Soaring (46 page)

“I walked out of my bathroom to that every morning for sixteen years, no way in fuck I’d walk away from it.”

I drew in a sharp breath and remained unmoving as that cut through me and I felt the release.

It wasn’t a bleed.

It was like opening an aching blister to get the fetid ooze out.

“He doesn’t know. He might never know,” Mickey carried on. “But do
you
know how fuckin’ stupid he is?”

“No,” I replied. “But I do know how fucking lucky
I
am right now.”

I watched his reaction to that flash in his eyes, but he remained distant until he took the last two steps to the bed and leaned over me.

He brushed the bangs out of my eyes and said softly, “Gotta get you up and dressed. I’ll walk you home and come back and take care of my kids.”

I nodded.

He let his fingers trail down my hairline before he straightened and walked away.

I got up, got dressed and Mickey walked me to my house.

He kissed me in my opened door.

And I watched him walk several steps away from me before I closed it behind him.

* * * * *

The text came mid-morning.

Can Polly and I come after school and hang?

Olympia.

I returned,
If you hang while doing your homework and getting some of these recorded shows off my DVR, then yes.

She replied,
Deal. Pick us up?

I thought of my car and while I did, I decided to buy an SUV.

Then I returned,
Sure, if we take turns. Can’t fit you both in my car.

To which I received,
You need a new car Mom. I’ll ask Auden to bring us.

I sent,
Do that, sweets. Am I making dinner?

And got,
Dinner! Yummy!

My kids liked my cooking. Then again, I cooked like a mom and could do that freely now that Conrad wasn’t around.

I replied,
Dinner. Check.

A few hours later, I got a text from Auden that said,
Drop Polly and Pip off after school. Pick them up at nine.

To which I sent,
Thanks, kid. And I’m thinking of a Cayenne.

And got back,
Land Rover. White. Totally you.

I grinned.

Then I changed the girls’ plans when they got there (a change of plans they were ecstatic about) and before homework and dinner, we went out and test-drove Land Rovers.

* * * * *

“You buy a fuckin’ car without me, Amy, it’s gonna piss me off,” Mickey said in my ear.

My daughter and her friend were gone. It was late. Now, I was in bed saying goodnight over the phone to Mickey.

I’d also, obviously, shared my plans to purchase a new vehicle.

“Do you want to test-drive it?” I asked.

“I want you not to get fucked over buying it,” he answered.

“Mickey, car salesmen hardly screw over women anymore,” I scoffed. “They freely screw over everybody.”

“You’re wrong, Amy.”

“It’s not 1968, Mickey.”

“Right, you go in, get the best deal you think you can get, then walk away. I’ll go in after and get the best deal I can get, text you, you come in and we’ll see about that shit.”

“You’re on,” I snapped.

“Tomorrow?”

“Perfect.”

“You pissed?” he asked.

“Yes,” I answered.

“Because you know you’re goin’ down,” he declared.

“Whatever,” I mumbled.

He chuckled.

I changed the subject. “The kids okay?”

“Tonight, we had the drunk driving talk. They got me as in
got me
. Tomorrow, before I show you car salesmen are still assholes, I’m goin’ in and havin’ all my teeth pulled without Novocain. Figure that’ll be a whole lot more fun.”

“Oh, Mickey,” I said quietly.

“It’s done. They get me. All I can do. Movin’ on,” he stated.

“Okay,” I said and decided it was time to change the subject again. “So, I was thinking, the kids coming over and things going better, this keeps up for a little while, when they both say they’re coming over together, I can tell them about you. Then, the next time they’re over together, you’ll be here. We can see how it goes when they get here. A quick meet and greet or you casually stay for dinner.”

“Let me know, I gotta rearrange some shit, I’ll do it.”

He’d rearrange some shit for a chance to meet my kids.

And again I was floating.

“Thanks, honey,” I whispered.

“No problem, Amy. Now hate to cut this short, but wanna check on Ash. She’s been quieter than her normal lately and has been in her room all night. Gotta check on my girl.”

That didn’t sound good at all.

But it wasn’t surprising.

“Okay, I’ll let you go.”

“Sleep tight, babe.”

“I will, Mickey. See you tomorrow.”

“Yeah. And plan to be over for dinner. We’ll get your car, come back and hang out.”

I couldn’t wait.

“Sounds good. ’Night, honey.”

“’Night, baby.”

We hung up. I read a bit.

Then I went to sleep.

* * * * *

Mickey was right.

Car salesmen still screwed over women more than men. He got my Land Rover (I got black, Auden would just have to deal) for several thousand less than I could negotiate the deal.

Cillian and Aisling came with us and hung with me while I tried my hand at the negotiations. I asked for their company because I thought this was added incentive—kids in the mix—that would make the salesmen less inclined to screw me.

I was wrong.

Cillian gloated with his dad.

Through this and all the time I spent with her that day, I found Mickey was right, but it was more.

Aisling was quieter than normal to the point that she was unusually sullen.

It also looked like she wasn’t washing her hair.

This alarmed me.

But I didn’t have a chance to say anything about it until after we had dinner, Ash had retreated to her room and closed the door, and Cill had commandeered the TV to play some game on Xbox.

This forced Mickey and me to lounge on the loveseat on the deck in our jackets.

“She’s not good,” I noted.

“Nope,” Mickey replied, rocking the loveseat with me beside him, curled into him, legs up under me, one of his arms around me, the other hand around the neck of a bottle of a beer he took a tug from after he answered.

“Does she open up to you?” I asked.

“Got no clue how to talk to an almost fifteen-year-old girl with a drunk for a mom,” he replied.

“Is she…does she have
moods
?” I pressed carefully.

“If you mean, has she started her period? Then yes,” he told me. “That happened last summer. Her mom took care of that. She comes home with boxes of shit Rhiannon gets her. I saw Midol on her dresser, made sure there was more in the bathroom. Didn’t have any sisters but did have a wife for fourteen years, so I got a clue when those kinds of moods strike. Ash gets ’em. This is not one of those.”

“I’m not sure I’m at that place where it’s okay for me to talk to her,” I noted.

“I hear you,” he muttered.

“But we can keep an eye on the situation and if she doesn’t open up to you, regardless if I’m at that place, if you want me to, I’ll go in.”

His arm tightened around me, tucking me closer. “That’d be good.”

He wanted me to.

That made me snuggle even closer.

I did that and took a sip of my wine before I asked, “Do you think they know what’s happening with you and me?”

“On the deck havin’ a drink with you and you’re over a lot. Close with the Gettys that live next door because they moved in when I was eight and never left. They’re welcome here any time. The kids love ’em. But I don’t walk them home, sit close to them on the couch or out on my deck at night, havin’ a beer.”

“Do you think that’s what’s troubling her?” I went on, even though, in the early stages, she seemed to hope her dad and I would get together.

“Again, no clue,” he said.

“You want to meet my kids, Mickey, perhaps you should think on sharing what’s happening with Cill and Ash in an official way,” I suggested. “If it’s out in the open, you can discuss it with her.”

“Great. My Sunday plans look only slightly better than my Friday night plans did.”

I grinned, lifted my head from his shoulder and looked to his jaw. “It’s not like we’re not used to this road being rocky.”

He didn’t look down at me.

He said to the dark night, “You’re right. The fuck of it is, you grow up thinkin’ things are gonna be a certain way and then they end up mostly fucked with moments of decent and flashes of really fuckin’ good.”

I snuggled my cheek to his shoulder, hating that.

Mickey had a boss he did not respect, a job he didn’t like doing that bought him taking a lot of complaints from angry people about decisions he did not make.

He’d had a wife he loved who’d become an alcoholic right before his eyes. He lost her and now she was making him live in fear for his kids not only when they were with her but what her effect was on them when they weren’t.

He needed to become fire chief.

He needed to get his business off the ground.

And Rhiannon needed to sort herself out.

As for me, I needed to do what I could to give Mickey as many flashes of really fucking good as I could.

Mickey read my mood but he read it wrong.

“Sorry, baby, you don’t need my bitching.”

“Actually, I do,” I returned. “Because if you don’t lay it on me, it’ll eat you up inside and your kids need you whole, standing and fighting. So I’ll take whatever you got. It isn’t hard. So you have that and you have what you need to take care of your babies.”

Mickey was silent and the night was still. This lasted so long it made me tense.

“Mickey?”

“Sixteen years. Fuck, that asshole blew it.”

I relaxed against him.

“I spoiled our kids,” I admitted. “Gave them everything they wanted.”

“Yeah, got a dose of that,” he returned.

“Conrad didn’t like it. He talked to me. I didn’t listen.”

“God, fuck, sorry. You’re right. It’s a wonder your kids are functioning instead of in inpatient therapy. Now I get it. You spoiled your kids. That guy had every reason to step out on you.”

There was lightness to his voice but just to be sure, I asked, “Are you joking?”

“Fuck yeah, Amy. Shit,” he answered, his voice shaking.

I pressed my cheek into his chest and also started shaking.

Then audibly giggling.

Mickey audibly chuckled with me.

When I stopped, I lifted my glass and took a sip of wine.

When Mickey stopped, he did the same with his beer.

We fell silent and sat in the dark.

But I did it hoping it was one of Mickey Donovan’s moments of decent.

Or maybe even a hint of a flash of happy.

* * * * *

The next afternoon, my phone on my kitchen counter rang.

I saw it was Mickey calling and I snatched it up, glanced at my landing, saw the TV on and bits of both my kids’ limbs. Neither of them looked my way, so casually, I took the call while walking to the hall and heading toward my bedroom.

“Hey,” I answered.

“Hey back. Havin’ a good day?”

“I think so, although I’m a little concerned about what appears to be evidence that suggests my kids have a serious television habit.”

“They’re there again?”

I made it to my room, silently shut the door and went to my bed to sit on it, saying, “Yes. It’s Sunday but they texted this morning around ten, were here within the hour. We had lunch. We took the Rover out for a spin. And we’re having dinner.”

“This is good, Amy.”

“It is, Mickey. So good. Amazingly good. But a little freaky.”

“Kids watch TV, babe.”

“I know. But something about this isn’t right.”

“How’s that?”

“One minute they’re barely speaking to me. And it wasn’t like the next minute they were. We worked up to it, got over the hump, skidded down the other side.” I crossed my legs under me on my bed. “But now we’re speeding. They’re here a lot and I
want
them here a lot. I want them here for good. I’d take them here forever. But there’s something about this change that makes me think that either they’re escaping their dad’s or Martine is perpetuating cruel and unusual punishment by not allowing two teenage kids to DVR
anything
.”

“Maybe they saw they were bein’ hard on you and they’re tryin’ to make up for it,” he suggested.

“Maybe,” I mumbled.

“Go with it. Build on it. And just have this good without makin’ it dark when you don’t know if there’s anything to worry about.”

That was good advice.

“I’ll do that.”

“Good,” he said. “Now, speaking of kids.”

“Oh boy,” I muttered.

“Yeah. Ash and Cill know their friend and next door neighbor, Amy, is Dad’s girlfriend.”

The girlfriend again.

It felt nice again.

But I was still braced.

“And?” I prompted.

“Cill’s cool with it. Not straight up, he looks after his mom, had questions about what this means for me and his mom and it wasn’t real fun to share that there was not ever gonna be a me and his mom again. He came to terms with it without throwin’ a shit fit, which was a surprise but it was good. Ash didn’t have much of a reaction except to say, ‘No kidding, Dad?’ which started to set Cill off because he thought she knew something he didn’t know and he isn’t big on that.”

“But it’s all okay now?”

“Woulda had you over for dinner tonight, but don’t think spendin’ the day with you yesterday then havin’ you back tonight would be good. But I do think, if we keep easin’ them into it, they’ll get there.”

I smiled at the phone. “That’s good.”

“So, tomorrow and Tuesday, I’m at the firehouse. That means phone on your nightstand.”

“Right,” I agreed, still smiling.

“Wednesday, your kids aren’t with you, I’m takin’ you to dinner and a movie.”

Me and Mickey in a dark movie theater.

That sounded fantastic.

“I’d love that, Mickey,” I told him. “But we’re taking my Land Rover.”