Chapter Twenty-Two
Libby
The first few days that Tucker was gone, it hadn’t mattered. He hadn’t been such a part of our lives that I missed him so terribly, right away. There was the dull ache of his absence, but I treated it like any other time we’d gone a while without speaking, and carried on with life. My bigger fear was going back to work and finding out that Maggie Dunham didn’t have a sense of humor, or a soul, as I had long suspected. By Wednesday, I felt safe from the after-effects of my joke gone awry, both in a physical sense and safe from being fired by Maggie for interrupting her grandstanding.
It wasn’t until Olivia and I were on our way home, and she wanted to stop for a mommy-daughter lunch at a fancy restaurant (which was any sit-down eatery with actual servers), that I realized my life was exactly as it had been before I went to Tucker about the will. No Tucker, no Cynthia or Kristy or court, or waiting for a hearing date. We’d gone through all the stress and sacrifice, and in the end, absolutely nothing about my life had changed, except that the longer Tucker was gone, the bigger the hole in my chest grew.
I watched my sweet little girl order from the children’s menu, speaking earnestly to the college kid who was waiting on us. He crouched by her seat so they were eye to eye, and made notes as she spoke, even though she wasn’t making much sense.
“Olivia, please. Just order something they actually have on the menu, baby,” I gently chided her. Her jade eyes sparkled with tears and her little mouth quivered as she tried to hold back her embarrassment, and I mentally shook myself for being an idiot and a rotten mother. I glanced up at the server, who winked at me and made a show of concentrating hard.
“Miss Olivia, I know we don’t have the chicken with pineapple on it here, but do you trust me to make you something really, really special?” Olivia frowned, but nodded slowly.
“Okay. I will be right back with drinks to start you with. If I guess what your favorite drink is, will you draw me a picture?” Her frown disappeared under the thrill of a challenge, and she grinned and nodded more enthusiastically. He turned to me and smiled. “If I were a guessing man, I’d say you need full caffeine, full sugar today.” I laughed and agreed, and he set off towards the back to turn in our orders.
“Sorry I snapped at you, O. I’m frustrated with life, and I had no excuse for taking it out on you.”
“That’s okay, Mom. I’m fust-er-ated too. I miss Uncle Tuck. He was going to bring his puppy to our house again, and he said I could hold her leash.” I reached across the table and held her soft, sticky little hand in mine.
“He will be back soon,” I promised. “He didn’t want to go in the first place, and I just know he misses you too.”
“He’s not gone like Daddy’s gone… right, Mom?” Her little voice was tinged with worry, and I shook my head.
“No, baby. He’s not gone like Daddy had to go. He’s just doing super-important work stuff and can’t come over. He’s helping people who were hurt by a really bad dude; and just by doing what we’re doing, we’re helping him.”
“By letting him work?”
“Exactly.”
“Okay, but can I go play with D’Ante today? Keisha said she’d play fort with us.” I told her I’d check with their mom, and laughed to myself. If only it was that easy for me to change my focus. I was still doing research on the survivability of a party planning business, and the stark numbers were daunting, at best. I texted Shaunte and smiled up at the waiter, who had brought me a frosted pint beer mug and a pitcher of Dr. Pepper, and a fruit salad for Olivia, shaped like a dinosaur eating from a bush. I gaped at him and he shrugged.
“One of our prep cooks is an art major.” I chuckled and handed him two ten dollar bills, one for himself, and one for the prep cook.
“This is aside from the tip. Thank you for being good to my daughter.”
“It was my pleasure. I have four sisters and two nieces. I get how they think.” Olivia was ecstatic for the rest of our lunch date, demanding that I take pictures and post them on “Face TV book,” and chortling over the captions she asked me to type for her.
Shaunte had gotten back to me, via text, before we’d finished eating, and that left me with nothing to do with the rest of my day, but drop her off on our way into our neighborhood and work on finding myself a career that would provide for me and my daughter.
Two hours later, sitting at the bar in my kitchen, all I wanted to do was hit my head on the counter until I knocked myself out. I checked in with Shaunte, who said the kids were great, and Dale was home from work and building them a skyscraper from empty boxes he’d purchased for them to move with.
Knowing I could not stand my own company for one more minute, I invited her over, and promised her wine. I had popped the cork and was letting it breathe in a special decanter Tucker had left on one of his visits, when I heard her knock at the door, and wondering why she bothered, I hollered for her to come in, or kick the door if her arms were full and she need help.
I heard the beep of our security system as the door opened, and another as it closed, and I started digging through my fridge for snacks to munch on while we complained about our jobs and kids. We never complained about husbands. Hers was too amazing to pick on, and mine had been too damaged to be funny. But for what it was worth, I was happier than I’d ever been, and my head was in a good place, no longer just worried about surviving until tomorrow, but looking ahead to the future, to doing something that would bring me a sense of fulfilment and happiness.
I backed away from the fridge with an armload of fattening foods, and as it closed, I turned to ask Shaunte for help getting it all to the counter. Instead, the entire pile hit the floor as I stared into the pale, drawn face of the one woman I never expected to see in my kitchen.
“Kristy, oh wow. Um, hold on; let me clean this up.” Kristy bent down and helped me pick up the fruit and cheeses that had rolled away from me on the tile floor, and smiled shyly as she piled it on onto the counter.
“You said come in,” she started, uncertainty in her voice. “You had your head in the fridge, I didn’t want to say something and have you bash your head.” I laughed.
“Thanks for that.” I scrubbed my hand over my neck. “I was expecting someone else, but I’m happy to see you.”
“Well, are you happy to see me too?” Shaunte’s voice floated in from the foyer. “I come bearing high-fat snacks and wine coolers!” Kristy chewed her lip nervously, but she sat in the barstool I pulled out for her, and relaxed as she watched me cut pears and apples and arranged them on a plate with aged cheddar and goat cheeses. I introduced them, and gave Kristy a paring knife and an apple to keep her hands busy.
“Damn Libby, you and your fancy schmancy cheese plates,” She rolled her eyes and I saw Kristy hide a smile as Shaunte winked at her. “I brought donut holes, Bugles, and Chex mix. You’re welcome.” I pointed her toward the cupboard with the bowls and earned myself another eye roll. “I know where the damned dishes are, snowflake.” Kristy’s eyes were huge as she watched Shaunte move around the kitchen as if it was her own, and tease me at every turn.
“You must be Libby’s best friend,” Kristy finally said to her, quietly.
“Well, yes, I like to think I am, but why do you say that?” Shaunte leaned over the counter and smiled at the young woman.
“Because you know her kitchen, and you make fun of her. I’ve never heard anyone do that, even from the people who don’t like her. They’d try, but it was like they were telling a joke with no punchline. I thought it meant Libby was kind of scary.” A surprised laugh escaped Shaunte, and when she looked at me, I couldn’t help but laugh, too.
“She’s not scary. She almost broke her face last week, trying to tease a coworker with a carafe of water.”
“God. Thanks, Shaunte.” I put away the extra food and admired the spread. “Looks good. Now we can drink more without getting sick.” Shaunte and Kristy got to know each other while they sipped their drinks, Shaunte with a glass of pinot noir, Kristy with a wine cooler.
“I have not had one of these since—well, since I skipped school and went hiking with my best friend,” Kristy reminisced with a giggle. “We thought we were so badass, smoking cigarettes she conned the gas station attendant into selling, and drinking the coolers we stole from her mom.”
“Whatever happened to her?” I asked.
“She got me into dancing,” Kristy sighed. “And then she got me into coke.” Shaunte and I exchanged a glance, but said nothing. “Then, I stopped using, because I just wasn’t into drugs. The next thing I knew, we weren’t friends anymore, and she made sure the world knew she hated me.”
Her voice was low and I pretended I didn’t see the stray tear that dropped onto the counter as she stared down at her plate. Shaunte set a stack of napkins on the table and pushed one off the top towards the sniffling girl.
“You must think I’m such a loser,” Kristy sniffed. “I didn’t plan on coming here and feeling sorry for myself.”
“Why did you come?” Shaunte shot me a look and I rephrased the question. “I mean, you’re always welcome, did you have a reason to come, or did you just want to say ‘hi’?” Kristy played with the food on her plate, her face screwed into a grimace.
“I don’t have anywhere to go, and because of the freeze on my, well, on Andrew’s assets, I’m broke.” She looked up at me and I covered my face with my palm.
“Yeah. Tucker started this whole… ethics… thing, and it included investigating him and that cute little student, Cynthia, so you aren’t alone in that dinghy.”
“So, you want money from Libby, after wrecking her marriage and taking everything she had to begin with?” I waved my hands and rushed to Kristy’s side.
“She had nothing to do with my divorce, Shaunte. He met her after we’d separated.” My friend backed down, but her grey eyes glinted dangerously. I rubbed Kristy’s shoulder and smiled at my protective friend. “How much do you need to survive until this is over, Kristy?” She shrugged and shook her head.
“I don’t really want your money,” she countered. “I just want my life back.” I chewed on my cheek for a moment.
“Did I ever tell either of you, that Andrew filed for divorce right after he found out he had cancer? He never even told me he was sick.” Kristy and Shaunte exchanged glance. “Crazy, right? Who does that?” I patted Kristy one last time and claimed my glass of wine, drained it, and held it out to Shaunte for a generous refill.
“Then why did he propose to me?”
“I don’t know. Did he tell you he was dying?” Kristy frowned and shook her head.
“He said he had been sick, that’s why he’d lost some weight.”
“I can’t help but wonder, knowing the way he was, if he thought he’d manage it on his own then realized he just couldn’t stand to be alone. The nefarious Mrs. Peele Senior isn’t exactly the caregiving type.”
“Great. Was anything he said, not a lie?” Kristy tossed her empty cooler in the trash and grabbed a wine glass. I winked at Shaunte and opened two more bottles of white I had in the fridge, just in case, and Shaunte filled Kristy’s glass.
“Did he tell you you’re beautiful?” I asked, chuckling at Kristy’s snort. “Did he tell you he never loved me?” Her face went from irritated, to grave, and she looked down at the glass she as spinning slowly in her hands. “Well, there you are. Two non-lies, right off the bat.” I folded my arms. “What can I do to help you, Kristy?”
“I shouldn’t have brought my problems to your doorstep. I should go.” I snatched Kristy’s purse from the barstool next to her.
“You’ve had too much to drink. On top of that, you are the only other person in the world who truly understands what I went through with Andrew. I don’t hate you for being the next person he latched onto, I hate him for putting you through all that, just so he didn’t have to die alone, all because he realized it was harder than he thought.” The silence that filled my kitchen was heavier than my heart the day I’d realized what I said to Kristy was true.
“We are going to need more than wine for this therapy session,” Shaunte drawled. She whipped out her phone and her fingers flew over the face. “Dale’s sending fried chicken and cinnamon rolls. You’ll thank me later.”
“Last time, Kristy. What can I do to help?” She twisted her fingers together anxiously, in an all too familiar gesture.
“Can I stay with you for a few days? I’ll pay you back for whatever I use, once I get a job.”
“I have a room you can use. But I don’t want your money. Just—don’t leave the fridge empty if you empty it, don’t leave messes in your wake, and be nice to Olivia. You are her stepmom, after all.” Kristy gasped. Andrew hadn’t let us near his new wife or himself before he died. I watched her face as she processed what I’d offered, and knew her answer from the tears that poured down her face. She took off, then circled back and I pointed her toward the guest washroom.
“Are you ready for a houseguest who’s slept with your husband?” Shaunte asked.
“Ex-husband. Honestly, the hardest part will be that seeing her might make me think of him on occasion. I’m sure even that would pass, though.” Shaunte drank her wine and folded her dark arms in front of her chest, eyeing me coolly.
“Never a dull moment with you, Libby. Olivia will be thrilled at the new company. But I wonder what Tucker will think.”
I nodded my head. “Me too. I’d like to know what he’d think of quite a few things. Too bad he isn’t here to weigh in.” I drained my wine and sighed. Maybe life wasn’t as simple without him as I’d thought. Which meant that missing him had no upside at all.