Best Kept Secret (29 page)

This is wrong. It just feels so incredibly wrong. I have always planned Charlie’s birthday parties. Not Martin. Me. He shows up, gives the other children airplane rides or fills up water balloons for them. Who the hell does he think he is? I screwed up, yes. But does that completely erase my worthiness as Charlie’s mother? Does that mean I don’t ever get a say in anything about his life ever again?

“God
dammit,
” I say out loud to an empty room. I make a strange growling noise and pound my fists on my desk.

I can’t
stand
this. I can’t do it. I feel wild. Unstable. I need to get away from myself. I decide to head over to my favorite neighborhood coffee shop, convinced that outside of going to a meeting, a white chocolate mocha is another perfectly legitimate motivation to leave the house.

The door at Wholly Grounds jingles as I step inside and a barista gives me a welcoming smile. I glance over to the corner opposite the fireplace where the owners have set up a twenty-foot-square, gated-off area filled with kids’ tables and toys. A large sectional couch sits right outside this enclosed play area so mothers can chat and sip coffee while keeping an eye on their children. There are four women sitting on the couch today and a handful of kids in the play area. My
eyes flicker across them quickly, doing my best not to let my emotions get the better of me at seeing mothers with their children. I can’t keep melting down. There’ll be nothing of me left.

“Cadence!” a voice calls out. I stop in my tracks and look back to the sectional, only to realize that the women sitting there are Brittany, Renee, Susanne, and another woman I don’t recognize.

I give them a hesitant smile and a quick wave. I’m not in the mood to talk. I want to get my coffee and run back to my house. But Brittany beckons me over, so I take a deep breath and go to say hello. “Hey, everyone.” I smile at the woman I don’t know, feeling oddly unnerved. “I’m sorry. I don’t think we’ve met.”

“I’m Julia.” She motions over to the children, who all appear to be about Charlie’s age. “And that’s Cody over there, in the brown T-shirt. With the whipped cream on his face.”

I smile, but my chest feels tight. It’s hard to breathe. I feel like the specimen smeared on a glass slide under a microscope.

Brittany sits forward and sets her cup on the table in front of them. “I haven’t seen you in ages. How have you been?”

“I’m good. Busy with the writing, as always. How are things going for you?”

“I’m wonderful.” She beams, running her palm over her abdomen. “Pregnant again.”

“Really? That’s great.” It must be early in her first trimester; her stomach is completely flat. I swallow hard. I just want to get my coffee and go home. I look over to Susanne, who hasn’t said a word. “How’s Anya?” I ask.

“She’s fine.” She flashes a swift smile, then looks immediately away.
What’s the deal with that?
I know we haven’t been talking much, but I didn’t expect it to be this awkward between us.

“Where’s Charlie?” Renee asks, peering over the top of the couch, searching for my invisible child.

My arm reflexively reaches out behind me as though Charlie were standing right there. As though I could hold his hand. I read
once about a man who lost a leg at the knee after an accident. He talked about reaching for his right foot to put on a shoe every day for years, even after the leg was gone. I imagine how I feel in this moment is a little bit like how he felt when he had to pull back from reaching to his foot.

My cheeks explode with heat as the other women watch me drop my arm back to my side with quizzical expressions on their faces. I scramble for the right explanation. “He’s spending some time with Martin today,” I say, finally settling for an abbreviated version of the truth.
We’re only as sick as our secrets.
“Father-son bonding time.”

I catch Susanne throwing a quick sidelong glance at Brittany, whose eyebrows lift almost imperceptibly. A sense of trepidation begins to coil in my belly.

“That’s important for them to do,” Renee says. “Rick spends every Tuesday night with Juan. They go to the park and then out to dinner so I can get some alone time.”

“Huh,” Julia says. “Alone time? What’s
that
? I couldn’t get Steve to spend an evening with his son if his life depended on it.”

“You don’t have to pick up Charlie any time soon, do you?” Brittany says. “You should join us. Get your coffee and come have a seat.”

“Oh. Okay. Great. Thanks.”
What else could I say?
I shuffle back from foot to foot, looking at Susanne for some kind of support, but she still doesn’t meet my gaze. I guess what Andi said was true—our friendship has shifted for good. Or maybe it wasn’t a friendship at all. At least not the kind that is good for me.

“Great.” Brittany smiles again. Susanne stares at her coffee cup, Renee looks over to the play area, checking on her son. My eyes follow hers, automatically searching the group of children for my son’s face. Though it shouldn’t, not seeing him there startles me. My heart jumps a beat in my chest before I remember he’s not here.

As I step away from them, the whispers start. It’s Renee, just barely loud enough for me to hear. “Does she think we don’t know?”

And then Brittany: “Martin told me she’s an absolute mess. He had to step in.”

“Of
course
he did,” Renee agrees, keeping her voice low. “I mean, really. Wouldn’t you?”

“What?” Julia asks. “Does she think we don’t know what?”

Susanne doesn’t say a word.

My throat seizes up. My stomach clamps down on itself and I freeze where I stand. They all know. It had to be Susanne. She told them. How could she
do
that? I can’t drink with her anymore, so she starts gossiping about me? What the
hell
? And I’m sure once Brittany got the scoop about my going to treatment, she must have talked to Martin at Charlie’s preschool and pumped him for all the details.

I want to run away. I want to pick up my feet and force them right out the door. But I don’t. Instead, I spin around to face them, my eyes bright. I swallow, trying to keep the tears at bay. I don’t want to give them the satisfaction. They stop talking and look up at me. They’re caught.

“You know what?” I say, staring straight at Susanne. “I actually need to work today. I don’t have time for coffee.”

Susanne drops her eyes to the floor again and Renee simply stares back at me. Julia looks confused.

“Oh,” Brittany says, the only one who doesn’t look away. “That’s too bad.”

Yeah, too bad.
I want to defend myself. I want to ask each one of them if they’ve ever done anything shameful in their own lives. If they’ve ever hurt anyone they love; if they’ve behaved in a way they’d do anything in the world to erase. My blood feels like fire beneath my skin as I consider what they must think of me. I might as well be standing naked in front of these women.

I might as well still be drunk.

S
ince Charlie is with
me over Memorial Day weekend, I invite Jess and Derek and the boys over to my house for a barbecue. Jess and I have talked a bit about what amount I could list the house for, but Derek wants to do a once-over on maintenance issues and ways I might fix the place up for a quicker, more profitable sale. Jess and I get the chicken and vegetable skewers ready for the grill while Derek completes his inspection.

“Well,” he says as we sit down to eat at the picnic table in the backyard, “it might need some electrical work to come up to code. And a few of the rooms need fresh paint. But otherwise, it’s pretty solid. I think if we spruce up the yard and price it just under what others have listed for in your neighborhood, it’ll go quick.”

“That’s great,” I say. “Will I lose anything?”

Derek shakes his head. “You shouldn’t. You bought the place before prices really started to go up around here. You’ll come out ahead, for sure.”

“I don’t
want
you to sell our house, Mommy,” Charlie says. “I like it.”

I smile at my son. “I know, baby. I wish I didn’t have to, but we’ll find another place just as nice.”

“Like Daddy’s house? We could live there, since Shelley doesn’t stay there anymore.” He looks hopeful.

Jess gives me a bemused smile and I chuckle. “I don’t think
that would work for us very well, either, Charlie bear. Don’t worry, though. Uncle Derek will help us find something.” I swing my gaze to my brother-in-law and he nods.

“Absolutely. There are some great deals to be found. I’ll keep my eye out for a repo or short sale on a condo. In Edmonds, maybe. Near the water.”

“We could live near the beach, Charlie,” I say. “What do you think about that?”

“Yeah!” Charlie says, and I am relieved he is so easily appeased.

When the kids are out of earshot and Derek is in the house grabbing another soda from the fridge, Jess turns to me. “Have you talked to Mom since you went to her office?”

I shake my head. “Has she said anything to you?”

“Not really. She’s acting weird. Maybe you should try again.”

“Maybe,” I say. “We don’t have the best track record when it comes to communicating.”

“Emotional crap makes her uncomfortable. Where do you think
you
got it?”

I laugh. “Yeah, how did you luck out?”

She shrugs. “I dunno. I’m just wired differently.” I wonder if this is true. She and I basically had the same childhood, yet I’m the one with all the issues.

She sighs and looks over to the kids. “So, you’re really going to sell this place?”

“I have to. I can’t afford it anymore.”

“What about work? Have you sold anything lately?”

“Don’t ask. I’m totally procrastinating.”

“Well, you know what procrastination and masturbation have in common, don’t you?” She waits a beat, then answers her own question. “When it comes right down to it, you only end up screwing yourself. “

*   *   *

The following Wednesday, for my weekly dinner with Charlie, I decide to invite my mother to come along. I’ve been regretting my petulant behavior from the last time we talked, and after my own meeting with Mr. Hines, I am even more anxious to know what she plans to say to him. I call her first thing in the morning on Wednesday and Keiko offers to convey the message to her since she is already busy with a patient.

“She told me she’d love to,” Keiko says when she comes back on the line. “I’ll make reservations for you at the Spaghetti Factory, if you like. Sharon said it’s Charlie’s favorite place.”

I smile, touched my mother managed to remember this detail about her grandchild. “That would be great. Thanks.”

I pick Charlie up from Alice and we meet her at the restaurant near her office around seven o’clock. Even after a long day with patients, my mother’s brown hair is sleek and her casual khakis and white cotton sweater are still smooth and spotless.

Charlie runs to greet her. “Nana! I’m having ’sketti for dinner. Do you want it, too?”

My mother hugs him and laughs. “I think Nana might have to settle for a salad, but I might have to steal a bite or two of yours, if that’s okay.”

“Sure!” Charlie speeds back to his seat and clambers up into the chair next to me. “You sit there, okay, Nana?” He points to the chair across from him with his chubby index finger.

“Okay,” my mother says, and she slides into her seat. “Hello, darling.” She gives me a big smile. “How are you?”

“I’m doing okay,” I say, which is about as honest an answer as I can muster up. “How are you?”

“I’m well. Busy as always.”

We place our orders and before our food comes, my mother helps Charlie color on his placemat. “Look, Mommy,” he says. “Look at me color with the blue crayon.”

“Yes, sweetie. You’re doing a wonderful job.”

“Try to stay inside the lines, sweetie,” my mother says.

“He doesn’t need to, Mom,” I say. “It’s creative, like thinking outside the box.”

She sits back in her chair and sets the crayon she’d been holding back on the table. “Okay.” Her expression is blank; we’ve clashed on issues like this before. I want Charlie to know it’s okay for him not to do everything perfectly; she spent much of my childhood expecting me to do nothing less.

The server delivers our food and outside of both of us talking to Charlie, my mother and I don’t say much to each other for the rest of our meal. I’m anxious to ask her if she’s come to any kind of decision about her meeting with Mr. Hines, but it’s not appropriate to talk about it with Charlie here. She gets up to leave before I’ve paid the bill.

“I’m exhausted,” she says. “Thank you so much for inviting me, though.” She waggles her fingers at Charlie. “Nana loves you, honey.”

“I love you, too!” Charlie says. He slurps a single noodle up into his mouth and specks of marinara sauce spatter all over his cheeks.

“ ’Bye, Mom,” I say, grabbing a napkin to wipe my son’s face. “You’re a monkey, you know that?”

“Ooo-ooo-ooo!” Charlie says, mimicking a chimpanzee’s call.

I laugh. “You silly kid. I love you so much.”

“Love you, Mommy! All the way to the stars and back.”

Alice is waiting by the front door when I drop Charlie back off half an hour later.

I hug my son and try not to cry as I drive away. I grab my cell and punch in my mother’s number. She has to be home by now.

“Hi, honey.” Her voice is tense. My pulse speeds up.

Why is this so hard for her? Why can’t she just say, yes, of course you should have Charlie? Isn’t that what any good mother would say? I decide to dispense with any niceties and ask her the hard question. “Are you worried I’ll start drinking again, Mom? Is that why you haven’t decided what you’re going to say to Mr. Hines?”

She is silent for a moment. “Yes,” she finally says.

I have to swallow a couple of times to keep from crying. “I guess I understand that,” I say. “There are no guarantees I won’t.”

“No, there aren’t,” she says. Her voice is barely a whisper.

“I’m doing everything I can.”