Chapter 14 The Rumors
THE RUMORS
CARTER
Isat here and watched, unnoticed, as Becky and her friends all sat, and drank, and laughed.
It’s been weeks since I really last saw my girl, not from across a room or parking lot.
Since I last touched, tasted, or talked to her, and when I’m not sneaking into our house and fixing all the shit she’s asked me to fix over the years, vacuuming after the dogs, or working my ass off trying to bring in more money—I’m here, nursing a beer, pretending to watch sports.
Also, praying I luck out and get another glimpse of my woman.
I’ve been here so often, I’ve gotten into the preseason Hockey games and find myself rooting for the local team. I also know more about local gossip from the grumpy, intoxicated patrons chatting and complaining around me.
I had hoped she’d be here today, Wasted Women’s Wednesday. I tried asking Paige, but she wasn’t answering any messages after she got off the phone, so I just showed up.
Becky has always just called it Women’s Wednesday whenever we’d gone in the past because not a damn second of our time there is wasted.
Seeing her here with an array of women looking so happy does something to me.
A mixture of pride and sadness colliding.
I love that she’s finding people, but I miss being her person.
I just—I lost that right—that privilege.
So now I’m just trying to find ways to be in her orbit.
I watched her, so beautiful and light and full of joy and softness. This passionate, clever, enticing woman was mine, and I was hers. Well, I’m still hers, but she used to want me to be hers. She used to want to be mine. Now I haven’t heard from her since the day I was caught changing her oil.
I told her everything that matters, but it wasn’t enough. If she knew everything…shame fills me again, so I take another long sip of my warm drink.
I’ve been here twenty minutes since she left, staring at the place Becky had been sitting when a woman from her table wearing all sorts of layers and colors stands up and wanders over. She stands directly next to me, and clears her throat in a clear ‘pay attention to me’ way.
“I know you.” She gives me a sharp, feline smile when she lifts herself up to the empty seat beside me.
She used to be my teacher. “Ms. Terri, how are you? Can I get you something to drink?” She reaches out and snags a cold fry from my tray and keeps her smile firmly in place. I attempt a smile of my own in return.
“Please, call me Vicky, hun. You’re almost thirty, and that makes me feel old enough already.
” My smile turns genuine at her caustic tone.
She was the absolute best teacher. She taught Middle School Science while I was in grades five through eight.
I was always excited when it was time to go to her class.
“Alright Vicky. What can I do for you?” Her eyes trail across my face, and she shakes her head. Her disappointment feels heavy.
“You can start by removing your head from your ass.” Well, damn.
I choke and cough up the beer I’m drinking. “Pardon?” I swear I misunderstood her.
“You didn’t misunderstand me.” Voodoo teacher mind-reading shit. “You know I work with Becky Duchamp.” I nod my head. “Were you aware that a certain Ms. Harrison also works with Becky Duchamp?”
I put my beer down to avoid any more problems as the hits keep coming. “No ma’am. I was not aware.” Then I pause, a few conversations over the last month penetrating my exhausted mind.
Teacher Assistant, Jill’s school, personal life brought to work. She starts Monday. The number of people who’ve asked me if it’s weird for my woman to be in her situation. I really didn’t put it all together, and now I’m wondering which woman they were calling mine. Shit.
“Yup. I see that you were. You see, Mr. Stewart, the lovely Ms. Harrison, who according to her, you know lovingly as Tay—”
“Lovingly! Ms. Terri, I mean Vicky. There is nothing loving about the way that I know Taylor.”
“Carter. Becky has been inundated with claims from Taylor since the first week of school.
Taylor has been receiving chocolates, letters, and flowers from her loving Carter baby multiple times a week already, but that's not all.” She leans in closer, and all I feel is dread creeping through me.
"She's also spreading rumors about Becky around the school.
Making her seem unstable, unreliable, and jealous.
" She leans back and watches me take in her words.
What the fuck? My blood begins to boil. “Becky did nothing to her! She was the one who was wronged, and now Taylor is what, going after her career?” She already sullied me, and I know.
I know I used to be Becky's safe place, but I also know that she has always felt comfortable in the school and in her classroom.
Now Taylor was going after that too? I had to take both away from her with my actions—my choices.
Like Becky said, I opened up the door for that viper to walk into our lives.
“Yep.” She steals another cold fry and watches me closely as I try to compute this new information.
“What the f—uh frick! I mean, I’m sorry Ms.—I mean Vicky, but that is an absolute load of garbage.
I haven’t sent a thing to Taylor. I haven’t even talked to her in weeks!
Taylor has showed up to the shop a few times over the weeks, but I’ve always disappeared until she left.
” I tried to convince Paul to ban her, but he wasn’t happy with the idea of removing his ‘only eye candy in this Goddamn hellscape.’ His quote.
It wasn’t until my hiding really started affecting my work output that he finally started to strongly encourage Taylor to get the fuck out. My words this time, but not directly to her. Just in my brain.
I flashback to the Sunday after our big conversation…or, maybe argument? I’m not sure what to classify it as. Maybe, hopeless-attempt-to-explain-myself-and-my-stupid-ass-choices? Anyway, that Sunday night I finally checked my phone after a weekend of silence.
Every number but one was set on Do Not Disturb, so I was feeling low when my phone didn’t ring the entire weekend.
I unlocked my screen to find at least one person was trying to make contact.
Taylor - 17 missed calls, 15 unread messages
Jesus. My last message to her sat read but ignored.
Me
Nvm I don’t need your money. Deal’s done. Please stop contacting me.
I finally just blocked her.
“That’s nice, honey, but does anyone really have a reason not to believe her?” Vicky’s words knock me back to the present. Shit. I hate that she’s right.
“Exactly. That girl has made the whole school an uncomfortable place for Becky, and that little bitch is doing everything in her power to make it worse and worse each day. Somebody gave her that power.” She gives me that teacher look over her glasses, and I shrink in on myself.
Me. I did that. “What can I do? I don’t know shit about school politics or any of that.” I look her over and decide she obviously wants what’s best for Becks. “Can you help me?”
“I’ll help.” She says, looking at me carefully over her purple cat eye glasses, “but only because I’m tired of seeing Becky deal with that rotten woman’s bullshit.”
“I’ll take whatever help I can get.”
We exchange numbers before she leaves and I remain sitting here, still looking in the direction Becky was sitting, my back to the wall.
But now, I’m planning, not just pining. Ms. Terri always knew how to motivate me to get to work.
My grades in her class were the best I’d ever had other than in mechanics class.
I’m ruminating on my next steps when a voice to my right starts to filter in.
“I’m just sayin’ that more isn’t the same as better.
Take my girl’s family for example. Her brother is a big shot.
Makes bank, has a beautiful wife and family.
Problem is, he’s in trouble. He got in way over his head.
” I look up to see a real big guy with his back to me talking to a little blonde guy. I’m only partially listening.
I consider packing up to leave, but I can’t stand the emptiness of my childhood home. I shake my head before I go that route, and tune back in to the guy near me. “Yeah man, she said her brother had an emotional affair with his assistant, but some people are saying it went further than that.”
“What the fuck is an emotional affair?” says blondy, reading my mind.
The big guy, I realize with a jolt, is Bobby Swater. Bobby’s woman is Trevor’s sister, Bethany.
Holy Fuck.
“Beth says it’s when a guy spends his time and shares emotional shit with a woman who is not his woman.
You get what I mean?” The guy and I both nod.
He continues, “There’s no fuckin’. Maybe kissin’, maybe thinking about fuckin’, but none of the real physical shit happening.
Though, if you’re thinking about it, it counts too. ”
Oh shit. Trevor has his own shit going on. It went further than that? I’m focusing on that final puzzle piece so neatly fitting into place that I nearly miss the next part.
“Oh, hey Trev!” Bobby calls, a little mockery in his voice, “We were just talking about you.” I look in time to see Trevor clench his fist, but only grunts in response before he looks up, sees me, and heads to the seat Vicky recently vacated.
“Trev,” I start. “Is it true?”
He looks at me, and his eyes get real hard. “Carter. You have no fucking right to say a Goddamn word to me about this. You’re just as dumb or even dumber than I am, so don’t say shit to me until you can figure out your own problems.” Wow, so he’s mad mad.
“Sure, brother.” I say calmly, which seems to just piss him off further. His jaw gets real tight and he stares straight ahead.
“You should know, people are talking about Taylor and Becky. Taylor is really playing the part of innocent and making Becky out to be some kind of witch hunter. I heard people talking about it at the bank. Important people.”
“Are you fucking with me?”