As Tears Go By (29 page)

One
night she was cleaning up after dinner while Hunter listened to his iPod and
Braydon worked from his laptop on the sofa. As she shut off the water she
stilled.

Hearing
her son’s voice during music time caught her off guard. Drying her hands, she
slowly approached the den only to find him hovering over Braydon’s shoulder.

“And
what about here?” Braydon asked. Hunter reached for the screen of the laptop
and Braydon laughed, redirecting him. “You can’t touch, bud.”

Becca
smiled at the gentle way he spoke to her son. Braydon looked around and reached
into his portfolio. Withdrawing a large sketchpad, he slid it onto the table
with a pencil. “Here. Show me on this.”

Becca
watched, confused, as to what they were doing. Stepping closer, she observed
her son scribbling letters and numbers all over the paper Braydon placed on the
floor. It was as if Hunter’s hand couldn’t write fast enough for his brain.

His
head twisted as he solved some curious equation he was considering. Braydon
grinned, clearly impressed with whatever all those numbers translated.

“What’s
he doing?” she quietly asked.

Braydon
turned his smile on her. “He just solved the Golden ratio.”

“What’s
that?”

“It’s
something used in architecture. If two quantities are in the Golden ratio,
their ratio’s the same as the ratio to the sum of the larger of the two
quantities. It’s a twentieth-century formula artists and architects used to
create what they believed aesthetically pleasing. Basically, he unraveled the
formula for phi.”

“Pi?”

“No,
phi.
It’s different.”

“How
did he know how to do that?” she asked, moved by her son’s show of
intelligence.

She
truly believed people were only conscious of ten percent of the things they
thought they knew, but people on the spectrum were much more aware. Their
intelligence was sometimes impossible for the typical person to comprehend,
which was why their thinking was so misunderstood.

“Do
this one,” Braydon said, flashing his computer screen to Hunter, which sent her
son scribbling again.

The
days that followed progressed with an energy she hadn’t experienced in quite
some time. Hunter demanded certain pieces of furniture be moved, which he’d
done years before, but Becca never understood why. Braydon could somehow
explain his reasoning now, telling her of equations, and finding numeric
rationale behind each shift that would have otherwise been a mystery.

“See,”
Braydon pointed out one afternoon. “It’s a mathematical equation that links to
a sense of harmony. He’s rationalizing the order of the universe, I think. It’s
soothing to him.”

She
watched her son work out the numbers and return to shift furniture around in
the den. Hunter’s mood had indeed been calmer. “Why is it soothing do you
think?”

Braydon
didn’t seem to have all the answers, but he had some very good assumptions. “I
think it’s more along the lines of correcting an irritant. Some people never
think about toilet paper or how it’s placed on the roll, but my sister freaks
out every time someone puts it on ‘backwards’.”

She
frowned. “Which way is it supposed to go?”

He
laughed. “I have no idea. Somehow Sheilagh always knows if it’s wrong though.
But maybe this is like that for Hunter. He isn’t so much creating order, but
rather correcting disorder by his interpretation. If he can rationalize the
placement of the furniture with something as concrete as math, he’s thereby
removing the stress of chaos. At least that’s my guess.”

There
didn’t seem to be enough paper for Hunter to solve all the equations hidden in
the shadows of their home, so one evening, after Hunter went to bed, Braydon
produced a can of white board paint and they covered the entire wall of the
hall. Hunter spent days filling the space with numbers and sums she couldn’t
decipher. Even Braydon had reached a point of cluelessness, but continued to
encourage him all the same.

The
days that Braydon had to travel were difficult. It was amazing how much she’d
come to depend on his presence, not because he lent a helping hand—though that
helped too—but because he made her existence happier.

She’d
done a lot of thinking about moving on. Braydon made the future appear brighter
than she’d ever expected. It wasn’t until one afternoon when Kevin had Hunter
and Braydon was away on business that she’d actually realized how profoundly
he’d influenced her desire to let the past go. It was an ongoing battle, but
she was making headway.

As she
lifted the last two bags of groceries from her car, the neighbor’s car pulled
in to the adjacent driveway. Stomaching the same disquiet she always suffered
at the sight of Loretta, the woman who’d ruined her marriage, she took a few
moments to calm her nerves.

The
only way she’d ever truly move on was if she accepted the state of reality and
closed the past. With trembling hands, she lowered the bags back to the car and
brushed her palms down her thighs. She could do this.

The
alarm on Loretta’s car beeped and Becca forced her feet to move. Cutting
through the spaced out hedges dividing the yards, she cleared her throat. The
other woman turned and tensed at the sight of her. “Rebecca.”

“Hi.”
She needed to say more, but that was all she could manage at the moment. Maybe
she should tuck tail and run. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all.

Loretta
paused, looking unsure. “Is there something you need?”

Her
breath turned choppy as she truly looked at the other woman. This was her
neighbor, someone she saw nearly every day. There was no avoiding the past when
it was shoved in her face like that. Becca licked her lips. “I wanted to tell
you…” What had she meant to tell her? “I…forgive you.”

Loretta’s
eyes widened. She wasn’t a strikingly beautiful woman, but she also wasn’t
unattractive by any means. However, over time, Becca had come to realize that
while Loretta’s part in her divorce was not innocent, this woman wasn’t the
person that made vows to her. Betrayal could only be dealt by those she trusted
not to hurt her and the ultimate betrayal had been done by Kevin, not Loretta.

“You
do?”

She
swallowed and nodded. “What you did was wrong, but I don’t want to live the
remainder of my life fearing I’ll run into you. I’m finally starting over and
I’m happy. My marriage wasn’t happy before you came into the picture and it
isn’t right for me to hold you accountable for its end. While I don’t excuse
your actions, I do forgive them.” She had to, not for Kevin, or the neighbor,
but for herself.

“Wow,”
the woman said quietly. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You
don’t need to say anything. I just needed to hear myself say that. You’re
forgiven.”

They
waited in awkward silence for several moments. Finally, Becca nodded and
stepped in the direction of her van.

“Would
you like to come in for a cup of coffee?”

She
stilled. While she could take this baby step in facing her neighbor, she wasn’t
sure she’d ever be big enough to embrace that sort of camaraderie. “I have
groceries to put away.”

Loretta
nodded. “You know…he talked to me. I never meant to become what I was. At
first, we were just neighbors, friends that would sometimes discuss life. The
day you found us…it was the only time things went that far.”

Curiosity
was a dangerous thing. Cautiously, Becca asked, “It was?” She’d assumed Kevin
and Loretta had a long-term affair.

“I’m
sorry for what I did, if that means anything.”

Breathing
in, Becca exhaled slowly. “It means a lot. Thank you.” It really did. Perhaps
knowing such an inconsequential detail even restored a bit of her faith in
Kevin’s moral compass, no matter how cracked it was. Maybe it wasn’t totally
broken.

“He
never spoke to me after that day. I’m not sure I would have talked to him
anyway. What I did to you was horrible and while your forgiveness helps, I’m
not sure I’ll ever forgive myself. No woman wants to be a home wrecker.”

But
Becca wondered if their home wasn’t already wrecked. Loretta might have just
been the light shining on the subject they’d both refused to acknowledge. “We’d
been having problems for a while.”

“I
know,” Loretta said, shifting a step closer. “Which makes my actions all the
more vile. He’d told me how burdened your relationship had been and while I
sympathized, I never meant to put more pressure on an already weak thread.”

Tilting
her head, Becca measured the sincerity showing in the other woman’s eyes. “He
talked to you about us?”

“Sometimes.
At first it was just small things, like with Hunter and the work you were doing
to get him into new programs, but over time, our encounters turned into
lingering conversations and he’d confessed you two were…strained.”

She
laughed sadly. “That we were.”

“He
loved you, Rebecca. He told me so many times.”

The muscles
in her arms tightened, as ice seemed to pass through her veins. “I loved him
too, but some things are too broken to fix. Certain actions can’t be undone.”

Loretta
nodded, her gaze falling to the ground. “I’m sorry to hear that. Many times
Kevin expressed a desire to be a better husband and father. I think his
intentions were somehow misplaced along the way. I didn’t help matters.”

“No,”
she agreed succinctly. It was getting chilly and she’d started to shiver more
than what the climate demanded. “I just wanted to let you know I hold no ill
will toward you.”

“You
really are a strong woman, Rebecca,” she said in salutation. “I hope one day
you find a man strong enough to be your match. Again, I’m sorry for what I
did.”

The
words thank you wouldn’t come, so Becca simply nodded and found her way back
through the hedges. No matter how difficult it was to accomplish what she’d
just done, her instinct told her it was the right thing to do, and once the
morose haze faded she was certain she’d celebrate a new sense of pride in
taking another big step toward letting go.

* * * *

The day
they closed on the deal with Apricot, something peculiar happened. Braydon
wasn’t at the meeting, which was odd, since he was spearheading the
development.

Still
uncomfortable in Miranda’s presence, Becca tried to be professional. After the
meeting, she attempted to make small talk with his intimidating boss. “It’s a
shame Braydon couldn’t be here today. He must be really busy with the other
project he’s working on.”

Miranda
frowned. “Other project?”

Unsure
why the other woman was looking at her with clear confusion, she clarified,
“Yeah, isn’t he…” Thinking quick and not wanting to get Braydon in trouble with
his boss, she played dumb. If Miranda didn’t know about the project he was
working on there was probably good reason. The question was, why didn’t
she
? “I just assumed he had another
project if he wasn’t here. My mistake.”

Miranda
gathered her belongings from the table and smiled. “No, he had to go home to
take care of some family business. He should be back tomorrow.” Breezing out of
the office, Becca stared dumbly, digesting the bomb her boyfriend’s
very informed
ex just dropped.

He’d
given Becca the impression he was occupied with something for work and that was
what all the trips out of town were about. If something were going on with one
of the McCullough’s, why hadn’t he told her? And why had he told Miranda?

She
worried about his family, having come to care for each member. Was someone
sick? Deciding not to assume anything until she had some answers, she texted
him. This was likely one big misunderstanding.

Where are you?

His
reply took several minutes. She didn’t receive it until she was back at her
desk.

At work.
What’s up?

She
frowned. Miranda was his boss. If he were “working” she would have said just
that. Why would the other woman lie and say he was home dealing with family
business? Why would
he
lie and say he
was at work? Someone wasn’t telling the truth. She just hoped the liar wasn’t
Braydon.

This
wasn’t a discussion to have via text and his short answer told her he was
involved with something at the moment.

Will you be home tonight? Kevin has Hunter. I thought I’d
come to your place and we could talk.

For
some reason the term “talk” always put men in a panic and she regretted not
choosing her words more carefully.

Talk? Is something wrong? I should be home around six.

She
didn’t want to lie and say nothing was wrong, but she also didn’t want to
stress him out when he might have a long drive ahead of him. She, on the other
hand was totally panicking over not knowing whom he was working for or what he
was doing. And the fact that his ex seemed more informed than his actual
girlfriend was putting her in a very distressing position. But most stressing
of all was the fact that he possibly wasn’t being honest with her. She hated
secrets.