The Wrong Sister (22 page)

She took the card. It felt weird although a little, tiny spark of interest burned inside her.

And anything that attracted her interest had to be good.

After the bell tinkled and the storefront door slipped shut, she glanced up and was startled to find Donny suddenly there, standing in front of her desk. He waved towards Jim’s retreating figure. “What was that all about?” His tone bordered on rude.

“Uh. Not sure. I think he just asked me out.”

“You think? Must not be very good at it then. Are you going?”

Donny’s eyes narrowed and his lips were pursed, as if he just ate a lemon.
Was he for real?
Where did he get off marching out there and interrogating her?

“I think. Maybe. I don’t know. I need to see how Ally and Kylie feel about it.”

“Well, what do you think? That they’ll feel good about it? Duh. The man isn’t their father. Of course, they won’t want him dating you. Think about it, Tracy.”

“Well, then again, maybe they’ll want me to be happy. Maybe they’ll think it’s okay if I spend an evening with someone my own age.”
Who isn’t my brother-in-law.
The snarky statement nearly slipped from her tongue.

“A man? Get real. They’ll hate it. You shouldn’t go.”

She stood up, pushing her chair out from behind her, and holding Donny’s gaze. “Is there something wrong with Jim? You always said what a nice guy he was.”

Donny frowned. “I guess, yeah. Nice enough as a client. But as a date?”

“You don’t really want to pursue this line of questioning do you? Vickie’s husband. Isn’t that you?”

He stared at her, and his expression seemed furious. Spinning on his heel, he nearly stomped into his office without another word.
What the hell?
He was angry she might go on a date? Screw him. He hadn’t been all alone for nine months, now had he? No. He had her sister around for six of those nine months. To talk to. And be with. To hug. To kiss. To have sex with. She had no one. Not even much adult conversation.

Except with him, of course.

****

“So what do you guys think?”

Tracy and her girls were sitting at their kitchen table, having dinner together. The dishes matched, the settings were complete, and the meal was nutritious. It was week number four of trying to find each other again. When they were without practice of one sport or another, the girls both helped her make the dinner. One set the table, and the other helped with the dishes. They all three sat down together, ate together as a rule again, and talked about their days. It started out awkward and stilted. It was hard to reconnect after so much grief and tragedy. It was also hard to sit at a family dinner with one chair empty, which was the reason they avoided it until then. But now it was time for them to quit avoiding the emptiness, and embrace the fact that there were still three occupied chairs.

It got easier and became like more of a routine until it felt normal. They had fun cooking together. Ally was good at it, although surprisingly, Kylie wasn’t. She often messed up the ingredients just by being too careless with what went where, and created a few disasters that resulted in lost minutes spent laughing.

That was new too. They laughed more often together and it too, became easier. They were friends and family and mother and daughters. She still parented them, but they collectively found a new spark that never existed before. Tracy always looked to Micah for advice and guidance in the past, allowing his opinions to control her life and the choices she made. Now, she sought the girls’ input and opinions.

She became more honest and real with them in ways she never had before. In ways that sometimes hurt and elicited more than one embarrassing conversation. The best reward for her honesty, however, was the three of them sharing a relationship she never dared to hope they’d have.

So she asked how the girls felt about her dating. One time. A date.

Ally pretended to convulse. “Gross. Ick. Really?”

Kylie kept quiet, and Tracy rolled her eyes at Ally’s theatrics. “Maybe I should do that next time what’s-his-name calls? Todd from English class?”

Ally’s face turned bright red, and she snapped her mouth shut. “Okay. Okay. So what? Like on a date?”

“Yeah, like on a date.”

“Ugh. I never thought I’d be discussing my mother going on a date with some guy I don’t know.”

Tracy immediately sobered. They had other moments too, when one of them brought up Micah. But instead of reacting as in times past, they talked it out. They got upset, and even cried when it was warranted. They confronted it now, however, instead of pretending it never happened or ignoring it. “I know. I never thought I’d be asking.”

“Do you want to?” Kylie asked, finally speaking up.

Tracy blew air out of her mouth and pondered Kylie’s question. Did she?
No. Yes?
Was it to prove she could? Most likely. But was that the worst thing in the world? “I think I should go just to start. You know, like taking a step forward.”

“It hurts,” Kylie said softly. Tracy leaned over the table and gripped her hand with a squeeze.

“It does. For me to, believe it or not. I never imagined I’d ever be contemplating this. Is it too much?”

Kylie looked at her plate and then back up at Tracy, shaking her head finally. “No. Not too much. It just feels weird.”

“So you can handle it?”

“Maybe. I’ll say I can. If it ends up that I can’t, will you still go?”

She nodded. “I think that’s a fair deal. If it makes you feel too weird or icky or bad, I won’t go. I won’t die if I don’t go. It doesn’t matter to me that much. This is more a test run than anything else.”

“I think it’s a test run for all of us,” Ally said, her tone sounding years older than her age.

“This whole new life of ours feels like that,” Kylie mumbled.

“Speaking of a new life, what do you two think you want to do? Stay here? Move? Aunt Gretchen liked the idea of us moving, and offered up her condo to use. She rents it out usually, but it would be easy enough to rent to us instead, if we’re interested. That would mean no yard to maintain, which I have to tell you, sounds really good to me. This place is a lot for me to handle alone, and especially trying to work now. It would mean—”

“No more Dad. No more lake. No more memories.”

“Yes. Is that good or bad?”

“I don’t know,” Kylie answered.

“Yeah, I don’t either,” Tracy agreed.

“I do. I think we should do it. This place is too big now. And I just expect him to be here, or coming home…” Ally interjected.

“I know. I agree. I have that same sensation. But what if moving doesn’t solve that? We can’t do this to escape reality.”

“But we can do this to be the new family you said we’re going to be,” Ally countered.

Tracy paused, scowling at her older daughter before a smile curled up her lips. “Damn. You’re good. Almost lawyer-worthy. You should consider it. I did say that. So what? You want to move? Kylie what do you vote?”

“I think I do too.”

Tracy leaned back in her chair, and her heart felt like it flat-lined in her chest. She never considered leaving. Not after she found out that her rotten, scumbag husband had secured her residence for her. There was never a time in her life when she ever considered she could possibly leave that house. But after losing every other speck and crumb of her life with Micah, why not this too? “Wow. Okay. I never really considered leaving here. But it would make a lot more sense than staying.”

“And it might make you feel better.”

“Yes, that too. Or worse. There were a lot of good things that happened here. You two. Raising you two was good here.”

Both girls nodded solemnly. “This will never be what I wanted to happen to us. I hope no matter what the future brings, you both realize and remember that. And mostly, I hope you always believe that,” Tracy said.

“We do, Mom. We know.” Ally spoke often for both of them, but this time, it was Kylie. And this time, it was Kylie who took her hand and squeezed as she said, “So sell the house and go out with the strange new man.”

The dry, funny, weird-ass words out of her younger daughter’s lips made their kitchen fill with convulsive, gleeful laughter at the extreme surrealism they all three now shared.

TRACY OPENED THE DOOR to her dinner date at precisely six o’clock. She was dressed and waiting for over an hour. She didn’t bother to hide or tinker around as if she weren’t anxious, when she was visibly desperate and nervous for so long. The girls decided they didn’t need to meet him, or watch the date happen. Tracy took them to her mother’s house. Her parents’ opinion about her having a date? They were kind of apathetic. They didn’t really seem to care either way. While her stomach churned in knots, her mother asked insipid questions, and described the latest quilt she was crocheting. Did Tracy notice that Julia’s hair was starting to darken and become more like her mother’s shade of blond? Tracy mumbled the appropriate interest. Then she got back into her car, remembering something Micah did for her. He made her parents’ seeming lack of interest in Tracy not hurt so dang much. But even now, on the brink of another monumental change in her lifestyle, they had no comments. Even disapproval might have been nice. It would have shown some kind of caring.

Jim pulled up into their driveway in a mid-sized truck. It was neat and clean. Did he wash it for their date? That would have been nice, to know. A man putting some effort out for her. Jim approached the door with an easy, confident gait that suggested he was perfectly comfortable coming there to pick her up.

When she opened the door, he smiled warmly and her nerves started to relax. If anything, Jim was easy to be around, and easier still to talk to. Although she did not yet have an undying attraction to him, she liked him and enjoyed their conversations. The meal was nice, not too fancy to be obnoxious, but Tracy could tell he definitely put some effort and planning into their evening. They saw a movie too, and then he brought her home. The movie was good. He let her choose it. She tried to find something a man would enjoy. She wasn’t sure, and she couldn’t judge his reaction. Not like she could Micah’s… or Donny’s. No. Never again could she allow herself to think of
that
night. Or, heaven forbid, compare it to any other night.

When they reached the end of the date, at the awkward goodbye stage, he turned his truck off and followed her to the porch. Just as Donny did. But she’d never gone on a date with Donny. Never. Ever. Nope. No matter how it might’ve appeared.

Jim stood close behind her as she unlocked the door. Her nerves finally betrayed her when she clumsily groped to accomplish the simple task. She had to turn back around to him then. He was only two feet away from her and he smiled and stepped closer, wrapping an arm around her waist. Leaning even closer, he touched his lips to hers. She closed her eyes and pressed back with her lips.

It felt… nice. Different. Hesitant. He separated and smiled gently. “So, may I call you again?”

He wanted to see her again? Maybe she didn’t totally suck as a date tonight. And why not? The meal and movie were pleasant and fun. He was nice without being threatening.

She had no desire to have sex with him. So why not see him again? Not a big decision. There was no great reaction inside her, or yearning passion that he ignited. So sure. She’d definitely see him again. “I would like that.”

“Like, huh?” he smiled ruefully. “Ah, Tracy McKinley, you are a tough girl to impress. I will though. I’ll find a way to.”

She couldn’t help laughing at seeing his rueful look. “No one’s ever accused me of being hard to impress.”

He stepped back and turned to leave with a grin, “Oh, but you are, my dear.”

She closed the door, still smiling. There was something to be said for a date that ended with her still smiling. Alone now, she wandered into her bedroom. She felt different tonight when she was alone than the night she and Donny went out. That night, she was so lonely, the ache felt like a physical knot in her chest. Now? She just felt weary. Tired. She was kind of deflated when the date did not meet her expectations, or feel like she hoped it would. It wasn’t a magic Band-Aid that could make her forget Micah. Or Donny.

The next thought followed. No. She didn’t miss Donny.

But maybe, she wished she could talk to him now until she grew tired. Yes, maybe she wished that.

She started seeing Jim on Saturdays. Strangely, he accepted her schedule and being relegated to seeing her only one evening a week. They went to dinner and the movies, or bowling. They had a great time together. Then he kissed her goodnight. Eventually, he came inside and went to bed with her.

It was good. Fine. No, more than fine. It was satisfying physically. But it wasn’t satisfying emotionally. She felt hollow and very alone as Jim peacefully slept, snoring softly in her bed.

With a sinking heart, she realized Jim wasn’t what she wanted.

She wanted the passion, heat and connection she felt in the act when she shared it with Micah. With Jim, it was kind of abstract. Okay, but rather awkward.

With Micah she never sneaked into the bathroom to cry because she felt so weird, and it seemed so wrong to have Jim in her bed. It was the first time in fourteen years Tracy had sex without love. And she didn’t like it. Not at all.

****

Donny caught Vickie drinking the first time only four and half months after she returned home. He had to work late four nights in a row. Her mother had Julia, of course, and they had yet to discuss that issue. Julia was never left unsupervised with Vickie, who had no complaints. It was weird to Donny. Didn’t she care? Didn’t it offend her that after all the hard work she invested, she still wasn’t trusted alone with her own child? But no, apparently she did not care.

He came home and found her already in bed. He was immediately suspicious because she had recently been staying up until at least ten or eleven. It was only nine p.m. He soon spotted the empty bottles in the trash. She managed to, at least, hide them. Donny leaned over his trash cans and felt like someone just drop-kicked him in the guts. He took the glass bottle and threw it on the concrete garage floor where it smashed into pieces with a loud crash. Glass scattered everywhere, into every corner of the garage. He knew he’d be picking it up for months. Just like Vickie. She spread into every part of his life and he could never cease picking up after her. He stared for minutes at the broken shards of glass. He wanted nothing more than to call Tracy. She would understand how devastating and hopeless he felt. And how betrayed.

But no. He could not call the one person he most wanted to.

The next morning, he confronted Vickie, who cried and held her head while a raging hangover plagued her.

“Why? Just tell me why.” His voice cracked in pain at seeing her appearance as well as discussing the subject of the conversation.

“Why? Because I’m an alcoholic. It’s not rocket science.”

“I get that. I mean, why last night? Why did you drink?”

She shrugged, her eyes skittering around the room to look anywhere but at him. “Because Mom had Julia. Because you were gone. Because I wanted to go out. And didn’t. I don’t really know. I just started, and once I start, nothing stops me.”

“But after all the work you’ve done. You can just throw all that away in one night?”

“I guess that’s how a relapse happens.”

They stared at each other across the kitchen. Dirty dishes filled the sink, while condiments and papers littered the counter tops. The laundry was never done. The floors were rarely swept or vacuumed. Gayle did the only cleaning the house ever saw, and Donny hated it. But he simply didn’t have the time right now. He leaned heavily on the counter and said, “What now?”

She shrugged her shoulder, which was poking out of the loose sweatshirt she wore. She ran a hand through her now crusty, greasy hair. “I guess I’ll start over. Day number one all over again. Unless… you’re kicking me out.”

He sighed as he came closer to her. Kneeling beside her, he put a hand on her shoulder. “I’m not a monster. I meant, if you kept drinking without trying to stop.”

“I know,” she said, lifting her gaze to his, and then away. “I know you’re not a monster. I just, this is… so hard.”

“Not drinking?”

She stared into his eyes again and nodded. This time, she sighed.“When you first gave me the ultimatum, I would have said anything to keep you. Any lie would have crossed my lips. You want the truth now? Unfettered and uncensored?”

He held her gaze. “Yeah. I want that. More than anything. I want to know where we stand.”

“I don’t know how long I can do this. I don’t even know if I want to do this.”

“Not drink? Or be with me? Or with Julia?”

“No. I don’t want to drink. I don’t want to be an alcoholic. But I am. I don’t know if I want to be here, Donny. I love you. I love Julia, but it’s so hard. I know what I fail at; and I know what I’m good at, and all this domestic goddess stuff is not for me.”

He dropped his head.
God. Would it ever end?
The desolate tone of her voice filled his heart with guilt. It wasn’t his doing, not any of it. She chose to get pregnant with Julia. She chose him as the man she wanted to settle down with. How could he be responsible if settling down was the last thing that suited her? Or that she truly wanted?

He set his hand on her forehead and began rubbing her hair. “I think you can, hon. I think you can do this. So you slipped up. I don’t think that negates all the good work you’ve done. We are all so proud of you. Maybe I should go with you today. I can take the day off. We’ll…”

“Stop, Donny. Just stop. This is exactly what I can’t do anymore. I can’t be the good little wife. The good trooper. I’m not Tracy. I’m… me. And there are things I don’t think will ever change about me. To be honest, I’m not sure I want to change them.”

“I don’t expect you to be Tracy. Or Gretchen.”

“Tracy. You’d choose Tracy over me.” His eyes shot up to hers. She held his questioning gaze with honest, open, but tired eyes. “I’m not blind, Donny.” Her tone was sad, quiet and not Vickie. She was usually brazen. Confident. Fun. Flirty. Angry or enraged. She was rarely quiet and tired, much less, honest.

“Vickie, there’s nothing…” What should he say? There was nothing between him and Tracy? And imply there was good reason to think there
was
something between them?

She shook her head. “Believe it or not, I get it. I see how she is with Julia. I see how you are. I know what you want for Julia. And it’s not me. The thing is: I can’t fault you. I want more for her too.”

“Vickie stop. I don’t want Julia to have anybody else. You’re her mother. I want to make it work with you.”

She touched his face and smiled softly. Her eyes were red-rimmed as her mouth twisted into an ironic grimace. “I know you do. I know you want that because it’s the right thing. You think you owe me. You think Julia is better off as long as her parents stay together. But wanting to be with me for the sake of our child is not what I want, Donny. I want to be loved and adored and cherished. I want you to want to spend all day and all night with me. I want you to have sex with me because you can’t look at me and think of anything but the next time my lips will touch yours. I want to be wanted that way. Not for the sake of our child. I deserve more than just being your noble sacrifice on behalf of our daughter.”

“Of course, you’re right. You deserve that. It’s just…”

“Not what you feel, is it? Come on. We’re being honest now. We spent two years of being dishonest and not admitting how we feel. So start there, Donny. Start with how you feel about me.”

He shifted back to sit on his heels and his shoulders dropped in defeat as he stared hard at the floor. “I also want to feel like that.”

She sucked in a breath. “I know. I know you do, but I also know you don’t.”

“This has nothing to do with Tracy.”

“It has everything to do with Tracy. And everything not to do with Tracy.”

“We spent a lot of time together.”

“And?”

“And we kissed one time. It horrified her. It was not something we ever intend to repeat.”

Vickie remained stoic. “But did it horrify
you
?”

He stood up. “I can’t discuss this with my wife.”

She grabbed his hand and tugged on it for him to sit down. “Just sit down. No more proper ‘my wife, mother of my child,’ crap, okay? Just talk to me. Vickie to Donny. Let’s just be real, please? I can’t deal with all this bullshit anymore.”

He sagged into the chair she indicated and leaned his head on his hand. “No, it didn’t horrify me. It bothered me actually, that I wasn’t horrified.”

She shifted and leaned her elbows on the table. “Donny? We made a mistake, didn’t we?”

He took her hand. Out of friendship. Guilt. Sadness. He didn’t know. A deep sorrow filled his chest. “I don’t know.”

She leaned back, throwing his hand from hers and crossed her arms over her chest. “My sister, huh? Kind of a douche bag move, Donny. And not something I’d ever expect from you.”

“There’s nothing between us.”

She held his gaze. “There might be…”

“No. There will never be.”

She sighed and let her head rest on the back of the chair. “Ah, damn, baby, you picked a girl who doesn’t do the things I do. She’s not bad enough. Bold enough. So no, it might never happen.”

“We can’t talk about this anymore.”