Ex and the Single Girl (36 page)

The floodgates opened, and thirty years of hurt and anger and confusion came out in enough tears to drown a small city. I couldn
’
t have stopped it if my life dep
ended on it. Through it all, he held me tight to him, running his hands over my hair, telling me he was sorry.

“
It
’
s okay,”
I choked finally, pulling back and swiping the back of my hand over my soppy face. “
It
’
s not your fault. But I didn
’
t know...I didn
’
t know until...”

He struggled to pull on a small smile. I could see that his eyes were shiny and that it was taking a lot out of him to hold them at shiny. “
I know. Marianne told me.”

I pulled my shirtsleeve down over my hand and mopped at my face, letting
go with a feeble laugh. “
Great first impression, huh?”

He smiled. “
You made your first impression on me at the hospital.”
I raised my eyes to his. He let out a stuttered sigh, watching me with the same loving expression he
’
d had the day he picked me up in
his arms and waltzed me around the room. Another surge of emotion overtook me, and I could feel my eyes welling up with fresh tears.

“
Baby, I
’
m so sorry.”
He coughed and pinched his fingers over his eyelids. “
I should have never let this go so long. I was
just scared.”

I swiped at my face. “
Scared of what?”

“
That you
’
d be so mad at me for taking so long, you wouldn
’
t want me in your life,”
he said.

I felt my face crumple again and I shook my head. “
I
’
m not mad.”

His face contorted for a moment and then he
pulled on a smile. “
Well, you should be.”

“
Jack?”
A woman
’
s voice came through as the screen door squeaked. Jack stepped aside and turned around to face a short, pudgy woman with blond hair wiping her hands on a dish towel. She looked from me to Jack, then
put her hand to her mouth with a gasp. “
Is this...?”

Jack nodded. “
Portia, this is my wife, Marianne.”

Marianne waved her hand in front of her face as her eyes
filled
up.

“
I
’
m sorry,”
she said, her voice tight and high with emotion. She looked at Jack and
grabbed his hand, squeezing it and raising it to her heart.

“
I
’
m going to get y
’
all something to drink,”
she said, stepping back toward the door. “
Portia? What
’
s your drink?”

“
Water would be great,”
I said.

“
You bet.”
She looked at Jack, smiled, and disap
peared into the house.

Jack raised his hand to the Adirondack chairs on the porch and we both sat. We were quiet until Marianne brought us each a glass of ice water, and then once she went into the house again, Jack began to speak.

“
Did you talk to your mo
ther?”

“
No,”
I said. “
I mean, I confronted her. But she didn
’
t say anything.”

He gave a sad laugh. “
That
’
s Mags for you.”

He took a sip of his water. I stared into my melting ice.

“
I can
’
t believe she did that,”
I said. “
She had no right to send those lett
ers back. She had no right to throw you out and not tell you why.”

I could see his head turn in my direction out of the corner of my eye, but I continued to stare into my glass.

“
Don
’
t be angry with her.”

My head shot up. “
What? How can I not be angry?”

“
I
’
m not saying you don
’
t have a right to be angry,”
he said. “
As my daddy used to say, just because you have a right to be angry doesn
’
t mean you should be.”

“
How can you say that? Aren
’
t you mad?”

He shook his head. “
I used to be. But, truth is, maybe she
was right. Maybe we would have just drove each other crazy in the long run. And I knew where you were. I could have come and beat down the door until she let me see you. You
’
re gonna be mad at one of us, you
’
re gonna have to be mad at both. And you alread
y
said you
’
re not mad with me, so...”

“
I don
’
t know how you
’
re not furious,”
I said. “
I
’
m furious. I
’
m so angry right now I could spit.”

“
Well, I
’
ve known the whole story a lot longer than you.”

I took a sip of water and sat back in the chair. Jack sat back
in his chair as well, and we both looked at the sky. When he spoke again, his voice was soft and thoughtful.

“
There
’
s no other person on the planet as true to her own self as your mama is,”
he said. “
There
’
s a cost that comes with loving someone like that
. They march to the beat of their own drum, and a person can make himself crazy trying to figure out that rhythm.”
I didn
’
t say anything. He sighed. “
I guess what I
’
m saying is that your mama is who your mama is, and once you accept that, you
’
ll love her
s
o much your heart
’
s gonna be fit to burst.”

I looked at him, watched him staring at the sky with a faraway smile on his face.

“
Do you still love her?”
I asked. I hadn
’
t meant to voice the thought out loud, but I was in no state to be coy.

Jack raised his e
yebrows at me. “
My heart burst over Mags a long time ago.”

That was enough of an answer for me. I looked back out at the sky, clear and deep blue and glittering with stars.

“
I know she
’
s talked to you about visiting in September.”
I waited for him to speak
. When he didn
’
t, I nudged. “
Are you going to see her? Like she asked?”

He paused for a while before speaking. “
I don
’
t know. I assumed it must have been about you. That
’
s why I put her off until September, to give me some time to track you down.”

I shook
my head. “
She says it has nothing to do with me.”

“
Well, if it doesn
’
t concern you, I
’
m not sure it
’
d be right. I
’
ve got Marianne to think of now. Seeing Mags again ..He looked down at his hands, then back up at me. “
Well, I
’
m just not sure it
’
d be right.”

I nodded. “
What does Marianne have to say about it?”

He gave a small laugh. “
Oh, she
’
s been buggin
’
me to go. She thinks it might help me gain
closure.
”
He took a drink and laughed again. “
That
’
s an Oprah word, isn
’
t it?”

I laughed. “
Sounds like Marianne
is a good woman.”

“
She is. She
’
s excited about getting to know you. She wanted me to invite you here for Thanksgiving, matter of fact.”

I smiled. “
Really?”

“
She makes the best homemade cranberry sauce you ever tasted,”
he said, winking at me.

“
I
’
d like tha
t,”
I said. I put my glass down and stood up. Jack did the same. I looked out toward the street, where I could see the moonlight reflecting off the Hyundai
’
s hood.

“
I have a friend waiting for me.”

Jack looked out to the car, then back at me. “
Oh, sure. We
ll.”
He looked at me and smiled. “
You need anything, you call me, you hear?”

“
Sure,”
I said, smiling.

“
No, no, don
’
t you
‘
sure
’
me, young lady.”
He reached over and gave my shoulder a squeeze. “
I mean it. I got a lot of time to make up for. I don
’
t care wh
at it is. I started me up a lumberyard in town does pretty well. You ever need a job...”

I laughed. “
I
’
m an English Ph.D. candidate. I
’
ll definitely be needing a job.”

He smiled. “
No kidding? Ph.D., huh?”

“
Yeah, but I don
’
t know if it
’
s what I want to do a
nymore.”
He grinned. “
You finish that Ph.D., and if you ever want a job at the lumberyard, we
’
ll talk.”

I grinned back. I doubted I
’
d be moving to Tuscaloosa, but he
’
d offered. And that mattered.

“
Well, then,”
he said, motioning his head toward the car. “
Y
our friend is waiting. It was good to see you. Don
’
t be a stranger.”

“
I
won't
.

“
Okay, then,”
he said, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his trousers. “
You go on with your friend now.”

“
Say good-bye to Marianne for me,”
I said.

He smiled. “
I will.”

I too
k a step toward him and he pulled me into a hug. “
Don
’
t you be too hard on your mama, now,”
he said. “
She
’
s just a human person like the rest of us, and we all get things wrong every now and again.”

I held on to him for a bit longer, waiting for the hug to
fill in all the little empty pockets I felt in my heart. He got a lot of them.

But not all.

Chapter Twelve

“
Are you sure we
’
re not going to get in trouble?”
I asked as Peter put his hands on my waist and boosted me up. The chain-li
nk fence looked eerily bluish in the moonlight and glittered as I stuck my foot in and grabbed hold.

“
No,”
he said. “
Now, hurl yourself over the top. And don
’
t drop the beer.”

I adjusted the backpack over my shoulders and tossed myself down on the other si
de of the fence, landing in a cloud of dust at the bottom. Peter hopped down beside me.

“
I
’
m not sure this is a good idea,”
I said.

Peter laughed and wiped his hands on his jeans. “
You asked to do something stupid and fun. That comes with a little risk.”
I
looked behind me at the swing sets and slides. “
Right. Besides, it
’
s a public school. My taxes pay for this, right?”