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Authors: Leanne Davis

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BOOK: The Wrong Sister
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The picture he painted was so grizzly and horrible, it was sickening. Vickie turned her head away as if he hit her.

Gretchen finally spoke after a long, pronounced silence. Even Tony looked shocked and unsure of what to say. “Is this true, Vickie?”

Vickie very slowly raised her gaze to Gretchen’s, her dark eyes filling with tears. Her shame was clear when she faced Gretchen. “Yes.”

“How long? How long has this been going on?” asked Gretchen. She seemed the only one to know what to do or say.

Vickie shrugged. “Years. Since high school.”

“But you never drink. I see you all the time and you’re not drunk. You don’t even drink at Sunday dinners. You are not an alcoholic.” Gayle persisted.

“I can’t drink at Sunday dinners. Once I start, I don’t stop. Only when I pass out, do I stop. I can go for a few days or weeks, and then… I do it again. I go on day-long drinking binges. It’s why I lose my jobs, my friends, my boyfriends, my husbands, my money. It’s why I lose everything and have nothing.”

“You have me,” Donny exclaimed as he took her hand. She smiled at him. It wasn’t her normal smile. Her normal smile was sensual, wide and flirty. She was a beautiful woman. More so than even Gretchen. She nearly took your breath away. It wasn’t exaggerated. You kind of just wanted to stare at the perfection of her lovely face, framed by her thick, long, blond hair. She was that appealing. She was so extraordinarily pretty, it really did affect how everyone treated her, including her parents and sisters. She truly was allowed to get away with more while doing less. Tracy began to realize that even she did that. She couldn’t really blame her parents. How many times had she taken Julia? Grumbling and complaining, she still took her. Even Gretchen spent years making excuses for Vickie and taking care of her.

“How did this happen?” Jay finally asked, his tone solemn.

Vickie glanced with true apprehension in her eyes. Tracy also knew she could not stand to see their father’s disappointment. He was the last person to be judgmental. He rarely got upset with them, even when he probably should have. He was easy going. Maybe a tad too much. Still, it was hard to disappointment him.

“I just never stopped drinking. I did it at first for fun. Partying. Being young. Everyone else stopped as they started their careers, or families, or both. I just did nothing. I started nothing. I stopped nothing. I try to stop. I tell myself ‘this is the last time’ and I believe I can. Until a week or two goes by, and I think, well, I’ve been so good, it must be okay. I didn’t know myself for a long time.”

Tracy’s heart blipped. “Did you drink while you were pregnant?”

“No. That’s why it took Donny longer than most husbands to discover my secret. I stopped and had to restrain myself. It was actually one of my greatest accomplishments, even though no one knew.”

Gretchen stood up, crossed the room, and pulled Vickie up and into her arms. They were almost eye to eye. Blond to blond. Gorgeous to gorgeous. Tracy used to wonder if she were somehow adopted, or maybe her mother cheated somewhere along the way. But no. They both simply looked just like Dad; and she looked just like Mom. Freaky thing, genetics. Kind of depressing being the middle child who messed up the perfect similarity to her siblings. Family pictures had Gretchen standing, then down to her, and then right back up to Vickie.

Tony shuffled around. “I’m sorry. I had no idea this is where you were going.”

“No one did,” Donny said, his tone grim. She glanced at him. He caught her stare, holding it as his mouth tightened before he finally dipped his head as if to say, “Yeah, this is for real.”

She was stunned. She was appalled. She… should have cared a whole lot more. Her heart was so full of her own mess, and her own grief, she simply didn’t have anything left in her. She stared at Vickie and the only thing she could think of was that
she did this to herself.
Vickie had, once more, caused it herself, while Tracy didn’t do anything. She was truly a victim. They all came to Tracy’s house to support her; but as usual, they ended up being there more for Vickie. Vickie’s news was more shocking and important to them. Vickie needed more support and care and love.

And Tracy had none left to give. She quietly got up and slipped out of the room as the conversation continued.

Chapter Seven

 

TRACY WALKED THROUGH HER kitchen and onto the back deck. It overlooked the small, pristine lake. She crossed over the deck to a path leading to an idyllic bench that offered a great view of the beach. She sat down. The dark was nice. No peering eyes. She stared at the moonlight on the lake, and shivered at the cool, autumn air. However, quite clearly in her mind, she could picture Micah sitting next to her. Sometimes, they came out there to discuss things they didn’t want to talk about in front of the girls. Work. Finances. Problems with clients. Problems with family. Problems with the girls. Problems between them.

Micah was the one person who shared everything in her life. She stared at the empty spot next to her. There was no one left now in the entire world who would put her needs and desires first. Not even now. Not on this day. Sometimes, she needed her family too; but as always, somehow, her concerns always got eclipsed by the bright sun that was Vickie. Fresh tears stung and felt hot again. She shook her head. Not now. She was tired of crying. She was already exhausted with her own grief.

“I’m sorry.”

She jumped inches off the bench at hearing the voice, which came from nowhere. She glanced over her shoulder and found, much to her surprise, Donny. He stood there, hands in his pockets, his dress shirt long ago hanging out, untucked. His hair was ruffled like he’d been running his hands through it.

She turned and glared harder at the pretty, moonlit lake. “For what?”

“For this. Tonight. I know you needed them. If I could have waited, I would have. Vickie always has a problem, and it’s always taken as if it’s more important than yours. I know. And I’m sorry. If it wasn’t for Julia, I wouldn’t have pressed this now, of all times. The worst possible time.”

“I want to care. And I will. Just not tonight. I don’t care about anything tonight.”

He crossed around the bench and sat next to her. Where Micah should have been. He should have been there to remind her how lucky she was not to be Vickie, and all needy and sad. And tell her that being pretty couldn’t excuse acting like a loser. Micah always defended Tracy and made her the most important thing to him, even though she never was to anyone else. And Micah’s faith in her always managed to help her deal with her family, and the strange dynamics without it becoming a big deal. Now, however, it felt like a really big deal to her.

Donny lifted his ankle and rested it on his opposite knee. “She always dominates everything, doesn’t she?”

“Yes. She does. But you’re her husband. So why are you out here with me? Go be supportive and wonderful to her.”

His gaze strayed from her to the lake, and he was silent for a long moment. The water softly lapped a hundred feet away from them. “She takes a lot out of me. I guess I wanted just a moment and some space.”

She glanced at his profile. “What was that in there? You love her. You said so. You and her against the world. I saw it. Really, I did. You love her. Perhaps, in the beginning, it seemed like a joke to me, but I see now that it’s not. Some other day, I’ll apologize for not noticing it sooner. But tonight? I just need to wallow in my own misery.”

He nodded. “I know. That’s why I found you. I guess I kind of want to wallow in my own too.”

“You seemed resolute in there. Like you were okay and ready to face this with her.”

He drew in a breath. “I’m not. I’m tired. Of her. Of her drama and the never ending problems. Every day is a chaotic, unknown mess with her. I never come home to the same thing. One day, she’ll cook dinner, clean the house and tend to Julia. Then, on another, I come home to find my daughter rolling around in her own feces with a diaper that hasn’t been changed in eight hours. One day, she’s my loving wife, all fun and flirty and sweet; the next, she’s yelling at me for this or that. I don’t mean kind of displeased, but off her damn rocker and screaming at me. She’s as volatile as she is beautiful. She is just high maintenance. In all ways. Sometimes, I just want… quiet. The same. Sometimes all I want is for Vickie to have one evening where she acts as rational and calm and
normal
as you do every day.”

“That’s a pretty extreme picture you paint. I didn’t know it was that bad.”

“It is.”

Tracy felt a teeny, tiny amount of melting in her heart for Donny and Julia. “Does she really do that to Julia?”

“Yes. I’ve found her more than a few times like that. It’s why I quit letting Julia stay alone with her. I made up the job to cover for it. Vickie was psychotically adamant you guys could not know the truth of all this.”

“When? When did you figure it out?”

“My first clue was when I found Julia, at three weeks old, screaming on the bed, cold, hungry and wet from an unchanged diaper. Her mother was passed out, only three feet away from her on the bed. I couldn’t even wake her up. But the last straw was when I couldn’t wake her and had to take her to the ER to get her stomach pumped. It was about six months after Julia was born.”

“I guess I left before her prognosis. What now?”

“Rehab. Soon. That is the only reason I did this to you tonight. Again, I’m sorry, Tracy.”

Tracy closed her eyes and leaned her head back on the bench. “And you need me to watch Julia?”

“Yes. My parents don’t know yet. Tony and I decided to let them finish their vacation before we got into all this. They’ll be back in a couple of months. Then, my mom will take over. Your mother will…”

“But you did nothing to endear yourself to them just now.”

“No. But to be honest, I just like how you take care of her. And I think she’ll need the extra care that only you can provide.”

She kept her eyes shut. The air felt cool on her burning eyes. “I don’t want to, Donny.” Her voice was exhausted, and sounded as heavy as her soul felt.

“I know. But I’m begging you. She needs proper mothering. Vickie doesn’t… I don’t know how to explain it. But she just doesn’t
mother
her. Not like you do with your girls. When she’s sober, she can take care of her, and she does talk to her, and hugs her. But she lacks… something. I can’t put my finger on it. The way you take care of the girls is just… different. Anyone knows you’d take a bullet for any one of them. Your devotion, care and attention are that solid. I just, I need some of that for Julia right now.”

“Last week, those would have been the nicest words anyone has said to me in years. Today, I just don’t care. I don’t think I can be that way right now. You’re asking too much. I just can’t.”

Without a word, he finally leaned over, put his arm around her and pulled her next to him. She sat up straight, shocked by his familiar touch. It was platonic, no different from her father wrapping his arm around her, but Donny and she had never touched. They never hugged hello at Christmas, or kissed cheeks goodbye after a birthday party. They didn’t even shake hands. She vaguely remembered he held her after he read Micah’s letter, but not clearly enough to recall the details. That was only yesterday, but felt like a century ago.

“I’m an ass. I had no right to do this to you now. I did it anyway, even knowing how it would affect you. I’m sorry he left you. I’m sorry Vickie stole the spotlight from you. I’m sorry I took that from you.”

She thought she didn’t have anything left in her, but she buried her head in the crook of his arm and started to cry again. It wasn’t Donny per se, that brought her comfort, it was just a warm, willing body to hold her. She wanted Micah right then. To hold her. And soothe her. And comfort her. Instead, she cried into her brother-in-law’s dress shirt and wished he’d disappear from her life at the same time.

****

He was an asshole. There was no other word in the English language to describe the selfish action he took today. He did that to Tracy because he wanted to use her. He could use other people to help him with Julia, but he knew in his gut, his heart, and right down to his toes, Julia needed Tracy. Even if Vickie didn’t go to rehab, right now, Julia needed Tracy’s version of mothering to bond and love and feel loved. He provided as much as he could, but she needed more. What he lacked, Tracy made up for. So he was using her. Exploiting her grief and her sense of duty. He was bombarding Tracy when she least deserved it. He felt like he was kicking an already beaten, starved puppy by bullying Tracy into what he wanted. Of course, he knew he’d succeed. She couldn’t turn her back on Julia.

She wasn’t wired that way.

Unlike her sister.

Tracy’s tears were hot on his skin where she planted her face against his neck. They had long ago soaked through the thin material of his dress shirt. He could feel her shuddering as she breathed hard and sniffled when her grief again overwhelmed her. All for another man, a man who didn’t deserve it.

Imagine receiving that kind of devotion from a woman and then leaving her.

He couldn’t explain when he first realized the virtues of the woman that Micah married. It wasn’t flashy or obvious, but a gradual comprehension that Tracy was unlike any woman he knew.

It began last summer. There was one huge family vacation that the Moores all took together. They spent two weeks up in the Pacific Northwest on Whidbey Island in Puget Sound. The Moores had been renting the same house up there since Vickie and Tracy were young girls. Now, everyone went. Vickie made it every year, surprisingly. Consequently, he spent a lot of time with Tracy and Micah last year, and was surprised at what he noticed. The humor and fire he discovered in Tracy was a shock. At first, she seemed so nice. A middle-of-the-road, demure woman, with a kind demeanor. But she was much more than that. She was sharp, observant, sarcastic and could grasp the nuance of any situation, along with any humor. There was little she missed, and much she didn’t say. She only presented her full opinions and personality if Micah or Gretchen were present. He mentioned it offhand to Tony once, and Tony responded by looking at him funny and telling him she was nothing like she appeared. Gretchen was the nice one. Tracy wasn’t nearly as sweet as she came off. She was just not what he thought.

And it was hard for Donny to ignore a woman when she’s not what he was expecting.

Ironically, his own wife wasn’t what he expected either. More so than Tracy even. And that turned out to be a really bad thing. But with Tracy, it only got better.

Still, he knew he’d have to keep persuading Tracy until she agreed to help out with Julia. And that sat heavily on his heart. It really didn’t make him feel good to take advantage of her.

After she seemed to finally cry herself out, at least, for this round, she lifted her head off his shoulder and sniffed, pushing her palms into her eyes. “I can’t keep crying like this. My eyeballs are going to pop out. It’s not like he died.”

“It might be worse.”

She nodded. “Yeah, it might be. But he chose it. Anyway, I need to stop this, and get the girls to bed.”

She slowly rose to her feet. Showered now, her hair fell down to the middle of her back in a deep, burnished red color that sunlight bounced off and light shone through. She was small in height and curvy with her hips and breasts. Tracy was appealing to look at and be around once you got over Vickie’s shining beauty.

Donny stood up next to her and turned so he was looking down at her. He was a good eight inches taller and her neck stretched as she met his gaze. He was too close to her. He could almost feel her chest pounding against his as she breathed. He fisted his hands at his sides to keep from pulling her closer to him. She seemed so lost. So sad. So unhappy. Her gray eyes, were so unusual in their lack of distinct color, despite being swollen and red.

Why the sudden desire to comfort Tracy? He never felt like that before. But there was never an occasion like this. Lost and broken, she seemed so unsure of what to do with herself. She was usually so busy doing things that she never slowed down. Never before was there a chance for her to have a moment such as this. She was the type that hurried everywhere she went and raced to do every single thing on her list. She could multi-task like no one Donny ever knew. She could host elaborate dinners, help the girls with homework, and talk to whoever approached her about any subject. She didn’t pause much in her life. She had a surplus of energy about her that prodded her to get things done and now.

Micah had completely ruined her. She seemed like a child lost at the airport, unsure of where to go, whom to talk to, and what to do with herself. Suddenly, Donny felt a strong urge to protect her. He needed to comfort her and hold her. He shook his head, trying to banish the odd, almost inappropriate thoughts.

“I think we’ll go home.”

She nodded absently. “Yeah. Gretchen and Tony are here now. Plus, Olivia will help the girls.”

“Always the better sister, isn’t she?”

“Do you really want me to answer that?”

He shrugged. “It used to bug the shit out of me how you two talked about Vickie, like she was such a huge problem you two had to suffer through. I was often puzzled at why she allowed you both to kind of gang up on her, and make fun of her almost; and she still revered you two. She still wanted to be around you both, no matter what. I didn’t get it. I kept telling her she shouldn’t let you do that to her.”

Tracy lifted her face to his. “I know. I could tell when you were pissed at us. You’d scowl almost as hard as Tony used to. Now do you kind of understand it?”

BOOK: The Wrong Sister
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