Cheating to Survive (Fix It or Get Out) (8 page)

“On to the next agenda,” Jean announced. “I need some ideas for the Memorial Day cafeteria menu. I want it to be absolutely awe-inspiring.”

****

Victoria helped Sara carry her shimmering gold prom dress into the house. “It really is stunning, Sara.”

“I know! I’m so excited.” I can’t wait to show everyone, I’m calling the gang now. Do you mind if they stop over before dinner?”

“No, not at all, I’d love the company.” Victoria removed the hanging philodendron from the hook in the ceiling and placed it on the dining room table. She climbed back on the chair and hung Sara’s dress there instead.

“There, that looks more festive than some silly plant.”

She remembered her own prom with Ed, the most riveting night of her life. Not many things topped it, possibly more exciting than their wedding. The magic took a nosedive after the honeymoon.

Victoria’s fingers ran down the full length of the charmeuse halter dress. What would she wear to her 30th wedding anniversary next year? She’d kill to wear something as sexy as this, but who would care? Who would notice?

Chapter 10
Heather

Heather strained to reposition her arm a mere inch or two to contact her mark. Her slow creep and crawl, as she stretched her fingers and edged forward in a calculating manner had purpose, she could not fail. Her right toe swooshed up and over her hip to touch the red target. She would do it. She gave them a side-glance and nodded.

“Left foot on green,” Rori said.

Impossible! Heather struggled to move her left leg but the weight on her back from Gia and Laurel caused her to crash to the floor. “No!” Heather cried, “I will not be defeated.” Rori leaped into the pile and the four of them burst into a roar of cackling and snorting. The room sounded like a gathering of witches around their poisonous brew. Toxic ingredients concocted for their nemesis.

Heather stood and seized the three of them drawing them in to her chest. “I love you guys so much. You know that, right?”

“No, actually we don’t, we’ve no idea. You hate us, it’s obvious.” Gia pretended to look at the ceiling.

“Oh, yeah?” Heather said, “I guess it’s time for…the kissing monster.” She snatched Gia by the back of her head and smothered her with eight kisses before Gia pulled away. Laurel stood before her, wide eyed. Heather lunged for her, planting her lips all over her forehead and nose.

She broke away long enough to observe little Rori perched on the side of the Twister mat, hands clasped in a knot in front of her Tigger shirt. Heather’s eyebrows rose and fell as she snaked over to her. Rori shook her head but Heather pounced and hugged her tight, smooshing her tiny face with oodles of kisses. “Kissing monster never fails to reach her mark.”

“No, no,” Rori tried to sputter in between giggles.

The front door swung open, Lance charged in plopping his briefcase on the hallway rug. “Great news, everyone!”

“What is it, daddy?” Gia entered the kitchen and extended her arms for him to lift her.

Instead of picking Gia up, he stepped around her, lifted his arms like a preacher at a sermon, chin held high, shoulders back, a gleam in his eye, and waited for all of them to respond. Would barfing on his shoes be an appropriate response?

Cue the chirping crickets
.

“I did it, I made partner. Finally. They made me partner today!”

Heather pulled Rori into her lap and straddled her reedy legs around her. Heather’s shield. Unable to respond, she contemplated her word choice. Instead of enthusiasm, her heart twisted into a lump. Empty.

Laurel sensed the pause and threw herself into her dad’s arms. Gia and Rori, unclear of the meaning to his news, followed. Three beautiful girls hugging their father, but his eyes remained on the ceiling.

Heather wrestled herself to a standing position and managed a weak smile.

Lance pushed the girls aside like they were a pack of mischievous puppies and sauntered into the center of the living room. “Yes, I did it. Partner. I knew they’d come around. They couldn’t resist me, knew I’d be an asset to their team. Only a matter of time.”

Nine years. Yep, only a matter of a decade. They probably realized he’d never go away and asked him out of sheer aggravation.

“Bet they discussed it all week. How they would tell me. Catch me at just the right time, spring the surprise on me knowing others would scoop me up if they didn’t.”

She’d like to scoop him up. Like dog shit. And toss him in a bag and dump him in the bottom of their garbage can. Watch the garbage men come, heave the can up and smash it on its side, emptying the contents, the bag perhaps breaking and spilling his remains on top of toddler barf, spoiled chicken parts and maggots.

Lance thrust his hands on his hips flipping his suit jacket tails back. “We have to celebrate of course…a party or something. This is an enormous accomplishment.”

“So was my graduation from college, passing my RD exam, landing my first job, the birth of your three daughters, their birthdays, graduations, dance recitals…”

“Yes, a party, a grand one. I’m sure my mother will have no problem throwing one for me.”

And Heather would have no problem throwing his ass out, and she was sure mommy would have no problem taking him back. His bed still had his Jets pillow on it and let’s not forget Shooba his stuffed puppy.

“In fact, we should go on vacation. The whole family.” He threw his arms into the air waiting for the audience’s applause.

Rori spun the spinner on the Twister game, unaware his babbling continued.

“Ooh,” Gia shouted. “Disney, you promised.”

“I did no such thing. Disney? That’s for kids.”

The cleft between Heather’s eyebrows collapsed from the flames thrust from her pupils. “They
are
kids. Yours. Laurel will be thirteen and none of us have ever been to Disney.”

“That’s not true, I’ve been to Disney countless times.”

“
We
have not,” she exploded. “We agreed the next vacation would be in Disney.”

Lance scanned each of them, then paused on Rori, pointing a finger at her. “She’s too little, we can’t take
her
to Disney.”

Rori’s chin trembled. Before Heather reached her, Rori chucked the spinner across the room smashing it into the wall. Tears gushed down her face, her mouth opened and quivered but no noise materialized. Silent yelps spewed, crushing Heather’s heart.

“And now she’s going to cry, ruining my moment. This is supposed to be about me.”

When wasn’t it about you?

Laurel gritted her teeth, but unsure what to do, she bolted to her room. Gia stepped back, stumbled over a sneaker and fell on her butt.

“Well that’s gratitude. I’m going out. My own family can’t even be happy for my success.” He stormed toward the kitchen but glanced back at Heather before he reached the front door. “I blame you for this. You’ve turned my girls against me.”

Chapter 11
Catherine

Catherine trudged out of Meadow Lakes Elementary school following a long drawn out PTA meeting and after working all day alongside Jean who needed help for a catering event when her prize employee called out sick. Jean had no problem pulling her dietitians from their floors to prepare food in the kitchen when it involved schmoozing administration. Hairnets, gloves and plastic aprons reminded Catherine of her first job working the tray line in a nursing home. She loved her clinical role, and playing with hors d’oeuvres when her patients needed her tensed her body. Her jaw would certainly hurt in the morning.

She steered into her driveway, turned off the ignition and collapsed into the car seat. Catherine nudged her bag of half-eaten baby carrots yearning for something more satisfying. Her insides roared, craving stimulation.

Did Peter save leftovers for her? She opened the door and slogged into the den.

Peter paced the room, cell phone in hand, homework tossed in bunches, unmatched sneakers littered the floor, the smell of popcorn wafted through the air. Peter hollered into the phone and dug his nails into his black gelled hair. Catherine retreated into the kitchen eager to fling even a morsel of food into her mouth. Her arms dangled beside her but there appeared no reason to raise them. Only abandoned popcorn bowls with worthless kernels dotted the counter tops.

Emily skipped into the kitchen still in her school clothes. “Hi mommy.” She reached up to give Catherine a tight hug.

“What are you doing up? You should’ve been in bed a half hour ago.”

“Playing with Colton and Bentley. Daddy bought them a new video game,
Demon Brain Hunters.
”

“That sounds…horrible.” Catherine marched into Bentley’s room where the two of them sat collectively on his bed, game controllers in their hands.

“Why aren’t you two in your pajamas and in bed?” They ignored her, fingers flying wildly, faces scrunched like dried fruit. “I want you in bed now. You have school tomorrow. Did you do your homework?” Nothing.

Catherine twisted back to Emily. “What did the three of you have for dinner?”

“Popcorn,” Emily whispered.

She grabbed Emily’s hand and led her to her room. “Pajamas, now.” She returned to Bentley’s room, extended her arm and ripped out a few wires, uncertain what they were. The screen went black.

“Hey, what’d you do that for?” Bentley screamed.

“It’s time for bed.”

“Dad bought it for us, it’s none of your business.” Colton chimed in.

“I’m your mother and it is my business. Colton, go in your room, Bentley, lights off.”

Catherine stormed back in to Emily’s room where she found her perched on the end of her bed buttoning her Cinderella pajama top. She sat down, wrapped her arm around her and pulled her in tight. Catherine’s hunger vanished, no longer desiring anything. “What did your dad buy you?” she asked.

“Nothing.” Emily played with the fuzz on her pajama pants. “He said I was too young for the video game.”

Of course she was too young, but he could have bought her something else. “Don’t worry, the two of us will go shopping this weekend, that’ll fix everything.”

“No it won’t. It never does. All you do is shop, shop, shop.”

Catherine’s heart shriveled into a hollow lump. Clearly, Emily was tired. She knew Emily loved shopping as much as she did. What girl doesn’t like pretty new things? It made Catherine happy, and the other mothers eyed her possessions at the meetings. She was finally fitting in.

She tucked Emily into bed and read
The Giving Tree.
Halfway through, she felt like the foolish tree. Cooking and cleaning, running to school functions, volunteering as Emily’s class mom. There would be nothing left of her. What was she getting out of all of this?

She left Emily’s room and searched the house for Peter. She found him in the garage smoking a cigarette. “Hey,” he grinned.

Catherine wanted to yell. She wanted to tell him how she really felt, but knew the repercussions would be worse. The arguments they had over the past year, shriveled her self-confidence into a forgotten raisin. A pounding vibration throbbed in her ears; she stiffened and suddenly needed to run.

“Well? Are you going to speak or just stand there staring at me like a mime?” Peter lifted his hands and pretended to be locked in a glass cage, mouth wide-open and swaying, tongue hanging out. The image jolted her.

“I didn’t understand why…” The words jarred to a halt within her mouth. She felt dizzy, her empty stomach now a rigid mass.

“What did I do wrong now?”

Catherine’s nose filled, salty fluid slid down her throat. She would not show him tears tonight. She sucked air in through her nose and squeezed her hand until nails dug into her palm. She could do this. “I was wondering why the kids had popcorn for dinner, and why they were still awake.”

“Look, you had to go to one of your stupid ‘I need to be a part of the spring tulip extravaganza meetings.’ I was extremely busy tonight, and I didn’t have time to cook. They won’t die.”

“It wasn’t a tulip meeting,” Catherine whispered, barely audible. “It was—”

“Sitting around with a group of other woman cackling.” Peter switched to a high pitch voice, “Now shall we pick the pink tulips or the pale yellow ones?”

“It wasn’t…a tulip…meeting.” Her chin trembled.

“Then maybe it was a meeting to discuss why we should go door to door selling jelly beans, or perhaps Rice Krispies Treats.”

“We…don’t…do that.”

“I got it. Why not sell Coach bags door to door? Yeah, that’s a great idea, think big. Forget the chump change, go right for their savings accounts.”

“We don’t do that! We discuss important matters that affect your children.”

“How about important matters like your children needing dinner tonight, and their homework to be checked? They need you here, not at stupid meetings.”

“I like the meetings.”

But he didn’t hear her. He jumped into his car and zoomed out of the garage.

“It makes me feel important,” she hollered at the empty garbage pail. “I am important. I am, damn you.” Catherine whipped her hands up to her face but not before tears fell from them and drenched her palms.

Chapter 12
Victoria

Victoria laughed out loud at the story the unit secretary reenacted. Two other nurses joined in and soon the entire nursing unit exploded into a giant laugh fest comparable to a comedian’s opening night.

“I never laughed so hard,” Victoria snorted. “I need that, the last few weeks have been—”

“Victoria, excuse me, can I speak to you a moment?” Dr. Pierce bent over Victoria’s computer and the bags under his eyes shot at her. She recoiled and then inched her chair away from him. She hated close talkers.

“Yes, what can I help you with?”

“I happened to pop into one of my patient’s rooms, a patient with
diabetes
,” he emphasized, “and I was shocked to see a container of apple juice on his tray.”

“And?”

“He’s a diabetic.”

“No, he
has
diabetes, he’s not a disease.”

Dr. Pierce squinted. “Regardless, they should not be receiving juice on their trays.”

“Why not? A carb is a carb. It doesn’t matter if it’s juice, or bread, or a Snickers bar, they are all pre-portioned to provide one serving. Fifteen grams of carbohydrates equals one serving of– ”