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Authors: Leanne Davis

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BOOK: The Wrong Sister
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As her girls worsened, Tracy’s own mood plummeted. She resented Julia’s presence in a way she could not get under control. She didn’t have the mental stamina for her. But every day, Donny came. And every day, the door shut after the girls left for school, and she was alone with Julia, a gurgling, smiling, cooing, shrieking, ready to play and be loved, bundle of happy energy. The few errands she ran were strictly for food and necessities.

Thanks to her felon husband stealing money and paying off all of her bills, he turned out to be right: she was better off financially than if he’d simply gone to jail. No doubt, he’d be found guilty and all the money he stole would have been frozen and repaid. Strangely, he set her up before walking away from her forever.

Julia began to walk one afternoon when it was just the two of them. She took her first wobbly step away from the coffee table, and then another, and another before falling on her tush. Tracy rushed to grab her phone and record it for Donny, finally emerging from her apathy long enough to record her niece’s first steps. That meant Julia could really get around now. She was a lot of work and needed constant surveillance. There were times when all Tracy wanted to do after another loud screaming match with Ally, or a silent stand-off with Kylie, just to get them to school, was fall on her bed and sleep all day long. She did not want to spend seven hours dealing with Julia. The diaper changes, meals, playtimes, and supervision were fully lacking in enthusiasm.

Donny was often late. Tracy gathered that his business must’ve taken a hit, like many others of late. He was trying to cover all his bills and loans, but had nothing left of his own to rely on if he failed. He was often distracted, and usually had deep circles under his eyes. He was as exhausted as Tracy. Hers was mental exhaustion; and his was physical stress from working way too much. She felt guilty she did not have a financial burden. She should have been glad, but sometimes, she wished she had such a responsibility. At least, it provided motivation, a reason to freaking do something. It might have made her want to get out of bed, instead of longing and dreaming of staying there.

One night, Donny was late. He walked in without knocking to find Ally and her having another shouting match about Ally’s poor grades. He stopped dead at the kitchen counter and his head swiveled between them. Ally had the good grace to snap her mouth shut and allow silence to reign.

“What is going on?” he finally asked, addressing Tracy.

“Her failing grades. Her missing assignments. Her attitude. Now, she’s skipping school. Take your pick. I’m sure there’s more I don’t know about,” Tracy said recklessly. She was almost beyond caring about Ally’s hurt feelings.

Donny turned to Ally. “Is all that true?”

Ally shrugged, averting her gaze. She stiffened her back and flung her hair over her shoulder. “Yeah. Most of it. So what? Mom is even too stupid to help me with my homework. If she can’t do it, then obviously, I don’t need it.”

Donny stepped around the counter, and right into Ally’s space. He glared down at her. “Alissa McKinely! Do not call your mother stupid, or any other name. You think you don’t have to do all this stuff? Why? Because your father left? You think it gives you free rein to do whatever you want, however you want? Well, it doesn’t. Nothing does. I’m sorry he left you, Ally. I really am. Everyone around you is sorry for you. Including your own mother. She has gotten you counseling and help at school, and she’s always here for you. I know that, and I don’t even live here. She was left too, young lady. She’s in as much pain as you. So quit attacking and blaming her.”

“Donny, stop.” Tracy stood up and stepped closer. “She needs a place to express herself.”

“She can do all the expressing she wants. But not by blaming you. Not like that. She knows the difference of talking about her feelings and attacking you, or calling you stupid. Your dad was stupid, Ally. He’s the goddamned idiot that left all he has here. Not your mother. She’s here every day for you. You know that. So stop punishing her for what you both have to endure.”

Tears started to fall down Ally’s face. “You don’t understand!”

Tracy stepped closer and wrapped her in her arms. She glared at Donny. Where did he get off? “Stop it. You can’t begin to imagine what this is like for a young girl.”

“You get all the understanding anyone could need from your mother. The same mother you use and abuse. No more, young lady. Calling your mother names at any age, for any reason, is not okay. Tracy just temporarily forgot that in all her guilt.”

Her mouth dropped open, but Donny ignored her and continued. “So, first off, you start doing all your homework and get your grades back up. Until you do, you don’t play fast pitch. And if I ever hear you speak to your mother that way again, I swear to God, you don’t want to know what I’ll do. Losing a few privileges will be the least of it. Do you get me?”

Ally pushed back from Tracy and raised her head. “You’re not my father. You’re not my parent! You can’t tell me what to do. You can’t take away my fast pitch. Tell him, Mom! Tell him he can’t do that!”

Tracy, meanwhile, stepped back and listened to Ally screaming her protest. Donny raised one eyebrow as he met her gaze as if waiting to see whose side she’d take. She swallowed and stared down at her hands, then back up at him.

“He can do that. We are going to do that. He’s right. You can’t call me names because you’re in pain. There are other ways to deal with it, and that isn’t it. If I could take your pain away, I would. I hope you know that. But I cannot allow you to channel it in negative and unhealthy ways. So starting today, you concentrate on your homework. You have two weeks to get caught up and at least start pulling up your grades. If you don’t, in two weeks time, you’ll stop playing fast pitch.”

“Oh my GOD! You can’t do that. I’m first base! The team relies on me. You can’t simply make me stop. I won’t do it.”

Tracy stepped closer this time and pushed her finger into Ally’s chest. “I can and I will. I pay for it, Ally. Not you. You think you can afford all the fees for uniforms and travel costs? Yeah, right. I totally can and will do that. It’s on you now. So I suggest you go upstairs and hit the books.”

Donny nodded his head at her. His expression was still stern, but his mouth twitched from a grim line of disapproval toward Ally, to a slight smile at Tracy, as if to say, “good job.” “Actually, if you’ll calm down, I could probably help you with the math you were having trouble with. I took a lot of it in college. But only if you apologize first to your mother.”

Ally’s tears dried while she listened to Tracy. Her chest rose and fell in short, fast breaths. She was angry when she was crying, but she was pissed off to a whole new level now. Tracy waited for the next explosion. Ally had a staring contest with both of them.

“Which is it, Ally? Fast pitch and homework? Or more trouble and being miserable with a whole lot more time spent here?”

She turned around with a dramatic flip of her hair and stomped her feet. “Fine. I’ll get my grades up. I can’t believe you would do this to me after what Dad did.”

“And?” Donny persisted, both eyebrows raised.

Ally stopped dead, turned back around, and rolled her eyes. “Fine. I apologize, Mom. I shouldn’t have called you stupid.”

“Yes, and it should be pointed out that you couldn’t do the math in question either, and you even had a lesson in school today about it, right?”

Ally heaved a deep sigh, and kind of smiled. “You got me there, Uncle Donny.”

Donny grinned, but behind her back, he made a face at her. Tracy finally found a reason to smile back, and she mouthed to him, “Thank you.”

He mouthed back, “Thank you, too.”

Tracy was glad when she realized they were literally covering each other’s backs with all the problems of parenting. She provided the TLC a young toddler needs from a mother to Julia, and Donny provided the stern, strict, discipline despite Ally’s emotions, that were traditionally the father’s role to a young, blossoming, but willful girl. At least, that was how she and Micah usually handled things. Now that it was all on her, she decided she wasn’t very good at it.

Donny and Ally sat at the kitchen table for over two hours. He reviewed several lessons with her and explained the work with irrational integers, which Ally was currently learning. It was stuff Tracy vaguely remembered, but not well enough to explain to Ally. So she simply played longer with Julia in the living room until the little girl fell asleep on the couch.

Donny came in finally and lowered his big body gently to sit next to Julia. He touched her leg. A soft smile curled his lips. Tracy looked away. Sometimes seeing such fatherly pride and the protective way Donny watched and cared for Julia hurt her because that was what Micah was supposed to give her children.

“How long has she been like this?”

“Since he left.”

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“Say what? My teenager abuses me? I think that’s pretty typical isn’t it? I don’t know, I’ve never had one before.”

“She is only eleven. Not a teenager quite yet. And I don’t care how others are, yours are forbidden to call you names.”

“Because you threatened her. Not me. She’ll sense I’m not that forceful. I still can’t command her respect on my own. And I still can’t do the math. So maybe I am stupid like she says.”

Donny leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “You’ll learn. That’s one thing my dad always taught us: no disrespecting our mother. He was quiet and unassuming most of the time, until we did anything disrespectful to my mom, then watch out. Yeah, well, all that motherly, emotional support and talking you do? Tell me, when Julia is old enough, how the hell am I going to provide that? I listened to you when you told them about Micah leaving, and I was in awe. Really. I had no idea how to go about explaining that to your kids. You were magnificent.”

She snorted and lay back flat on the floor. She was in the process of cleaning up Julia’s toys. “I don’t remember the last time I was magnificent. But thank you, for tonight.”

“Thank you for everyday.” She didn’t glance up, but could almost feel his eyes on her. Silence crept into the room.

“Donny?”

“Yeah?”

“I suck at this.”

“Being a single parent? So do I. Look, if you can provide Julia a little extra love and care like you have been, I can help Ally with her homework. And Kylie too.”

She raised her head up off the floor and swung her legs underneath to sit up. “Do you mean that? You’d do that? After a full day of working?”

“A full day of working I can only do because of you. Of course.”

“Thank you. That would be very much appreciated.”

“Ditto that.”

Chapter Nine

 

“MAMA!”

“No, honey. Auntie. Aunt Tracy. I’m not your mommy.” Tracy sighed as Julia merely grinned wider and stuffed the entire cookie she held into her wet, drooling mouth. Julia kept calling her “Mama.” That started a few days ago. Tracy didn’t think too much about it at first. Julia made lots of unrecognizable sounds, and a few words.

She always tried to keep the toddler somewhat at arm’s length so as not to let her get too attached. But after spending hours and days with Tracy, how could the poor little thing not become attached to her? But Tracy didn’t want the baby to be so confused as to who her real mother was. Tragically, however, she was.

Vickie was on day thirty in rehab. The treatment lasted a full ninety days. No matter how many times Tracy corrected Julia’s “Mamas,” Julia kept calling her that.

When Donny came in that evening, he immediately called Ally downstairs and asked for her homework. As they finished and she shuffled off to her room, Donny turned to Tracy. “Do you mind watching Julia tomorrow?”

“Why? It’s Saturday.”

“Visitation day. I want to see Vickie.”

“Oh? Yeah then.”

“Is it so bad?”

“What?”

“Watching Julia?”

Tracy whipped her head around from scraping the leftovers off the dishes, which she recently started doing. “What? Why would you ask that?”

“You seem so put out by her. I know it isn’t what you want right now, but is it Julia?”

She set the dish down and looked at Donny, who leaned against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest. He had now become a familiar sight in her kitchen.“It’s not Julia. I love her. I really do. She and Olivia are my nieces and I intend to always be part of their lives. I want to be the best aunt ever. But you have to understand, I’ve raised my babies already, Donny. I don’t want to start over. I don’t want to do it again. I liked having more freedom. Not having to take ten minutes to get out the door and strap a kid in the car seat. I liked seeing the end of the baby phase.”

“You’re so good at it though.”

She shook her head. “You over-inflate my skills. I think Vickie’s given you a skewed outlook. I’m not all that original.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Yeah, well when Vickie comes home, you have to find a way to make it work. Vickie has to learn to take care of Julia. She keeps calling me ‘Mommy’ or ‘Mama.’ I can’t get her to stop.”

Donny’s mild expression vanished. “Really?”

“Well, what did you expect? While you two are getting your shit together, she’s spending ridiculous amounts of time with me and my kids. She hears my kids calling me Mom and doesn’t know the difference.”

“It feels like this will never get worked out. Do you know what I mean?”

She leaned on the counter, her shoulders stooping as she looked down at her half done dishes. She knew exactly. “I know. It has to all get easier, doesn’t it?”

“I hope so.”

“Besides, your relationship stands a real chance of getting worked out.”

“I really can’t believe this happened to both of us.”

She didn’t answer. Rain beat against the window and she lifted her head to stare outside.
Was he for real?
He dared to compare his paltry, two-year relationship to her dozen-year marriage and the pain it was causing her? “No offense, but no one was totally shocked when something happened with you two. You did marry Vickie, after all.”

“Well, I didn’t expect to be visiting her at rehab. And I didn’t expect I’d have to deal with an addiction.”

“You didn’t blink long enough to learn anything about her to know better or not. You were thirty-two years old, not twenty. How could you not have known better?”

He didn’t answer at first. She slowly turned and saw his jaw was locked. He met her gaze for a prolonged moment, and one eyebrow lifted up. “Wow. Not holding back tonight. Why don’t you tell me what you really feel?”

“You think what we’re going through is the same thing? It’s not. Not even close. You know where your spouse is. Yours is coming back. Yours even has a chance of fixing things and making it right. Mine is gone. Lost. I don’t know if he’s dead or alive. It’s not the same thing at all.”

“No. I guess I meant, we’re both disillusioned about our marriages.”

“You can’t compare Vickie and you to Micah and me. You were together like, five minutes. You don’t know if you even love her. It’s just not the same thing.”

“Okay. Not exactly. But it’s not like either of us are living in marital happiness ever after, now are we?”

Agitated, she started to pass by him. He stopped her with his hand on her arm. “I’m trying here, Tracy. I’m trying to keep all this going. Maybe I don’t have the same history as you, but I had the same hopes and expectations of a working, enduring, long marriage. I’m disillusioned too.”

“It’s not the same thing. Comparing my marriage to yours is like saying a teenager is the same as a toddler.”

“Meaning, yours is better? Or more tragic? What?”

“No, just that our love was the real thing. We had an entire life together that went on for over a decade. A decade, Donny. You have an infatuation gone wrong. You have the oldest story in the book: girl gets knocked up so you marry her too soon. It’s just not all that unpredictable.”

He blinked several times, locking his jaw again. “So you’re allowed to grieve and I’m not? Because you’ve decided I don’t love my wife as much as you loved your husband?”

She nearly stomped her foot in frustration. “No. It’s just I get tired of being compared to you and Vickie. This is not the same. Being left after a dozen years isn’t like having someone walk out on you after two years. Being in love with the wrong woman isn’t the same as losing the love of your life!” She jerked her arm away from him. “I get tired of everyone lumping us together, ‘Oh, poor Donny; Vickie, you know, is in rehab, and he has that little baby to raise and all.’ Well maybe it is poor you, but it wasn’t totally random; and you can blame some of it on your own bad judgment. And I’m the one raising that poor, little baby.” She passed by him and started down the hallway, but he was immediately behind her. She could feel him closing in on her.

He grabbed her arm and spun her towards him. “You think you’re somehow better than me? Why? Because my spouse didn’t screw over about a dozen people before leaving all of them in the lurch? Because my spouse has a problem she can’t help? Or because yours is just a cowardly, evil bastard who left you and your kids as easily as some people abandon their pets?”

She recoiled as if he just lifted a hand to slap her face. “What? Vickie is somehow better than Micah? Screw off, Donny. I’m tired of cleaning up her messes. I have my own stuff to deal with; and I can’t even do that, can I? There is always Vickie. And you. And your child.”

“What did I miss here? Don’t I help you? Don’t I help Ally with her math homework, when you can’t do it? Didn’t I fix a half dozen things around here that you couldn’t fix? I might not be Mr. Mom, but I do a hell of a lot around here, trying to make up for it. What the hell is your problem?”

“You! You’re my problem. You try to make your problems mine. I told you from the start I didn’t want to be involved. But anything I say falls on deaf ears. That’s how it always is with you.”

He leaned his face towards hers. His coloring grew more vivid as his breathing escalated. She fisted her hands and refused to cower. He pushed her nearly into the wall, essentially blocking her in and pushed his face right into hers. “Julia’s a baby. What do you want me to do?”

She shook her head furiously. Tears quickly filled her eyes and started to fall. He swore under his breath. “The tears again? How much can you cry, Tracy? He left you. He
fucking left you.
And you stand here, criticizing my spouse? Have you looked at yours? Why do you still cry for him? How can you cry for a man who left his own kids and you?”

She pushed her hands through her hair, her face falling in distress. “I don’t
know,
okay?! I don’t know what I should do. I don’t know anything. I don’t know why I cry. I don’t know why I don’t want to watch your baby. Or don’t want to get out of bed in the morning. I don’t know why he didn’t love me enough to stay and serve his term in prison. Or even why he did what he did in the first place. I just don’t know. But mostly, I don’t know how to live without him!”

Donny didn’t answer her shrill reply. They stared at each other, their faces barely a half a foot apart. They both were breathing hard as if they’d just come in from a long run. Her hands were flat on the wall, and her body was pushed back against it. She started to cry harder. The only sounds between them were her occasional sniffs and sobs. He slowly leaned over and put his hands on her waist to draw her closer. She responded by throwing her arms around his neck and clinging to him. His body was warm and close as it pressed against hers. But most of all, he was there. Now. With her. When no one else was there. She cried harder. Longer. She clung to him as he held her. His mouth brushed close to her ear in soft, shushing sounds. He lowered his hands down her back, rubbing, comforting, and trying to calm her down.

She shook her head on his chest until her tears subsided slightly, and inhaled a long gulp of air. “I don’t know why it hurts so much still.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have attacked you. I’m just… so damn angry. You’re sad. I’m angry. Daily, I feel like I could hit something. I’m sorry, but you are just an easy target.”

She laughed a bitter, unhappy sound. “Yeah. Well, you’re an easy target for me too. I guess we’re even. I’m sorry I said those things.”

His shoulders shrugged under her hands. He was wearing a sweater over a shirt and she could feel the heat of him through it. It felt… good. His shoulders were wide and his muscles felt so much more masculine and reassuring than being held by her mother or a sister. She tried to mentally banish the thought. Donny could not feel good. He felt like… well, like hugging a brother. A brother whom she was not related to. But still,
nothing
more than a brother.

A big, warm, caring, and sometimes downright frustrating to argue with, brother. “We can argue pretty good. Remember when all we used to do with each other was act casually polite?”

He laughed softly as his hands dropped down to her waist. She stepped back, feeling suddenly strange for succumbing to his embrace. He smiled nervously and pulled his hands completely away from her. “Yeah, I remember those days.”

“It feels like years, not months.”

“I have to sell my house. That’s why I’m so angry.”

She shut her eyes. When she opened them, she regained her composure and had her emotions back under control. “I’m so sorry. Do you really have to?”

He nodded. “I can’t keep my business afloat. I need to pay off the loan. Selling the house will do it. I need the business more than the house right now. I can always rent a house. Besides, I owe your parents money for the rehab and…”

“And Vickie had already spent everything, which resulted in taking out a second mortgage on your home, before my husband completely knocked down the teetering house of cards, which was all you had left.”

“Yeah. Pretty much.”

She shook her head and stepped away from him. “We are so pathetic. We have to scream at each other in order to feel better, huh? I think it’s a draw. What do you think?”

He finally lifted the side of his mouth in a grin. “I think you’re right. We’re Loser One and Loser Two.”

She shook her head. “No, we’re not. Our spouses are. Not us. What are we going to do?”

He shook his head. “Keep getting up, and doing what we’ve been doing. Can you give me another two weeks for Julia? My mom will be home then and she can take over.”

“Yes. I’m sorry. I love her. I just feel like I’m all over the place. When she calls me ‘Mom,’ it sends me off the deep end. I don’t want her to think I’m her mother. Vickie is. I don’t want her to forget that.”

He stared at her and she dropped her gaze. It suddenly felt different, almost intense. “No, I don’t want that either.”

She watched him gathering Julia from upstairs along with all her things.
His house
. He lost the one asset he had before Vickie and it was because of Micah. She and Donny both lost so much. Was it any wonder they spent half the time rooting for each other, like a team cheerleader, and the other half clawing at each other’s throat? They were both so miserable, neither could completely cheer the other one up.

“What you’ve done for Vickie? That’s the right thing.”

He turned with Julia in his arms and smiled strangely. “I wish it felt like the right thing,” he softly replied before he left.

****

Donny stared hard at his house as he drove up. Julia was asleep in the back seat. He hated to move her and possibly wake her up. She’d, no doubt, be fussy. His heart dipped as he gazed at the front of the house. Soon, there would be a for sale sign on the front lawn. He leaned his head on the steering wheel. What did it matter if he sat there in his driveway all night? There was no one waiting for him; and Julia was clean, fed, asleep and warm. Which was mostly due to Tracy’s excellent care of her.

BOOK: The Wrong Sister
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