Chapter 8 #2
I liked all the women, probably because I was somewhere in between Christine and Sonia.
Primed for perfection, but finding myself in the fallout of reality.
Picking up little pieces of me—like debris—since the divorce.
My voice, my thoughts, my dreams all scattered about as I held it together for my husband and my children, who hadn’t asked to be born.
They deserved an intact family, I’d lectured myself for decades.
Really, before the divorce, when perimenopause hit. All of a sudden, I didn’t have an over-civilized bone left in my body. My rose-colored glasses fell off, and I understood that my husband didn’t love me. He loved what I did for him, but not me. Not Joyce.
Our meeting concluded with gathering into a group huddle and Eileen reading a quote out loud: “If you can only take one step today, then take one step today.”
“Good one,” Althea said, her face brimming with the same gratitude that swelled through my heart.
The Chapter Chatters had done me good. When Eileen had first told me about the group, I had no intention of coming.
Sitting around talking to women without actually doing anything productive—lesson planning, grading papers, folding clothes, cleaning the church, braiding hair, something—seemed like a privileged, first-world thing to do.
Yet I felt better than I had in a long time, just being heard and meeting women who had already traveled down D-Word Lane, and I had Eileen to thank for that. I did so as the room cleared.
“You’re welcome. It’s a fun bunch.”
“I agree.”
“Think you might join us again?” she asked, her voice full of hope.
“I don’t know. My grandson’s only here for a few weeks. And like I said earlier, there’s so much work to do still with my house. By the time I’m finished, I might need a job!” I half joked.
“What kind of work do you do?”
“I’m a retired elementary school teacher.”
Eileen perked up. “Well, you’re in luck. Christine and Valerie are retired educators, too. They’re both well connected with Robin Creek schools. I’m sure they can point you in the right direction. You want me to reach out to them?”
The power of a small town. “I’d appreciate it.”
“Sure thing.” She stopped pushing the chairs into place and stood in front of me, hands clasped across her stomach like she was giving an Easter speech.
“Just remember, Joyce. Even though you’ve got a lot going on, it’s important to make taking care of yourself a priority on your list of things to do. ”
Her words gave me pause, in a good way. “Thank you, Eileen.”
She winked and resumed straightening up the room.
I sat on an old bench right outside the LEGO meeting room, watching as the children put away their toys, digesting Eileen’s words.
She was right. I mean, I used to journal.
I used to get my nails and hair done regularly, and doing so used to feel like pampering.
But then, when my life got super busy around the time my kids were teens, keeping those appointments got hectic.
And then when the pandemic hit and I stopped for a while, I really didn’t want to go back to the salon.
My nails regained their strength, my hair was long enough for a quick ponytail, and I got used to seeing myself without makeup, quite frankly.
It was Eric Sr. who made a remark that it was time I “got back to looking like myself” when the restrictions were lifted. When that happened, I loathed going to the salon. It was Eric-care, marriage maintenance. Definitely not self-care.
I gathered Elijah from his group, and we began the walk around the square to my car. “How was it?”
“Cool. They showed me how to make a robot, with wires and everything. The leader, Mr. James, his son is Michael, and Michael’s in the same grade as me. Do you know about electricity conduction?”
“A little,” I told him.
“What did you do while I was in class?” he asked.
His interest touched me, made me slow my stride a bit despite the rising heat. “I met a group of ladies. We talked and laughed.”
“Sounds boring. But I’m glad you made friends.”
“I suppose I did, huh?”
“Yep. Me, too.”
We clasped our hands and swung them back and forth as we walked to my car, never mind the fact that my shoulder joints would probably need ointment the next day.
“I’m going to miss you, Grandma.”
His statement slowed the momentum in my arms. “What do you mean?”
“When I go to Grandpa’s house in a few weeks. He won’t take me to the library or let me make berry syrup.”
“The cooking is all Gabriella,” I said, attempting to deflect.
“You know what I mean,” Elijah thwarted me. “I won’t have any fun. Just follow the rules, be quiet, and leave him alone. Might as well be in prison.”
“EJ, so help me God, you will never see the inside of a prison cell. And…” I felt myself slip into Superwoman mode.
My gold crown clinked into place and my red cape flapped in the wind, because I couldn’t stand the thought of Elijah being shunned by my ex-husband, though I knew his prediction was 100 percent correct.
Children shouldn’t have to suffer because of adults.
“I’ll look online for some things you and your grandfather can do together in the northern Austin area.
I’ll come up with a suggested schedule—how’s that? ”
His face fell slack, unconvinced. “I guess.”
My wheels were spinning now as I calculated a plan.
I could call Eric’s longtime administrative assistant, Sherry, and ask her to keep his schedule sparse, giving him more time with Elijah.
I could even purchase tickets for a few evening events.
My ex-husband did not believe in wasting money or food under any circumstance. Entrapment.
I lost the last of my arm-swinging juice when Richard came bounding out of his office toward me and Elijah.
“Hi, Joyce. I inboxed—” He stopped, noticing Elijah. “Oh. Hello there, young man.”
Elijah shook Richard’s hand and introduced himself. I was proud of the way EJ looked him in the eyes and spoke so clearly, saying his name as well. Terri and Chris were doing a good job with my grandson.
“Good to meet you, Elijah, but it’s hard to believe this woman is your grandmother. She looks far too young.”
A silly smirk covered Elijah’s face as he registered this man’s intentions, I believe.
“I did see your inbox message online, Richard. As you can see, I’ve been busy with my grandson the past few days. I’ll get back to you.”
“Looking forward to it, Joyce.”
Something about the way Richard said my name—and the way his eyes, full of sincerity and warmth, caught mine this time—sent a shiver all through me.
I nodded and continued my short journey with Elijah, who talked about LEGO sets all the way home.
I listened, barely, as I processed the fact that Richard Tatum was as desperate as I was.
Not bottom-of-the-barrel desperate, where you’ll take anybody with a pulse.
No. The proper word wasn’t desperate at all.
I don’t think we have a word in the English language for what I felt and what I saw in him that day on the square.
The definition of the nonexistent word would be: when you miss the familiarity and comfort of having good times with people you know.
The theme song from that ’80s sitcom Cheers played in my head.
It is nice to be in the company of people who go waaay back with you.
I missed that about Eric. But that was where the lyrical parallel ended.
Eric and I weren’t glad to be in each other’s company.
We functioned well, like a car that gets you from point A to point B.
No music, no AC, no air freshener, no conversation along the way.
Just be quiet and ride—no complaints if you don’t want any problems.
I wondered what had brought Richard’s marriage to an end.
Was it fooling around, like Wardell? Did they grow apart, like me and Eric?
Was it both? If so, maybe he had learned something, like Lupita said.
Maybe we had both learned something invaluable that would serve us well in our next relationships, because truth be told, I missed being able to say, “Just fix it and send the invoice,” to my appliance-repair person.
This fact made me wonder if I’d been with Eric for financial security as much as he’d been with me for domestic security, if that’s a thing.
“Grandma!” Eric poked my arm, bringing me back to reality.
“I’m sorry. What do you need?”
“I said thank you for letting me stay with you.”
Whether he meant to butter me up or not, it worked. “Glad to have you, EJ.”