Inside Out (21 page)

After everything they had gone through, Garrett had remained unbroken, unshaken, and now the weight of the world which he had so superbly balanced was too much. Tracey didn't grieve for herself then. She had done enough of that.

There was a tap at the door, and she wiped his tears with her hands.

After Tracey and Baby Nathalie came home from the hospital, her mother insisted she stay in her old room for the first couple of weeks with the baby. She'd been foolish a time or two, but she made the wise choice this time and snapped up all the help and coddling she could get. Her parents were great; her friends were great; even Garrett was great. Still visibly uncomfortable in the presence of her parents, the new, doting father braved it anyway. He also braved the tension between them to be there for his daughter who looked more and more like him every day.

Six weeks later, Tracey moved back out into the guesthouse. True enough, she still lived at her parents' but she felt more independent. She sorely needed to feel independent, capable, not at all foolish. How could she expect herself to raise a daughter, to have her daughter depend on her, if she was always depending on others?

Garrett came more frequently then, if that was at all possible. Nearly every day, for hours on end when he wasn't working, he watched the baby while Tracey caught up on sleep. The situation was tense and awkward, but he didn't care. As long as his baby was there, he told her once, he was going to be there. And he was so good with her. From the start, even her aunts commented on how well he fared with little Nathalie. They never said he seemed more naturally inclined to child care than Tracey, but she knew for sure it was implied. Tracey actually didn't mind. In fact, she was ecstatic that Nathalie had a father who loved her and cared for her. Whether he loved and cared for her mother was another story altogether.

He still barely looked at her. He talked to her when he had to and with a civil tongue. Even after what they had shared in the hospital, his tone lacked warmth. He avoided her touch, even when she gave him something for the baby or took her from him. Lepers probably had it better than Tracey did.

One afternoon after Nathalie turned ten weeks old, Tracey sat in the kitchen while Angie washed her clothes in the small-sized washer and dryer unit. She didn't say why she needed to wash at Tracey's place and it didn't occur to Tracey to ask. That's how close they had grown. Both she and Moni had started to feel like sisters to her; Moni, the older, wiser guide and Angie, the younger, louder rebel. Only Angie had begun to spend more and more time with Tracey at the house, much like her brother.

She was grateful Angie came by so frequently. She liked the company, the help with the baby, and the distraction from the dark, dark cloud that never seemed to be too far away. Tracey did whatever she could to keep the cloud at bay. Depression was not going to interfere with her ability to be a good mother, and Angie was always good for a laugh or a lightened mood.

Tracey brought up Garrett's attitude toward her.

“He hates me,” she declared.

That Angie didn't say anything to contradict Tracey served as confirmation.

“I get that I did something horrible. I get it. But it's been months.”

“Yeah?” Angie continued to fold her clothes. Her response seemed distant, or maybe preoccupied.

“It's been months. Garrett did get to see his daughter born. He sees her all the time and gets to do full daddy-duty. I can understand him not forgiving me. But he's still so angry. It hasn't lessened at all.”

Not a word from the laundry quarter.

“I mean, did he change?”

“Might've done.” Angie placed a towel in her laundry basket and started on a pair of jeans.

Tracey chewed her bottom lip, then huffed out an exasperated sigh.

“Do
you
think he's changed?”

Angie put the jeans down and looked at her for the first time. Her expression was easy to read: irritation.

A cold apprehension washed over Tracey. She had never seen that look before.

“Actually, Tracey, I thank the good Lord he hasn't changed. If you don't like what you're seeing, sorry. I hate to be the one to break it to you and all, but that's Rett. Maybe you need to get to know my brother.”

That got Tracey's hackles up. “I do know your brother, Angie.”

“No, Tracey, you know the person he wants you to know, you know the facts he wants you to know. Staying in the house all the time may have made you close, but in the end it limited the things you could know about him. Think about it. You've barely seen him with his friends or family. You don't know the first thing about the way he acts with other people. And my brother is not the talkative type. He's not going to tell you everything that's on his mind. He's not going to—”

“But we did talk.”

“Has Garrett ever been arrested?”

“What?”

“Has Garrett ever been arrested?” Angie repeated the question that had taken Tracey by surprise.

“I don't think he has,” Tracey answered stupidly.

“Two times in juvenile court for the same thing.”

“For what?” she whispered, nearly choking.

Angie didn't say. “Tracey, you like to dance, right? Does Garrett? Have you ever seen him dance?”

“Now hold on a minute. Granted there are some things I don't know about him, but he and I used to talk all the time. He told me about what was going on with Kim and everything.”

“For you to be so damned jaded, you're the most naïve person I know.”

Tracey raised an eyebrow.

“Garrett is a wonderful man, but he is just that, a man. When you're trying to get someone into bed the first thing you do is make it clear that you're free and, if you're not free, that the relationship you're in is so bad it cancels any obligation on your part.”

“But he—”

“Is a man.”

Tracey was crushed.

“I'm not saying he wasn't or isn't in love with you. All I'm saying is that sometimes you are insensitive and unrealistic. You don't see outside yourself. No, my brother hasn't changed. He's done his level best to adjust, to stay who he is, but everyone has their breaking point. He can't just stay happy go lucky and call it all water under the bridge if it affects him every day.” Angie swallowed and her eyes went glassy. “Everyone has a breaking point. Everyone.”

“Is this about Rett?”

“You don't know anything,” she lashed out, as if she hadn't heard the question. “You haven't had to lift a finger. You haven't had to face a soul you didn't want to face. No one's said so much as an unkind word to you. You're spoiled. You're just spoiled, and because my brother doesn't dance to your tune like everybody else, you want to sit here and whine to me about it.”

“Angie! That's uncalled for.”

“Some of us have real problems, Tracey! Some of us don't live in a multi-million-dollar house with parents that can get us jobs and give us a house to stay in. I can't believe you were so scared to let anybody see you and my brother together. In the end you haven't suffered one single, solitary second for it! Who cares if somebody stares at you at the grocery store? Who cares about that? That's
nothing
, Tracey. Nothing.”

Wow
.

The dryer dinged to indicate it was finished. Angie stormed into the laundry closet to check it. Tracey didn't know what made her follow, but she did. Black mascara tracked down Angie's pretty face before she wiped it away.

“What is this about?”

“Nothin' for you to worry about. You don't have to worry about
anything!
”

Tracey shut the dryer before she could take anything else out and stood in front of it, forcing Angie to face her.

Tracey knew Angie lashed out when she was emotional, but this was hitting below the belt and Tracey was losing patience. “Angie, don't tell me what problems I
don't
have. Tell me what's wrong with
you
.”

“I can't stay there anymore,” she finally bit out.

“At your parents'?”

Angie nodded. “Daddy's fine and he'll take up for me, but it's hell there now. I never f-fit in in the first place, but now… She's so angry all the time, Tracey. And she still tries to be civil to Rett, but she hates me. She
hates
me, like I'm to blame for everything. All I wanted to do was to get her to see reason b-but…oh, God!”

Tracey grabbed her and held her. Tracey loved her like the sister she'd never had, and she couldn't stand to see her like that.

“I'm so sorry.” Tracey held her until her cell phone rang.

Angie looked at the screen, then answered it. “Yeah?… I know. I know. But she can't talk to me like that. She shouldn't talk to Dad like that. And she shouldn't talk to you like that.”

Garrett.

“I can't stay there. I just can't… Maybe it will pass, maybe it won't. I'm not going to be disrespectful to her, but I'm not going to listen to her poison, either. I had to leave… I don't know. I don't know, Rett! I don't care if you don't approve of my friends but—”

“You can stay here,” Tracey mouthed to her.

She looked up and squinted incredulously.

“You can stay here,” Tracey repeated.

“Are you sure?” she whispered back. “Your parents won't care?”

“My parents like you better than me,” Tracey insisted, only half kidding. “There's an empty bedroom in this house and three empty ones in the big house if you include mine. We've got plenty of room. You can stay here until the fall semester starts.”

“Hold on, Rett,” Angie said into the phone. “I'll pay rent.”

“We don't need your rent, Ang. Just stay here. I don't want to see you cry again.”

“Are you just saying this because I was a bitch to you?”

“Mainly.” Tracey tried to make her smile with her answer and was pleased when she did.

“You have to make sure it's okay with your parents,” Angie insisted. Tracey nodded, knowing full well that it would be. Really, they loved her, and Angie seemed to
like
being on her best behavior around them.

“You would have to get your own place first, wouldn't you?” she spoke into the phone again. “Rett… I told you, I can't stay there anymore. I can't do it. If Tracey's parents don't mind, then what's the problem?”

Tracey didn't hear his answer, but Angie got off the phone shortly after.

“He wants me to stay with him.”

“He's on a three-month
sublease
.”

“He thinks I need to be with family.”

Angie
felt
like family. “What do you want?”

“I could live with Rett.”

“But you don't want to.”

She shook her head. “I'm comfortable here.”

“What does your dad say?”

“He's not saying much of anything, but I know it's putting a strain on him. He loves little Nathalie and sees her at Rett's when he can. He loves me and Rett, too. He loves our mother, but she won't change. It's lose-lose no matter what for him.”

They went to talk to Tracey's parents, who had grown accustomed to Angie, who seemed to always be on her best behavior around them, potentially due to how much esteem she held for Carolyn. Tracey could tell Angie felt awkward talking to them about her parents, but she wanted them to have the whole story. She wanted to reassure them that she wasn't trying to take advantage. She didn't have to say much before her parents agreed to the temporary arrangement.

That evening, Angie, Mama, and Tracey discussed Tracey's plans to get her grandmother's house ready to sell. Afterward, Garrett went with Angie to get her things.

* * *

While they were gone, Tracey took inventory. She wrote a handwritten list.

• My parents accept that I had a child out of wedlock. They don't like it, but they accept it. Their friends might have something to say about it, but so far not to either Mama or Daddy's face, and they continue to be pleasant to me.
  
• Only a few members of my extended family look at me sideways, though that look speaks volumes: “I always knew she was going to end up with a white boy.”
  
• My closest friends, new and old, don't care one way or another.
  
• I have a beautiful daughter that I love more than anything.
  
• Nathalie's father not only contributes financially but participates in her care and rearing.
  
• I have a roof over my head.
  
• I have food in my belly. My baby has food in her belly.
  
• I am getting ready to start a great new job.
  
• I want for little.
  
• My daughter wants for nothing.
  

Even the strained circumstances surrounding Tracey's pregnancy were nothing in comparison to what some of the girls she used to work with at the center went through. In short, Angie was right.

Maybe it was time Tracey changed her attitude.

“You're on my bad list, Rett,” Clay told him. “You just up and disappeared for a couple of months.”

“I tell you what: if you come do this with me, I'll explain everything
and
won't kill you for messing around with my sister.”

Clay really looked like he was going to fade away. He got pale even under his perpetual tan. “I haven't done anything with Angie. Honest, Rett, nothing.”

“God, Clay,” Rett answered, immediately taking back what he'd said. “I know that. I was just making a joke. It took me a little while to notice, but I can tell you like her.”

“Just so you know, I would never try anything with your sister.”

“Angie can take care of herself. Besides, I can't think of anybody better for her.”

“You mean that?”

“Yeah, man.”

“And you're not just saying that 'cause you want me to go and vandalize somebody's front yard.”

“This is not an act of vandalism. This is a catharsis.”

“A what?”

“I'm just letting off some steam.”

“You don't let off steam by messing up somebody's front yard,” Clay remarked. Rett raised his eyebrow at his friend. Then he shook his head. “Unless they're my friend Rett, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Rett answered, throwing a second chainsaw into the back of his SUV.

“You going to tell me why?”

“Because it's not safe to have all those trees in the front yard blocking the view from the road. Anything could happen just on the front porch and no one would be the wiser until it was too late.” Rett did not add that this was the house that had made him succumb to stupid Tracey. It was the place that promised something they could never really have, a secret world untouched by anything beyond it.

“When are you going to tell me the whole thing?”

“The whole thing about what?”

“Well, Rett, I'm not stupid. I know somethin' big is going on with you. If my ears were serving me right this morning, there's something about a baby. And I know for damn sure that Kim isn't pregnant. In fact, Charles says she can't get pregnant.” The irony of that was not lost on Garrett. Kim was going to hate him more than she already did when she found out he was getting the child she had been trying to “give” him for more than a year. Yeah, she was going to be out for blood.

They pulled up in front of Tracey's grandmother's house forty-five minutes later.

“This neighborhood's really…really…”

“Really what?” Rett tensed up.

“Why are we doing this?”

“I told you.”

“Well, you haven't told me who lives here.”

“The mother of my child used to live here. This is still her house.”

“Here?”

“Yeah.”

“Tracey McAlpine lived here?”

Rett didn't look at his friend, proud he hadn't even flinched. He was surprised that Clay knew. In the end he should have been relieved; he no longer had to figure out how to break the news. “Yep. You should see the inside of the house. It's gorgeous. Anyway, let's get to it.”

“So you have a baby?” Awe peppered Clay's voice.

Rett couldn't help the grin. He had a bee-you-tiful baby. He reached into his wallet and pulled out three pictures. He paged through more on his cell.

“Would you look at that?” Clay breathed.

“Yeah.” Rett's chest puffed out proudly.

“Isn't she just a precious little thing?”

Rett beamed nodding. “Her name's Nathalie.”

Clay handed the pictures back and clasped Rett on the shoulder in affection.

“When it happens to you, man…” Rett mused. “I mean, I can't describe the way I feel when I look at her and hold her. I keep wanting to cry like a little bitch.”

Clay laughed. “Rett, you still haven't answered my question. Why are we doing this?”

“Because I've always hated these trees.”

“Yeah, but do you have permission to do this?”

“Look, are you goin' to help me or not?”

Clay shook his head. He then started to unload the truck.

Rett climbed the first tree to start trimming branches. Clay made his way up with him.

“How did you know?” Rett asked. “Did Angie tell you?”

“Naw, man.” Clay shook his head. “After that night at the apartment, I knew something was up. You made sure of that. Then, I don't know why, it never came up again, but you stopped seeing Kim and I just knew.”

Rett didn't say anything. He just nodded.

“Rett,” Clay continued.

“Yeah.”

“I think she was good for you.”

“What makes you say that?” Rett's chest got tight all of a sudden.

“Because I know you, man. You were happy. You were half the jackass you normally are. It was easy to see. And when y'all broke it off, it was clear as day what had happened. You had that ‘screw everybody' attitude you get when things don't go your way.”

“Really?”

“Hell yeah.”

Rett digested this for a moment, then questioned, “What's my attitude saying to you now?”

He asked this question because he really wanted to know. His brain and heart had been at war since that day in the mall. He'd thought that with the birth of his daughter, he'd be able to forget Tracey and focus on this new and important part of his life. He'd thought that with his new job and being a daddy, he wouldn't have time to stew over the mess that was his relationship with Nathalie's mother. He'd been wrong. His feelings for Tracey continued to be a puzzle for him.

“Why are you cutting down her trees?”

“Because she's planning on selling this place and I'm doing my part to help.”

“Without her knowing anything about it?”

“I've told her twelve times that it needed to be done.”

“So you're helpin' her, whether she likes it or not. And you're cutting down trees that you felt hid the house from the road.”

“Shut up and help me take this branch down.”

Hours later, they sat on the ground, dripping with sweat, wondering at the general mess they'd made of the yard and drinking beer.

“Maybe this was a two-day project,” Rett offered.

Clay laughed so hard he kicked at the trunk of the nearest tree. Then his eyes went wide and he scrambled to his feet.

“What are you doing?” Rett asked, too sore, hot, and fuzzy to follow… until he witnessed Clay snap a picture of the yard with his camera phone and start to type on the keypad.

“You jackass!” he yelled. He caught up with his friend just after he hit the send button. The message was sent directly to Angie.

Well, that was a way to get Tracey to call him.

Sure as he breathed, “The Devil Went Down to Georgia” sounded on his cell.

“Yeah?” he answered.

“What the hell are you doing at my grandmother's house?”

“Helping you sell it,” he answered, knowing full well it would piss her off.

“You have no right, Garrett. No right.”

“So?”

He held the phone away from his ears to protect his eardrums from loud and intense yelling on the other end.

Garrett and Clay finished clearing the yard on Sunday.

The house was sold in a week.

Tracey didn't expect the house to sell so fast. She figured she'd have at least three months, especially with the exorbitant price she put on it. But it was obvious it wasn't going to happen that way now. She'd gotten an offer, not from a nice family but from a convenience store chain. Rett got perverse pleasure out of the fact that the place where it had all begun was going to be torn down to make way for something new.