring and painful. I break the surface and take a deep gasping breath. Under oath, I would swear both my lungs collapsed. That’s how painful it is to breathe.
