Page 23 of Stealing It
“There weren’t very many truths between us, were there? There wasn’t room for truth in our garden of lies.”
He stays silent on the other end of the line and I hope he’s thinking of all of the years I was a good wife and mother, only loving and helpful, and careful with my words. “The truth hurts, but I’ve come to realize I can sell the past and buy a new, magnificent future. All it costs is acceptance. I accept that you were an awful husband. I accept that I didn’t see the signs. Kendall accepts that you aren’t a role model and thatshewill never be a respectable woman. The question remains if you can accept that,” I say, my breaths speeding. It’s therapeutic to get it off my chest like this, not having to see his face which might make me weaker or influence my words.
Paul coughs. “I don’t have a choice, do I?”
“There is always a choice. You know that. You make all sorts of choices.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Life isn’t fair,” I say. “Tell her to mark down Kendall’s RSVP please.”
“Yeah, yeah, Maggie. Yeah,” he says, defeated, his nasal tone telling me he’s finished with our conversation as it’s not going his way.
“Oh, and Paul?”
He grunts as his reply.
“Congratulations on your impending marriage. I’m sure it will bring you nothing but happiness for the rest. Of. Your. Life.” I hang up the phone with a flourish.
“You are a motherfucking champion, Magnolia Sager,” Jenny says, jumping up and down. “The girls are on their way back. Perfect timing.” She flashes the phone screen and the dot heading down our road. That’s the only relief I feel in this moment. “How good did that feel? I feel good for you!”
I don’t feel strong. I feel weak because I’m just realizing if I’d done this sooner, I could have moved on, pieced my life back together, found Aidan sooner. “He’s upset.”
“Are you really upset because he’s upset?” Jenny fires.
I breathe out. It was just a realization. “I used to be. Not now. It’s odd not apologizing and trying to make things right. I do feel…good.” I hang my head, my coiled muscles relaxing now that conflict is finished. “Why didn’t I tell him that sooner? I stayed quiet for so long.”
“Aidan. Your soulful, beefcake. It changes things when you care for someone, Magnolia, makes you realize the differences between what you thought your marriage was, and what it actually was. That’s how it was for me.” She swallows hard, setting her wine glass on the counter. “It doesn’t matter how long it took, all that matters is you made it to the other side. All the things you should have done and said, and known, won’t haunt you anymore.”
I pick up my phone and see that the girls are back, parking their bikes beside the shed, the dot blinking right on top of our house. Peering out the window I see them chattering away, talking animatedly. “My only hope is one day she’s not haunted,” I admit, my voice low.
“She’s happy. Look,” Jenny says, striding to stand next to me. “All it will take is time. More time. Kendall has made this much progress already. Let yourself be happy. Let it happen.” Jenny knows. She lives inside that same place I do. That balance of being a mother and a father, fulfilling your child’s needs before your own and what that means for the guilt that comes in the nanoseconds where you do indeed think of yourself. The heart pulls in opposite directions.
“She does look happy, doesn’t she?” I say, wistful.
The girls barge in through the mudroom a few seconds later, giggling wildly. “That was so much fun! A raccoon almost made me fall off my bike,” Juliet exclaims, taming her ponytail. “It ran right out in front of me.”
“As long as a raccoon was the only thing trying to harm you, I’m okay with that. You still have the pepper spray on that keychain in your basket, right?” I ask, visions of raccoons with red eyes and foaming mouths attacking the thing I love most in this world go floating through my head. “We might need to throw it away and get a new one. Those things might expire.”
“I’m fine, Mom,” Kendall says, rolling her eyes. “The pepper spray is still viable, I’m sure.”
Jenny picks up her wine and takes a slow sip. “Who all was there?” she asks with narrowed eyes.
Kendall looks left, Juliet pulls out her hair and ties it up again, and I wonder if it’s a nervous gesture. “Just a few girls. They were drinking, but we didn’t,” Juliet replies. “We just said hey and talked for a bit and then rode home. No biggie.”
Kendall nods along. “Yeah, what she said.”
“Which girls? Do I need to call their mothers? Are they going to make it home okay?” I inject, trying not to let my mind wander to the dark place.
“They left when we did, Mom. They’re fine. Drinking a little and getting blitzed like the In Ring are two totally different things,” Kendall says. She’s told me about the In Ring. The cool kids who have claimed Bronze Bay as their own personal palace. They have parents and grandparents who grew up here. Their Bronze Bay roots are deep, allowing them to rule the high school and get away with almost anything. This is the first she’s mentioned them drinking like college kids, though.
“The In Ring drinks a ton?” I ask.
Juliet opens the fridge and pulls out a soda.
“Of course. I don’t think they own livers,” Kendall says, following her friend’s lead to grab a drink. They go to leave, but I have more questions.
“You’ll tell me when there’s drinking, right?”
Kendall flips her hair and straightens her tank top strap. “Of course. I’ll always tell you if there’s drinking.”
Juliet and Kendall leave the room after that and I sigh, grateful to have them under my roof, safe, locked away for at least one night. Jenny and I polish off the bottle of wine and retreat to our rooms upstairs. I hear Kendall and Juliet talking as I pass by her door. Juliet says, “I think he really likes you.”
And then Kendall’s reply, “I’m meeting him again tomorrow night.”
My stomach sinks and my heart pounds in excitement for her, but also in fear. This is what I want. For her to form a healthy relationship with a boy. Hopefully he’s a good boy who will treat her right. I don’t want her to keep secrets from me, but I understand her need to be independent. I text Aidan a quick goodnight and pass out in a wine-induced haze.
