Page 60 of So Much More
“I echo everything he said,” I say, though I’m certain I won’t be able to afford to help financially support her and my sisters if I leave my current job for something I like better, like I’ve dreamed of doing. But I’ll stay at Carter-Jenkins forever if it means Mom can divorce Dad and we can get Sonya away from him a year earlier. “We’ll take care of all of you, Mom.”
Tears fill Mom’s eyes, and all she can say is, “You boys …,” as she dabs her eyes with her napkin. Then she takes a deep breath and says, “I can’t let you do this. I can’t. I won’t.”
“You can and you will,” Ash declares.
Mom says to Ash, “You can’t make the kind of promise you made to me without talking to Leslie about it. I know you’re not engaged yet, but something tells me you will be soon. Your father has rarely talked to me about financial decisions, but I want both of you boys to always consider your wives when you make any kind of big decision like this.”
“Leslie will be okay with it,” Ash says.
“You can’t make that assumption, even though I’m pretty sure you’re right. Talk to her, and we’ll go from there.”
My brother closes his eyes. “You’re right.” When he looks at Mom again, he says, “I guess I’m still learning, huh?”
“You’ll be learning about how to live with a woman until the day you die, son.”
He gives her a wry smile. “That’s not very reassuring, but I get it. I’ll talk to her. But for now, let’s discuss what happens next if she says yes. Before you tell Dad what you’re up to, we’ll need to get a few things in order.”
Ash proceeds to talk to Mom about their finances and property, hiring a private investigator to provide proof of Dad’s infidelity, and all sorts of other things she needs to do to prepare for the legal battle Dad will wage against her.
I sit back and listen as my little brother lays out the plan, and I marvel not only at his vast legal knowledge and ability to strategize on the fly but also Mom’s sudden willingness to leave Dad and to let us in on the private side of her life, which she has never done.
The more Ash talks, the more energized Mom becomes. My mother is an intelligent and resourceful woman and, like Ash and Dad, she can get things done that most other people can only dream of doing. She can organize anything and can get people to help her or agree with her while making them think it was their idea in the first place. She has always been a force to be reckoned with, except when it comes to Dad. Now that I think about it, in a way she reminds me of Wendy—strong and confident in every area except her love life.
When the two of them stop to take a breath, I ask Mom, “Do you still love him?”
Ash gives me a sharp look, but I ignore him and focus on Mom while she considers what to say.
“No,” she finally says. “To be fully honest, I never truly loved him in the way a wife should love her husband. I mostly loved the lifestyle and the family and the things I thought he could give me. You boys know my parents didn’t earn their money until after I was married. I didn’t like being a poor nobody. Your dad could solve that problem for me, so I let him.”
“Do you regret that?”
“No, because I wouldn’t have you kids if I hadn’t married him. I wouldn’t trade you and your sisters for any alternate version of my life. But I do wish I had mustered up the courage to leave him long ago. For your sake, I’m so sorry I didn’t.”
twenty-six
“Hi, Andrea?” I say to my half-sister’s answering machine. “This is Wendy O’Halloran. I’m sorry I missed you. Feel free to call me back anytime.” Then I leave my number.
I hang up the phone and take some deep breaths to calm my racing heart. When I got home from work today, I decided I’d bite the bullet and give her a call. Since I’m now pretty certain she doesn’t want anything from me beyond a personal connection, I’m comfortable talking to her. However, that doesn’t mean I’m not nervous about it.
Now I’m not sure what to do with myself. I don’t want to run any errands, since she might call back, and I also need to be home for Randall’s call later. But I can’t just sit here doing nothing, so I stick a TV dinner in the microwave, and when I’m finished eating my lackluster meal, I pick up my new copy ofCaribbean Bluesby Mary Higgins Clark and try to lose myself in the mystery.
It works, because when the phone rings, my body jerks in surprise. I glance at the clock, and based on the time, I know it’s probably not Randall yet, so it might be Andrea.
“Hello?” I say into the phone.
“Wendy?” a voice eerily like my own says.
“Yes, is this Andrea?”
“It is. Thanks for calling me. I enjoyed meeting your … friend yesterday.”
Since she hesitated on the word “friend,” I wonder what Randall told her about our relationship.
“Yeah,” I say. “I’m glad you and Randall were able to work that out after he missed breakfast on Saturday. I’m sorry for that, by the way.”
“Don’t worry about it. He explained what happened and he apologized.”
We’re both silent for a moment, obviously not knowing what to say to each other.
