Emancipating Alice (6 page)

“Well, with a father like me…hey what’s this?”

“Oh—I was about to read it earlier. It looked pretty interesting but I didn’t really get to see what it said.”

George’s eyes skimmed the story and she watched his face gradually fall. It seemed as if night had crawled under the door and settled over the kitchen. Alice even looked up to see if the light was still on, the darkening of the mood so palpable.

Watching his face, she felt for him then, for she saw the George who had cried at the news of death of people he had known, the George susceptible to intense empathy.

He looked absolutely crushed by the news.

She grabbed the paper from him and laid it on the table.

“Let’s not think about that now—we should celebrate our good news!”

He stared at the paper where it lay, wrinkled here and there where Elaine had grabbed it and where Alice had held it against her body.

He shook his head.

“That’s a pretty messed up story,” he said. “What a tragedy.”

She thought she heard his voice start to break but she wasn’t sure.

Such a softie sometimes,
she thought, feeling sorry for him.

She started leading him away from the kitchen, away from the gloom.

She put on a cheery face.

“So, if it’s a girl, got any name ideas?”

He shrugged.

“You can name her this time if it’s another girl.”

“And if it’s a boy?”

He thought for a moment.

“Andrew George Owens,” he said with finality.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Wednesday, June 28th 2006

Greenwood, Indiana

Drew packed a bag for Jack as quickly as he could. He had told his mother he would take the next flight out and he would have been there within half an hour of his flight leaving, true to his word, but he decided to drive there instead. It would only be about a four-hour drive, and he preferred to have his car with him—he had no idea how long he’d end up staying at his mom’s.

Jack was not happy about being pulled from soccer camp one day early—he was having too good a time playing his favorite sport all day every day. He planned to be a famous soccer player when he grew up and was eager to work toward that goal. He wanted to be like Beckham. When Jack had told him about his goal, Drew had only smiled at him. Beckham was just a pretty face as far as he was concerned. He hoped his son would learn the game was more than just executing cool tricks.

Although Drew was one hundred percent behind his son pursuing his interests, Jack’s mother, Lacey, thought soccer was for pansies. She had tried to get Jack interested in football, or at least baseball, but Jack was steadfast in his sport.
I guess I’m lucky he at least doesn’t want to be a ballet dancer,
she’d said one day to Drew—and not without sarcasm—as she gave up on dissuading the child from soccer. She eventually gave up on both of them.

Drew couldn’t help thinking about Lacey every day—it was still so recent since she had left them. Sometimes he felt like she had just gone on a really long trip and would come back any day soon. But then he remembered that she now held in her grip the type of man she had always wanted—large, stocky and full of testosterone. On top of that, the guy was somewhat well off—a professional athlete. She had gotten herself a football player after all.

Drew had been served divorce papers six months ago but Lacey did not stick around for discussion. She had packed up all she wanted from the house one day—which wasn’t much—left, and he had been served the following day.
No fault—irretrievable breakdown of the marriage.

Drew still remembered the day she had finally revealed her thoughts and feelings, the day before she had left for good. She was getting ready to go out and had not mentioned her plans, so naturally, he asked her where she was going. She stopped lacing up her sexy knee-high black boots to look at him.

“Drew, I’m not gonna lie: I’m going out with this guy I met yesterday and I really like him; he’s exactly what I’ve always wanted.”

She had tossed her golden hair over her shoulder, and looked at him firmly with her beautiful dark eyes. That night, those lovely eyes were not apologetic; she was resolute.

As upset as he was getting, he could not help but admire her beauty as she stood there in her super-short black dress with her honey-colored hair thick and wavy around her face. He had always wondered how he had managed to catch such a goddess, and now the day he had always feared had come; just as he had suspected, he was not good enough for her after all.

The problem was, as far as he could tell, she was always looking for a new adventure, something else to add to her list of things she had done during her stay on the planet. Marrying him was one, her job-hopping—from modeling jobs to waitressing, to administrative jobs—were another, and having Jack was yet another. She settled down a bit after Jack was born, taking up various hobbies and crafts, but by the time Jack was three she was job-hopping again for another few years. Drew supposed that her jobs kept her busy for a while, stopped her from noticing that she was done with the family adventure. But when she stopped working for a month, she must have realized that she was bored with the men in her life and so, naturally, embarked on a new journey. Her zest for life was part of what he loved about her, the way she saw each day as a chance to do something new; even if it was what worked against him in the end.

Drew missed looking at Lacey, touching her, hearing her voice. He missed the way she would interact with Jack and was still in shock that she had been able to leave the boy the way she did. When she left, Jack had asked him every day for weeks when she was coming home, and Drew kept hoping she would, that he would not have to tell Jack the truth.
She’ll stop by later, later,
he kept saying to Jack, not fully believing Lacey had abandoned her child for good although he was starting to accept she wasn’t coming back. Then one day, Lacey called him. She did not want the house, alimony, his name, their son; she just wanted Scott, her two-hundred and fifty pound new pet.
But take care of Jack now, you hear?
she had the nerve to say. As if he needed to be told.

Jack cried every day for a week when Drew finally told him Lacey was never coming back, and when Jack asked why, Drew had no answer for him but:
I don’t know kiddo.
He had to fight a strong desire to put the blame on Lacey, paint her as the she-devil she was, but he stopped himself when he realized how much it would hurt Jack even more. It broke Drew’s heart to see Jack so sad and withdrawn. To tell him that his mommy wasn’t coming back because she was selfish, because she did not love either of them would only make matters worse for Jack. Already, Jack was leaning toward blaming himself.

Was I bad?
he had asked once. Was it because he played soccer instead of football or baseball like she wanted? Did she get another kid? Did she not love him anymore? What if he cleaned up his room?

Drew assured him that she loved him, that he was a good kid, anyone would love him. He told Jack that she was thinking about him every day and hoped it was true.

He tried to explain the new arrangements to Jack as best as he could:

Daddy and Mommy have just decided not to live in the same house.

But why?

Well…Mommy has some things she wants to do, and she can’t do it while she’s here.

He mentally patted himself on the back for his civil answer. Jack looked down a moment, thinking or feeling—Drew wasn’t sure which—and when he looked back up at him, Drew knew what was coming next from his son.

What kind of things? Does this mean she might come back after all?

Drew shook his head.
I’m afraid not, Jack. She doesn’t want to do them with me around.

But what about me?

She still loves you, Jack,
was all he could say.

Well, how come she doesn’t love you anymore?
Drew ignored the pain that shot through him at the words spoken so plainly and innocently, the question that tortured him most of his days even though he knew the answer.

She just doesn’t,
was all Drew could say, and thankfully, Jack decided to cease the questioning.

Drew was glad he still had Jack for company and was almost glad he had him all to himself. To now be mother and father to the boy was a welcome challenge. Jack had always been his pride, the source of his daily joy. One of the best things he had done.

Once Jack was born, Drew was happy to participate in nurturing the child, and Lacey was happy that he did. She bounced back quickly, and while she was an attentive mother, she would gladly hand Jack over to him to look after while she took care of other things. Jack had taken paternity leave from work, researched care-taking on the net and even bought baby-rearing magazines although Lacey’s plan was to just wing it. He would even call his mother now and then for tips. He gave Jack baths, fed him, burped him, dressed him, walked him, talked to him, played with him. He wanted to do everything right.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t much he could find regarding explaining a mother’s willing departure; the magazines didn’t really go into that.

Drew felt especially bad for Jack because after losing his mother recently, he now had to find out he had lost his grandfather too.

Drew had heard that bad things came in threes; he hoped it wasn’t true in this case.

“Why did I have to leave camp early?” Jack asked for the fifth time when they got home after Drew had picked him up from the camp.

Once Drew had given him his bath, Jack noticed the packed bag in his room and asked:

“Where are we going?”

“Are we gonna see mommy?” he asked as he put on the clothes Drew had laid out for him on the bed. The hopeful look on Jack’s face made Drew turn away from him momentarily.

Drew shook his head and tried to sound cheerful.

“We’re actually going to see grandma! Aren’t you excited?”

Jack shrugged, his smile fading.

“I guess. But why did I have to leave camp early? Why couldn’t we wait till later?” he asked, getting ready to put on his shoes and socks.

“Because…” Drew bent down to help him, “...because grandma needs us right now.”

“Why? Why does she need us right now?”

“Well, she has to clean up the whole house and she needs me to help her with grown-up stuff.”

“Can’t grandpa help her?”

Drew sighed and straightened up, lifting Jack to sit him on the bed in the process.

“Jack…” He let out a long sigh. “Son, grandpa went to heaven yesterday.”

Jack’s eyes grew round.

“You mean he’s dead?”

Drew nodded.

Jack looked down for a moment, then back up at him.

“Is everyone going away now?” Jack asked. His tone was soft but serious, and had no hint of self-pity; Jack wanted the facts. This made Drew even sadder.

Drew sat down next to Jack and gathered his son into his arms, blinking back tears.

“I’m not leaving you, Jackster. I’m always gonna be here for you, okay? And grandma’s still here…”

“Yeah, but she’s old. She’s gonna die too. And you’re gonna get old someday too…” Jack looked down again.

Drew’s attempts at holding back his tears failed when he saw his son’s small hand go up to his eye quickly. Jack wasn’t outright crying—Drew could tell he was trying to be strong, but the damp spot on the back of his hand gave him away. Drew’s heart grew heavier as he watched his son try to be a brave boy.

As he sat there with his son in his arms, caressing his head, he found himself releasing everything he had held back the past six months—the loneliness, frustrations, anger, and pain over Lacey. He thought about how he’d never see his father alive again.

He almost smiled as he thought about how Lacey would not like to see her two boys now—a weeping set of wusses, she would think them.

***

Drew was glad he had decided to drive—he could make this a fun trip for the two of them although it was only a few hours. But he knew it would probably feel like forever to Jack.

Drew tried to think up verbal games they could play on the way to cheer Jack up as he put their bags in the car.

Before they left, he made Jack a sandwich, then wrote a note on the living room table, a toy frog as the paperweight.
Off to my mom’s, my dad died.—Drew.
He knew it was silly, that no one would see it, but just in case Lacey stopped home, he wanted her to know where they were. He had never changed the locks and she still had the key as far as he knew. As an added measure, and for the benefit of others who might call, he changed the answering machine message as well:

Hey! You’ve reached the home of Drew Owens. Today is Wednesday, June twenty-eighth, and Jack and I are not here right now. If you need to reach us, call my cell. Thanks.

As he ushered Jack out of the door, he glanced up at the enlarged headshot of Lacey on the wall of the living room, her eyes looking slyly back at him. He had been unable to remove anything that had belonged to her, unable to take down or turn away photos of her. Whatever she left, he left them just as she had left them. He even still had a photo of her in his wallet and his marriage ring on his finger.

He turned away from the photo, closed the door and locked it behind them.

***

On the drive to Illinois, Jack sat silently in the car, and no matter how many times Drew tried to start up a game with him he just sat and stared out the window at nothing.

“What are you thinking about kiddo?” Drew asked him at last.

Jack took a moment before answering.

“About soccer. And the new Harry Potter. And KFC.”

Drew could tell he was trying not to mention the things that were really bothering him at the moment.

“So you want KFC, li’l man?”

He knew Jack was nodding without looking at him. “Well then—you’ve got it. We’ll stop at the next one that pops up.” He paused. “You know I’ll do anything for you right, Jack?”

Jack nodded again.