A Forty Year Kiss

8

After the girls had fallen asleep, Vivian sat at the kitchen table playing solitaire. She liked this ritual. And it wasn’t the same on her phone or a computer. There was something about holding a deck in her hands, something about touching the cards, about fanning out a lone column of cards, and seeing that rhythm of black-red-black-red-black… About moving cards, stacking cards, counting cards. She liked this little table. A cup of tea with honey and a slice of lemon nearby. How quiet this ritual was. Some nights she only played for twenty minutes. Other nights, it might be hours.

Melissa emerged from the bathroom in a thick, soft robe, a towel wound around her hair, and sat down beside her mother.

Feel better? Vivian asked.

Long day, Melissa admitted.

Do you want to talk about it?

Not really, Melissa smiled bravely. Same old, same old.

Vivian wanted to say that she was sorry, but there was no use in dwelling overly long on a bad day; rather, she decided to invent a distraction.

Why don’t you try to get away one of these weekends? A girls’ getaway or something? It wouldn’t have to be glamorous. The Dells, maybe. There are probably plenty of fall deals at hotels down there. Or Milwaukee. Madison. I worry about you. You’re always working, sweetheart.

You’re too nice, Melissa said. Oh, Mom. I don’t know. It just feels like…sometimes, I can’t believe this is my life, you know? I don’t understand what happened. Where I messed up.

Melissa. You have two beautiful daughters, who love you. And you’ve got me.

I know, I know. But—is it wrong that sometimes that doesn’t feel like enough? Am I horrible for saying that? For thinking that?

No, Melissa. Of course not. We all feel like that, sometimes, I think. I do. I know I do.

But things are going well for you right now, aren’t they? Melissa smiled as she stood up, and pulled a bottle of Baileys from the refrigerator. Poured two fingers over a glass of ice cubes and sat back down.

Yeah, things are going well, she admitted. But maybe that’s just it, hon. You can’t plan these things. The idea that Charlie Fallon would somehow drop back into my life, and in this way…to be honest with you, it never dawned on me.

But you must have still felt something for him, right? I mean, deep down. You must have still loved him?

Vivian sighed, surveyed the cards arrayed before her.

No, she said at last. I didn’t. I think I gave up on him a long time ago. I really did. He broke my heart, and he kept breaking my heart, and I would stick around, and hope that he’d change. This is awful, and not smart, but—I think for a while I hoped we’d get pregnant, and that he’d snap out of it. Start saving money. Stop drinking. Maybe find a job in town. I used to think about that a lot. I used to think about us as young parents. As a young family. I used to dream about that. I used to lie in our bed and hold my stomach and ask god for a baby. But towards the end, I just couldn’t trust him. I couldn’t trust him around a little baby. I didn’t know how he’d behave, night to night. I didn’t know when he’d come home. It was like—how do I explain it? I realized that it was like being married to a child. There was no accountability. No stability. Everything was dictated by alcohol. I guess the good news was, it all just didn’t last too long. I couldn’t point to any one night, any one act; it was just a sad blur. And then he was gone. And he never, until now, made any kind of contact with me, at all. So all of this was just—a total surprise.

Melissa took a long sip of the Baileys and offered it to Vivian, who only shook her head.

So why are you giving him another chance? You don’t owe it to him.

Vivian counted out three cards and glanced at the third. Counted out three more and sighed.

Well, what if I didn’t?

What do you mean? Melissa asked, a trace of sad laughter in her voice.

I mean, Vivian said, what then? What if he had changed, and I didn’t give him a chance? I guess I had a feeling. I don’t know, Melissa. I had a feeling about him.

A feeling?

Yes, just a feeling. But I don’t know, sweetheart. No one is perfect. I’ve made mistakes in my life. What if no one had helped me? What if they hadn’t given me a second chance? What if they’d already counted me out? He doesn’t have anyone. Oh, he’s got a dog, I suppose. But that’s not what I have. With you. With my granddaughters. With…Jessie. He’s alone. Imagine how that must feel. To be all alone with your mistakes.

She counted another three cards and added a four of hearts below a five of clubs.

I’ll tell you something else, Vivian said, reaching for the glass of Baileys and taking the smallest of sips. I guess I don’t have that much to lose. But it’s all over if I ever get the feeling that I can’t trust him. And I’m not just talking about me. I’m talking about you all. If he hasn’t changed, I just can’t have him around. I won’t.

She shrugged her shoulders.

But so far so good. Most of the time, I’m just nervous. Which is so strange, because I know this man. But maybe it’s just because I’m out of practice. Anyway, I mean, I want to have fun, and I like where this is going, but the nice thing is, I’m not worried about impressing him. That’s his responsibility. He’s the one who has to convince, me, you know? It’s nice. I feel like, when we were married, most of the time I was just a passenger, you know? Just along for the ride. But now…it feels like I’m in control.

The red two, Melissa said, pointing. You can move that up. And then that three.

Good eyes. Thank you.

Melissa finished her drink with one last swig, and then stood.

I’m going to bed.

Good night, sweetheart.

Good night, Mom.