Dead Weight (10 page)

We both stopped. Neither of us spoke. His last words hung in the air like a guillotine.

Finally I put my purse down. ‘You need to leave,’ I said quietly. ‘The suitcases are in the hall closet. Get one and pack it. And leave. Right now.’

‘I didn’t mean—’ he started, but I was out of there, upstairs to my children’s rooms, sitting on Bess’s bed, stroking her new comforter and wondering if my entire adult life has been a lie.

MEGAN

I know they were doing it. I can’t believe my mother lied to me! Parents
should not
lie to their children! It’s just rude! And to see my dad all flushed like that! So gross! I still feel like I could throw up a little, ya know?

Donzel, Azalea and D’Wanda’s brother, picked me up with the twins in the back seat, me riding shotgun. He was always doing that. Donzel’s, like, almost twenty but I was pretty sure he had a crush on me. Problem: he was a total dweeb. Glasses, zits,
and
he was, like, short! Way shorter than me.
What
was he thinking? Had he no shame? How embarrassing would that be for me? I mean really! So I put on my seat belt, but still turned all the way around to talk to Azalea and D’Wanda.

‘So after I talked to y’all, I went in her closet,’ I said, continuing the saga of Mrs McClure and her dirty laundry, ‘and she has leather pants!’

‘Gross!’ Azalea said.

‘She’s so old!’ D’Wanda said.

‘I know!’ I said. ‘I can just imagine her in those pants,’ and here I shielded my mouth and whispered so Donzel couldn’t hear me and start thinking dirty thoughts about me – which I knew he did all the time – and said, ‘and one of those nipple-less bras with some sheer top over it!’

‘That’s so gross I think I’m gonna puke!’ D’Wanda said.

‘What’s she gonna show, anyway? Skinny-assed white chick!’ Azalea said.

‘I know! Right?’ I said. ‘It’s not like she’s got anything up there to brag about!’

‘But ya know, there are guys out there who like skinny chicks!’ D’Wanda said.

Being twins and all, both Azalea and D’Wanda had basically the same body type – very big boobs and very big butts. And, well, big in the middle too, but in a very attractive way. They
are
my BFFs, you know.

‘Y’all gonna buy something at the mall?’ Donzel asked.

Azalea, the nice twin, said, ‘Hush up, Donzel, nobody’s talking to you!’

‘Jeez,’ I said and rolled my eyes, which started D’Wanda giggling, and when D’Wanda giggles, everybody giggles. It’s called infectious laughter. It’s like a medical condition or something.

After we calmed down, I put my hand up to shield my mouth again, and told Azalea and D’Wanda, ‘My parents were
doing it
when I came in a while ago!’

Azalea covered her mouth with her hands, and D’Wanda said ‘Gross!’

‘I know!’ I said. ‘I thought I was gonna puke!’

The twins looked at each other then leaned forward and D’Wanda said, ‘We saw our mom doing it with her boyfriend one night!’

‘Y’all hush, now!’ Donzel said. ‘You never saw any such thing!’

‘We did, too!’ Azalea said. ‘And it was disgusting!’

Boys just don’t understand. We women are sensitive about these things. Parents shouldn’t be doing that after they have all their children. It’s like, you know, overkill.

I fell asleep on Bess’s bed. When I woke up it was dark. I felt empty, like my life’s blood had been drained from my body. How was I supposed to go on? For ten years Willis had been living a lie. Yes, I know I pushed Bess on him. But there was no other choice. None whatsoever. I had worried then that he might leave. I thought I didn’t know if the man I married was strong enough to take on a damaged child like Bess. It was a hard time for all of us. But last year, with Alicia, I didn’t even consider him – I just took her on. What was one more kid? When Willis’s former sister-in-law had showed up and dropped her four-year-old in our laps, neither of us had hesitated to take him in, even though it hadn’t lasted that long. And when a teenage girl I saved from committing suicide moved in with us, he seemed OK with that, although she hadn’t stayed that long either. But Alicia was official – our official, government-sanctioned foster child. I guess we’d be responsible for her college education. Scratch that – Willis would be responsible for her college education. He’s the one with the job, his own company. I write romance novels and, although I make a fairly good income, it was supplemental. Not something we could actually live on.

What had I done? Thrown my husband out because, in anger, he’d finally admitted something he’d held secret all these years? Something I’d never thought to ask him? I’ve been a knee-jerk, pinko, bra-burning liberal most of my life, and for the first time in that now rather long life, I had to ask myself, what kind of wife was I? I think the goal had been equality, a full partnership between a loving couple. I’d gone over my half, way over, leaving Willis at best a third. We had discussed bringing Bess into our home ad nauseum, but at the end, there was no choice. It had to be done. And I loved her like she had been yet another one to cause a fifth-degree episiotomy. I hadn’t given two seconds’ thought to bringing Alicia into our home. And maybe I should have. OK, I definitely should have.

Willis had brought up Graham’s crush on Alicia as a reason not to legally adopt her – had that been the real reason? The only reason? Now I don’t think so. What had my ridiculous and ill-advised generosity done to my family? Bess and Megan were hardly around each other anymore. Before Alicia they’d been real sisters – fighting and bickering but getting together to torment Graham. Now that dynamic was gone.

I sat down heavily at the breakfast-room table. Bess and Alicia were at the lock-in at the church, but Megan was at the mall with Azalea and D’Wanda. Twin girls who would always pick each other over Megan.

I began to tear up, and before I knew what was happening I was bawling like a baby.

How could I continue worrying about Berta Harris? How could I fulfill my promise to Ken Killian? My marriage was in trouble. I was in trouble. I dried my eyes and dialed Megan’s cell phone number.

‘What?’ she said upon answering. Obviously my name had come up on her screen.

‘Are you at the mall yet?’ I asked.

‘No,’ she said, ‘your husband met me there and drove me to the church! He’s making me go to this lame lock-in!’

‘Are you inside yet?’ I asked.

‘Mother! I’m walking in now!’

‘When you get inside I want to speak to Lisa,’ I said, mentioning the name of the youth minister.

‘Jeez! OK, I’m inside. I’m looking for Lisa. Oh, there she is.’

‘Hello?’ came Lisa’s voice.

‘Hi, Lisa, it’s E.J. Pugh. Sorry Megan’s late getting there.’

‘That’s OK, we don’t lock the doors for another hour,’ she said.

‘You might want to keep an eye on her, or tell her sisters to. Bess will rat her out in a New York minute. I’m afraid Megan might try to leave,’ I said.

‘I’ll keep an eye on her for the next hour, then she’ll have no chance to leave. When we say lock-in, we mean it!’ Lisa said and laughed.

‘Thanks, Lisa. See you in the morning.’

I hung up and considered where my husband might be. He didn’t have any single friends to take him in, and his married friends had wives that were friends of mine, so that wouldn’t be OK for him. Then I thought of the one place he’d go where he’d always be welcome. His mother’s.

I got in the minivan and drove to Codderville, to the tiny two-bedroom house my husband had been raised in. Vera, his mom, and I weren’t exactly friends, but we tolerated each other. She loved my kids, so therefore she had to accept me. This might be awkward, I thought. I knocked on her front door, and I could see through the glass in the door and the sheer curtain that Willis was coming to answer it.

When he opened the door, I said, ‘Can you come out? So we can talk?’

He nodded and stepped out on the porch, closing the door behind him. We sat in wicker chairs, away from the porch swing we usually sat in when spending time on his mother’s porch.

‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘It was a gut reaction.’

He nodded his head but said nothing.

‘Thanks for taking Megan to the lock-in. I was going to do it, but when I called her she was already at the church,’ I said. Still he said nothing.

‘Are you going to talk to me?’ I asked.

My husband shook his head. ‘I don’t have anything to say,’ he said.

‘Why don’t you come on home and we can talk about it later, or not at all. Your choice,’ I said.

Willis shook his head again. ‘No, I’m not coming home,’ he said. ‘I’m going to stay here.’

‘For how long?’ I asked, feeling bile rising.

‘I’m not sure. I might get an apartment.’

I stood up. My only other option was to take to my knees and plead with him to come home. I couldn’t do that. Looking at him, I figured it wouldn’t work anyway.

‘What do you want me to tell the kids?’ I asked.

‘You’ll think of something. Tell them I have my cell if they want to call.’ He stood too, turned his back on me, and walked back into his mother’s house.

MEGAN

What can be lamer than a church lock-in? It’s like a slumber party but with boys – and at our church, that meant a bunch of twelve-year-olds – and they literally lock you in! Me and Bess and Alicia were the only fifteen-year-olds there. None of the older kids ever came to these things, but Bess and Alicia came as volunteers to help Lisa with the younger kids. I bet my mom and dad didn’t even know that! You can’t force someone to be a volunteer, can you? I mean, isn’t that, like, voluntary, for crying out loud?

‘Hey,’ Bess said when I found them. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Mom and Dad made me come,’ I said.

‘Jeez,’ she said. ‘Why?’

‘How do I know? They’re acting weird. I caught them doing it,’ I told her and Alicia.

Bess scrunched up her nose. ‘Oh, gross!’

Alicia turned red. ‘Y’all shouldn’t talk about that.’

‘Why not?’ Bess and I said, almost in unison.

‘It’s not right. They’re a married a couple. Of course they . . . do it.’

‘Well, duh,’ I said. ‘But do I have to watch?’

Bess covered her mouth with her hands and squealed. ‘Oh, I’m gonna puke!’ she said, laughing.

Alicia, Miss Goodie-Two-Shoes, said, ‘This is not a laughing matter. Megan, you should always knock before you enter someone’s bedroom.’

Bess removed her hands from her face and pointed a finger at Alicia. ‘Sounds like someone’s had this problem themselves!’

I laughed. ‘Uh oh, Alicia, which one of your foster moms did you catch?’

Alicia walked off in a huff. ‘Was it something I said?’ I asked.

Bess laughed. ‘Oh, don’t mind her. She just gets uptight about things. She’s not like us.’

‘You mean she’s not totally weird?’ I said.

‘Exactly,’ Bess replied.

SEVEN

I
didn’t sleep well that night. Tossed and turned, had weird dreams. I woke up around three a.m. with a knot the size of Dallas in my stomach. Got up, took some Pepcid, and tried to get back to sleep. That didn’t work. I turned on the TV and stared at some cooking shows for an hour, then crawled back to bed. I woke up around five a.m. to pee, couldn’t go back to sleep.

I got up and put on my robe and went in the kitchen to make coffee. There was a message on the answering machine and I raced to see what Willis had to say. It wasn’t him. It was Graham. ‘Mom, I’m staying at Brad’s tonight. See you tomorrow.’

That was all. That meant I was alone in the house. I couldn’t stand to think what Willis and I could have accomplished on a Sunday morning all alone like this. Reading the paper in bed, drinking a third cup of coffee, laughing. Oh my God, I thought. I felt panic slipping in. I hugged myself, arms tight around my body. He’s gone, I thought, really gone. And it was my fault.

I went to the sink and turned on the cold water. It was still fairly cold – the heat of the day hadn’t yet warmed it to mid-boil. I splashed the water on my face, then dried it on a kitchen towel. Poured myself another cup of coffee. Stared out the window. Saw Luna getting in her car next door.

I rapped on the window to get her attention. She looked over and started to wave, but I beckoned her over. She shook her head, obviously at my gall, but headed to my house anyway.

‘What?’ she said, popping her head in.

‘What did Willis say to you the other night?’ I asked.

‘What do you mean?’

‘What do you think I mean?’ I all but shouted. ‘It’s a simple question!’

She glared at me, then her face softened. ‘What’s wrong?’ she asked.

I took my still-full coffee cup and dropped into a chair at the kitchen table. ‘He’s left me,’ I said.

Luna went to the cupboard and got a cup, filled it with coffee, used some sweetener, then came to the table and sat opposite me. ‘When did this happen?’ she asked.

‘Last night,’ I told her.

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Yeah, isn’t everyone,’ I said.

I felt Luna’s hand on mine and my eyes began to fill with water. Don’t cry, I told myself. Goddamit, don’t cry!

‘Why?’ she asked.

I pulled my hand from beneath hers. ‘Why what? Why did he leave? Jeez, Luna, you already know that! You probably know it better than I do! What did he say to you while you were waiting for Trisha and me to get back?’

‘With Berta “I don’t know who I am” Harris?’

I shook my head. ‘Not in the mood for your idea of humor,’ I said.

‘Right,’ she said. ‘What did Willis say? Well, he called me in the middle of the night, woke me up, said, “She’s at it again,” and hung up. I, of course, got dressed and came right over. When I came in the back door, all he said was “coffee” with a question mark, I said yes, then we sat right here at this table for almost an hour before y’all showed up. He didn’t say much of anything the entire time.’

‘How mad was he?’ I asked.

‘On a scale of one to ten, I’d say about a twelve,’ she said.

‘More than usual?’ I asked.

She shrugged. ‘Hard to tell. Like I said, he didn’t say much. But his knuckles were white where he held the coffee cup.’