Chapter 11 #3
“She found out that your dad is engaged,” he told me, and that had also been the guess in the group chat. “The fiancée has been posting about it and it filtered around to one of Mom’s friends and that dumb woman sent it to her. Why?”
“We couldn’t keep it from her forever,” I said, but of course there was more to the story that I personally knew, and I felt like I was also skidding close to that information being revealed.
“I wish it hadn’t been tonight, though,” he sighed. “Carrie was just going to come over and we were planning to make fondue together.”
“You can go to her house,” I suggested, but as I started to open the side door, I saw that he could not.
The old fondue set lay in several pieces, handle and burnt orange pot on either side of the hallway.
There was also broken chocolate and a few bent forks on the ground, as well as some strawberries.
“Those were so expensive,” he lamented in a whisper. “She threw the whole bag with my groceries out of the kitchen, because your father had gotten that set at a yard sale when they were first married. She’s pissed enough to ruin fondue!”
“Mom?” I called, and Dion pointed toward the stairs. We went up together, to the former girls’ bedroom which had turned into an elaborate yoga studio. My mother lay on her back on one of her mats, her hands in akash mudra and her eyes closed.
“Good. She’s not throwing things anymore and that mudra will help to calm her,” he said in the same whisper, but in the total silence of this room, the words had been very loud.
My mom opened her eyes. “Grace?” she asked. She sounded more annoyed than angry or sad.
“Yes, it’s me.”
“Nicola couldn’t come, or Addie? Not Juliet in her condition, but not Patty? Not even Sophie or Brenna?”
“Brenna is in Anguilla, and everyone else has kid stuff or work. There’s just me,” I answered.
“And me, Jackie. I’m here,” Dion added, and she nodded in his direction.
“Did he tell you?” she asked me. “Why aren’t you in shock?”
“I already knew about Dad getting married.”
She scrambled up to stand on the mat. Despite being older than my dad’s new fiancée, I thought that my mom was much prettier.
She was also a lot more volatile than what I’d seen from the other woman.
Right now, Mom’s voice rose and trembled a lot.
“You knew about your father and that person, and you didn’t tell me? ”
“Everyone knew,” I said, deflecting. “Patrick did, but he didn’t tell you either.” He was her favorite and that would give her pause.
It worked, because she blinked and stared at me. “Was your silence to protect me?” she asked, and she sounded calmer.
“Yes,” Dion answered immediately. “It didn’t have anything to do with us being scared of you flipping batshit.”
“That’s very sweet,” she said, and her emotions appeared to swivel further. She didn’t seem ready to throw a fondue pot now, but she was close to crying. “You all love me so much that you hounded him for the truth and then cut him off because of that woman. Isn’t that what happened?”
“Uh…” Dion shot a glance at me. No one had needed to hound, because Dad had freely announced to us that he was getting married.
And no one besides Patrick had really cut off our father, and that had happened even before this new fiancée situation.
Dion and I were also aware that Sophie had dragged both her family and Addie’s over to visit Dad and the fiancée the weekend before.
I tried for more deflection. “I almost made it into the crow pose,” I mentioned. Theo had helped by piling pillows around me, but I left that part out. “I’m getting there, gradually.”
“Wow,” Dion said loudly, jumping right into my strategy. “Kakasana! That’s great, isn’t it, Jackie? Good for you, Grace! Let’s try that together right now.”
But Mom was staring at me and she wasn’t starting to squat to make her crow. “You’re getting there, gradually,” she said, echoing my words. “Gradually.” She frowned as she spoke.
“What do you mean?” I asked suspiciously. “Are we still talking about yoga? I’m making progress with that. I’m making progress with everything.”
“Your progress is hard to see when we compare you to the rest of your siblings.”
“Jackie!” Dion admonished. “Why would you say that right now?”
“Because she’s the only one here!” Mom answered him, throwing up her arms. “You were going out to see your beautiful girlfriend and everyone else is busy because they settled down.”
“Patrick hasn’t,” I said.
“He gave me Esme, my first grandchild,” my mom said. “He has to stay home and watch his daughter tonight! But you, Grace…”
“I’m getting there,” I said. Maybe I wasn’t moving toward a loving marriage and a beautiful family like my sisters had, but I was doing something. “I’m getting there, gradually. Don’t lash out at me because you’re mad about Dad.”
But that made her nod. “You knew about his little girlfriend and you didn’t tell me.”
“Everyone knew! Dion did, too!” I said, throwing him directly under the blame bus.
He glared at me but she ignored that and continued.
“Your issues are probably due to the poor example that your father gave you of marriage. I should have thrown him out years ago instead of waiting so long!” she told us, which was a large alteration of the historical record.
He had left on his own and there had been no throwing.
“He’s the reason that your life is in shambles, Grace, and why you’ll never have a secure relationship and find happiness like your sisters. ”
“Jackie!” Dion shot out again.
Before, in the not-too-distant past, I would have already been out of the room and then out of the house, escaping.
I never would have involved myself in an argument with my mother—in fact, I didn’t remember her even starting anything with me, not before this moment.
And now I understood why my sisters, particularly Nicola and Sophie, complained about her.
She was way over the top in her criticism and she was wrong!
Wasn’t she? Roiling anger and hurt made my face heat.
“Dad was cheating on you for at least a year before he walked out,” I announced. The atmosphere in this yoga studio, usually quiet and serene, sunk into an awful, ominous silence.
My mother broke it. “What?” she asked.
“He had a mistress. It’s this same woman, his assistant at the accounting firm,” I said, but now I was mumbling and edging toward the door. “It turned into more than just an affair, so they’re getting married.”
“And you knew that? You knew that he was cheating and you didn’t tell me? I was in labor with you for thirty-six hours without an iota of pain medication! You didn’t tell me?”
“Grace, you better go,” Dion whispered just as loudly as before.
I did. I ran down the stairs and out to my car and the house stayed quiet, with no one bursting through the front door to pelt me with a broken fondue set or expensive strawberries.
I had a hard time driving home—no, not home.
I didn’t have a home like my sisters owned or the one my brother rented.
I didn’t have a cabin in the woods. I didn’t have an apartment I shared with the person I’d been cheating with like my dad, and I didn’t even have a room in a flophouse with hypodermic needles in the sink.
I went back to the place that I hadn’t rented and I got into the bed that I hadn’t bought for myself, and I thought about Juliet and Beckett, my mom and dad, and me and my lack of a relationship and happiness.
There was a lot to go over, and none of it seemed to be good. I had considered taking a vacation with Theo, and not just to Ohio! What was I doing?
Again, nothing good. My mom was right, and I realized that I was going to have to run before I made things even worse.