The Breakup Mix (16 page)

“That’s because it is your baby. I’m just the oven keeping the little feller cooking. I want to do this for you, Dani. I’m just glad it’s all working out.”

“How did it go with Mark?”

I sighed. “Not good. Not good at all, in fact. He said some pretty awful things and assumes I’m going to have an abortion, so we’re going to let him think that, okay?”

She paled and whispered, “Legally, though—”

“Legally, you won’t have anything to worry about. He wants nothing to do with this baby or me. He made that very clear. So you don’t have to worry about it. Plus, he doesn’t know you and Barry have split up, so if he ever hears word that you’ve got a baby, he’ll just assume it was yours anyway.”

“Speaking of Barry, the paperwork is already filed, and it’s just a matter of letting it sit for the duration of the waiting period and then the judge will sign off on it. I’ve decided to sell the house and buy something smaller after I pay Barry for his half. I’ve got two people interested and it isn’t even listed yet.”

“So it sounds like that’s working out well.”

“I’m not even going to look at buying until we get back from Florida, soooo . . .”

I squealed. “Yes, yes, yes! Oh my gosh, yes! Please stay with me. I’m going out of my mind by myself over there.”

She grinned. “I was hoping you’d say that. I’m going to sell everything, so I’ll only have my personal belongings when I move in. I want a fresh start with new furniture—minus the rocking chair, of course.”

“We’ll find a perfect place for that, I promise.”

“How have you felt today?”

I thought for a second. “Ya know, I don’t think I’ve puked once today. I’m exhausted, though. It takes a lot of energy to create another human, apparently.”

Dani laughed. “I imagine so. Go home and get some rest. And thank you so much for my gifts. I’ve got some reading to do.” She winked and rubbed the cover of
What to Expect when You’re Expecting
. “A baby . . . I can’t believe I’m going to have a baby.”

“Study well. I’m counting on you to tell me what the hell is happening to me.” I left Dani’s house and could barely keep my eyes open on the drive home. By sheer will, I pulled in the driveway at my house and stumbled through my house. I didn’t even bother to take off my clothes or brush my teeth, and I’m pretty sure I was asleep before I had the covers over my shoulder.

Chapter Twenty-One

Rolling in the Deep

Michelle

The house would have exploded if the tension levels had risen any higher. Del Ray was still pissed off that no one picked her up from school, Martin and Gibson were still upset because I dropped the f-bomb when I got home, and Brandon was fuming because I lost my job. And, I didn’t have the energy to try to pretend things were fine. The only sounds at dinner were the scrapes of forks hitting plates and the occasional request for someone to pass a dish.

My muscles were still very sore, but I knew better than to complain or make it appear I was uncomfortable lest I become the butt of several jokes and jabs. Del Ray was perched ready to attack, and I didn’t want to give her any ammunition in which to get grounded over. I just wanted to go to bed.

I looked over my family. “Guys, I want to apologize for my behavior today. I had a bad day and was wrong to take it out on you. I’m sorry.”

Gibson and Martin mumbled, “It’s okay, Mom,” or some variation around the mouthfuls of taco salad. Del Ray rolled her eyes and shook her head then excused herself from the table to start clean-up. I glanced at Brandon who stared at me with a fresh pissed-off look on his face. I had no idea how long it would take for him to not look at me like the turd in a punch bowl. I had visions of me landing a big fancy job tomorrow and coming home to announce that I would be the breadwinner and he could kiss my fat, white ass.

Or maybe I would just tell him that anyway.

I excused myself, scraped my unfinished meal in the trash and headed to the couch to wait for Gibson so we could work on homework. I picked up the remote and started flipping channels while trying to remember the last time I sat on this couch flipping channels. I wondered how many people spent their lives sitting on couches watching other people live the lives they never had the balls to pursue. Reality TV was everywhere—singing shows, daredevil shows, survival shows, you-name-it. I settled on
The Voice
and watched Gwen and Adam battle it out for a contestant with a powerhouse voice and knocking knees.

“Mom, did you hear me?” Del Ray asked.

“What baby? No, I wasn’t listening. What’d you say?”

She sighed. “I asked if you had decided about me spending the night at Kara’s this Friday.”

“How are your grades?”

“Fine, same as always.”

“Yeah, it’s fine with me, then. Ask your father, though.” I turned my attention back to the TV then thought about what just went down. “Actually, no, you can’t go to Kara’s.”

Del Ray huffed. “Um, can I ask why?”

I put the remote on the table and stood up. “Yes, you can, but I’m no longer obligated to explain myself to you. I don’t appreciate coming home to your smart mouth and rants of how your father and I have failed you yet again when we work our butts off to give you guys a good life. You no longer get the privilege of treating me like your hired hand. I’m your mother and you’re my daughter, not my equal, you got me? If you want to go to Kara’s, you’re going to have to work for it.” I sat down and turned the television up.

“What the crap, Mom? What’s your problem?”

Martin mumbled, “You just got told, Del. Good job, Mom.” He sat beside me and curled up under my arm. “What are you watching?”

“Oh, I’m just flipping channels.
The Voice
has caught my eye.”

“Oh, I like this show,” he said.

Del Ray stomped over to the television and stood in front of it. “Um, hello, I’m still talking to you.”

“Move your ass, Del Ray. I’m not even kidding right now.”

She sidestepped three feet and stood next to the television with her arms folded across her chest. “I want to know where you think I’m treating you like my hired hand.”

I faked a chuckle. “Well you can start with all that action you’ve got going on there. You’re posture suggests you feel superior to me and that you’re entitled to a justifiable answer. That’s simply not the case. See, I can say no just for the fun of saying no, and you have to obey because that’s the natural law and order of parenthood. I get to make decisions and you get to obey them.”

Brandon entered the living room. “Michelle, have you lost all your marbles today? What’s gotten into you? She wants to go to a friend’s house Friday night. Big deal. Why are you entering a pissing contest with her over it?”

“Because when I got home, she attacked me, and I don’t appreciate it.”

“You didn’t pick her up from school like you said you were going to. She had a right to be pissed.”

“You were the one that was off today, so why didn’t you get the ass chewing when you could have just as easily picked her up?”

“Because I’m not the one that told her I would be somewhere and didn’t show up.”

“It’s no wonder these kids treat me the way they do when you give them the blueprints, Brandon.”

Martin looked up at me and whispered, “Mom, I don’t treat you like they do.”

“No, you don’t, baby. No you don’t.”

“Suck up,” Del Ray mumbled. “So Dad, can I go to Kara’s then?”

“I don’t have a problem with it, but make sure you get the final nod from the newly unemployed queen on the throne!” Brandon left the house and slammed the door on his way out.

Even Del Ray’s eyes revealed the shock of Brandon’s disrespect. She saw the tears welling up in my eyes, and her chin quivered slightly before she stomped down the hallway and slammed the door. Martin looked at me like he was mentally wishing for us to disappear and reappear anywhere but here. “I love you, Mom.”

I wrapped my middle child in my arms. “I love you, too, bud.” I glanced at the table to see Gibson still shoving food around on his plate. A lone tear dripped down his cheek which he wiped on his shirt sleeve. “Come here, Gib.”

He got up and ran to me, throwing himself on my lap. “I hate all this yelling, Mom.”

“Me too, sweetie, me too. So I guess I should tell you that I don’t have a job anymore. That’s why Daddy is so upset. He’s just worried, that’s all. But I’m going to go out tomorrow and try to find a new one, okay?”

I felt the boys nod and take turns sighing. Neither one of them said anything, so I just held them until they were ready to let go. I needed to go talk to Del Ray, but I figured I’d get her after the boys calmed down.

Gibson looked at me. “So does that mean you’ll pick us up from school tomorrow?”

“Yep, that’s what that means. I’ll take you
and
pick you up. What do you think about that?”

The boys smiled and Martin asked, “Will you make us a special after-school snack like you used to?”

I smiled and sighed. “Oh, I’m sure I can whip something up.”

Martin turned his attention to the woman singing on television. “She’s a really good singer.”

Gibson turned to watch. “What’s that mean when the chairs turn around?”

I said, “It means the people in the chairs think that person is good and want them on their team.”

Gibson looked at me. “If I was in the chair, I’d pick you, Mom.”

The bubbling brook in me overran the banks and poured onto my face. My husband and daughter thought I was a worthless piece of shit, but my sweet sons were cuddled up on my lap telling me they wanted me on their team. I couldn’t help but cry with the sweet way Gibson was trying to make me feel better. I had people on my side—people under my own roof were on my side. And, after the look on Del Ray’s face before she ran down the hallway, I’d say I’m close to getting another one, too. It’s one thing for a child to ass-up to their parent; it’s an entirely different animal when someone else starts trash talking their mama. I’ll be curious to see what Del Ray says when I talk to her.

I tried to get up, but Martin squeezed me and whispered, “Just a minute longer.”

I smiled. “Okay, bud. What do you think of that guy singing?”

Martin shrugged. “I think he sounds okay, but he won’t get any chairs to turn.”

I looked at him then glanced at the television. “Why do you think that?”

“Because he sounds like he’s trying to sound just like the man that sang the song in real life.”

I nodded and waited for the song to finish. When no chairs turned around, I smiled at Martin. “Wow, you called that one.”

Martin gave me a half-smile and shrugged. “I like this show.”

“You know, your dad was quite the musician back in the day. Sounds like you got some of his talent.”

“Dad’s going to teach me to play guitar when my hands get bigger,” Gibson said.

“You could probably start now with a smaller guitar.”

“That’s what I said, but he said I have to grow up more first.”

“Well, I’ll talk to your daddy about that. I think it would be great for you guys to learn to play. I bet it would be fun for Daddy, too.”

Brandon came in the door. “What would be fun for Daddy?”

“Teaching the boys to play guitar,” I said and held my breath while waiting for him to say something stupid.

“Gibson needs to get a little bigger. Martin could start, though.” He looked at his middle child. “Do you have any interest in it?”

Martin shrugged and tried not to smile. “Sure, that’s cool.”

Brandon tossed his keys into the basket on the table and mumbled, “Okay, we’ll work on it.” He took a six-pack of beer to the refrigerator and popped the top of one before sitting in his chair and taking a drink. “What are we watching?”

“
The Voice
,” I said. “Have you ever watched it?”

“Nah, these shows don’t hold much interest for me since I actually know what it’s like to get up and perform in front of people.”

I studied his face as he stared at the television and wondered how this man could be the same man that just humiliated me in front of my children and now sat casually talking to all of us like we were one big happy family.

Martin asked, “Why don’t you do it, now, Dad?”

Brandon scoffed. “Because I got married and started a family, kiddo. Can’t chase your dreams while other people are counting on you.” He glared at me. “Right, Michelle?”

I pulled my arm away from Martin and leaned forward. “Oh, I don’t know, Brandon. Sometimes people make sacrifices for people because they love them and want to do whatever it takes to make them happy.”

Gibson asked, “Mom, what’s your dream?”

I stared at him. “Well, I don’t know; I’ve never really given it much thought. I always wanted to be a mom and wife to your father.”

Martin asked, “But you never had something you wanted to try?”

I shook my head and felt my stomach rolling. “No, bud, I’ve never really had anything I was good enough at to think about chasing a different dream.”

“Well, you’re a great mom, so maybe your dream did come true.”

Tears sprung to my eyes while fear gripped my heart. Is this really the sum total of my life? I stared at the television and watched the next nervous contestant backstage shaking her hands and taking deep breaths in preparation for two minutes that may completely change the course of her life. One shot to impress four people who would have a say over her next big decision. All it took was one person’s approval, and her dream would become a reality overnight. One person to just believe in her ability enough to catapult her into the next big thing. I caught myself holding my breath as she walked on stage and waited for the music to begin. She represented me in that moment; I didn’t know what my dream was, but she held it firmly in her hand as she lifted the microphone to her mouth and sang for my life.

Every person in my living room leaned forward and watched the faces of the judges as she sang behind them with all she had. Sweat formed in my palms as a cloud of disappointment flickered in her eyes; the transformation in her face left tears pricking in my eyes as she rolled into a flawless chorus that ignited the crowd’s excitement, yet none of the judges had reached for their button. She caressed the moment and microphone and finished with a breathtaking note that had tears swelling in my eyes. I heard Martin whisper, “Push the button, someone.”

The song ended and both my heart and hers cracked with the realization that no matter how hard you try or how good you are, sometimes you just don’t get the break you deserve. I slumped back against the couch and waited to hear the weak excuses offered by the judges. “Too forced . . . tried too hard . . . keep working and next year bring more of yourself and less of the original.” She held herself together until she got backstage and wept with disappointment while her supportive family consoled her.

Brandon said, “Damn, that’s a shame; she was really good.”

“Right,” I whispered as I stood and headed to the bathroom to collect myself. It was completely ridiculous for me to hinge my personal fate on the performance of a Hollywood hopeful, but the immediate parallel wasn’t lost on me.

And, I still had to go face my fourth judge—Del Ray.

I splashed my face with cold water and took a few deep breaths before knocking on her door.

“Yeah,” she mumbled.

“Can I come in?”