Why It's Called a Goodbye Page 3

  He is not going to tell my boy no. He’s not.

  I don’t know where he lives, but I’m about to find out. It’s Friday night, and I’m closing the store with Mom.

  “Where’s Malcom Murray live?” I ask her as I close out the cash register for the evening.

  “He bought and fixed up that old house out on the lake. The Henderson’s old place. Why?”

  “I have to go talk to him about Atticus.” I’d rather go cuddle up on the couch and watch stupid TV while binge eating ice cream than to go see him tonight, but I’d do anything for my boys.

  “Can’t you just call him? I have his number.” Mom pulls out a book from her purse. She has an actual address book. I want to laugh. Everyone keeps numbers in their phones. Not my mom, though. She has an address book that looks like it’s on its last leg.

  “No, I have to do this in person.” I’m not going to let him tell me no.

  After the store is locked, I get in my car and drive to the outskirts of town. As soon as I reach the lane to the Henderson’s old place, the rain pours from the sky. I don’t know when the sky went gray, but it’s pretty dark except for the lights that wrap around the house.

  The house is beautiful and big. Too big for one person. I wonder if he lives alone. The house sits only about twenty feet from the lake. It looks more like a cabin than a house. The porch seems to wrap around the entire house.

  I park beside his Explorer, turn my car off, and prepare to run in the rain. I hop out, slam the door shut, and run as fast as I can up the sidewalk. I run up the steps and under the roof of the porch.

  I’m dripping on the two by fours and shivering as I knock on his door. Being wet sure makes you cold quick.

  He opens the door and I gravitate to his eyes. They’re a green-gray hue which remind me of a rainy day. Kind of like today. The rain begins to crash down in big drops hitting the windowpane, but it makes a soft soothing sound. Not everyone finds that sound soothing, but I do. I wish I could snuggle up on the couch and drink hot tea while looking out the big window at the lake as the raindrops sink beneath the water. But, that seems kind of forward of me to ask, seeing as this is my first time here.

  I put my hands on my hips. “I’m here to talk about Atticus.”

  He nods before leaving me just inside the doorway wet and dripping on his floor.

  When he makes his way back into the living room, he’s holding a towel along with a Bearcats sweatshirt. It’s gray, and the maroon letters are fading.

  “Here,” he says as he extends them out to me.

  I step forward meeting him in the middle of the room. “Thanks, Malcom, but I don’t plan to stay long. I’ll just use the towel and be on my way.”

  As soon as I finish talking, a tree limb falls, breaking in two on the railing of the part of the porch that faces the lake. The noise makes me jump, and I slip on the water beneath my feet falling to my knees in front of him.

  Malcom squats and grabs my elbow. “Don’t be lame, you can stay until the storm rolls over.”

  I stand and remove my elbow from his grip. I look out the window, and the sky is as dark as night as far as I can see. “Who says lame anymore? I think it’ll be a while before this storm rolls over.” Longer than I’m sure he wants me here.

  “I do. Just call me Mac. No one calls me Malcom. I told you this before.”

  “Well, I happen to like Malcom.” Mac sounds like pasta and not a person.

  He laughs. “That’s because you’re lame. I’ll go by Malcom when I’m old.”

  “You’re thirty-two.” We aren’t kids anymore.

  He rolls his eyes. “I’m in my prime.”

  “You think?” I say and then turn to head to a room without him in it to change, but I don’t know where to go. I raise an eyebrow. “You have a bathroom or somewhere I can change my shirt?”

  “Yeah, the guest bathroom is right there.” He points down the hall.

  I walk down the short hall. There is a door on the left, a door on the right, and the bathroom where he pointed, in the middle. I walk in and shut the door behind me. I turn on the light, and I’m staring at a shower curtain that is a giant pink troll from the kid movie Trolls. The rest of the bathroom is decked out in bright colors.

  I take off my shirt only to discover that my bra is soaked too, so I remove it as well. I roll my bra up in my shirt and pull on the sweatshirt. I attempt to brush my hair with my fingers.

  I turn the light off as I exit the bathroom. Malcom is leaning against the kitchen counter when I make it back to him. His kitchen and living room are open to each other. You can see the lake through the floor to ceiling windows in the living room from where we’re standing in the kitchen.

  “I can put that in the dryer.”

  I hug my shirt to my chest, and my eyes bulge. “No, it’s…it’s fine.”

  He takes a step closer to me. “I really don’t mind.”

  I can tell he isn’t going to take no for an answer. “Okay.” I hand them over. “Do you have a daughter?”

  He laughs as he walks around the corner and opens a folding door revealing a washer and dryer. “The pink give it away?”

  “Something like that. How old is she?”

  “Elsie is eight. You wanted to talk about Atticus?” He turns and sits down at the bar.

  I walk over and sit down, leaving a seat between us. “Atticus said you wouldn’t allow him on the team. He’s good, Malcom. Like really good. I’ve already uprooted everything in their lives moving back here. He loves soccer.”

  “Like I told him, the season has already started.”

  I cross my arms and pout. “You really can’t take on one more kid?”

  He looks me up and down. “You look pretty good in my sweatshirt. I mean…we could work something out.”

  “Shut up! I’m not like that.”

  He mimics my stance. “Oh, I know. You turned me down in high school too. I remember.”

  “You remember that? I thought it was a joke. I thought you were making fun of me. Like I was some kind of game you and your friends could laugh about later.”

  He laughs. “Nope, it wasn’t a joke.”

  Hmm. “I always thought you were out of my league.”

  “I never cared about that sorta thing.”

  “So, you do think you’re out of my league?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  The dryer dings, and I am thankful to end this awkward conversation. “We have a home game tomorrow night. Have him there at six. He won’t be playing, so make sure he knows that.”

  I knew he’d come around.

  Malcom grabs my things out of the dryer. He doesn’t extend them out to me, instead he says, “You weren’t wearing your bra this entire time?”

  I blush, “Uh, nope.” I grab them from his hands.

  “Damn.”

  He almost sounded sad when he hadn’t realized. I’ve had my arms crossed pretty much the entire time. It’s not like he would have been able to see anything anyway. I run back to the bathroom and change quick as if I need to be somewhere. I don’t need to be anywhere, just somewhere that isn’t here.

  He’s standing by the door when I get out of the bathroom.

  I say, “Bye, Malcom,” as I duck under his arm and race out the door.

  “You’re the only person I’m okay with calling me by my full name. Mostly because I feel like I don’t have a choice,” he says as I run down the steps to the car.

  I wanted to stay and watch the game. I know Atticus isn’t playing, but I wanted to see what the team had to offer. As soon as we got there, I received a call from Mom. Sawyer was throwing up everywhere. I had to drop off Atticus and head back to Sawyer.

  Sawyer is fine. He was running a fever when I got to him. There was nothing left to throw up, so I forced him to drink some Sprite. He threw that right back up and said I was evil. I know he didn’t mean it, that he’s just sick, but it did hurt my feelings. I tucked him in before I left to go pick up Atticus.

/>   I’m late. I think the game was over at least a half hour ago, maybe longer. He’s going to be upset with me. I pull up in the roundabout near the field and lights have the field lit up. There are two figures out in the middle, and I watch them. Malcom is wearing black sweatpants and the Bearcats sweatshirt I had on last night. I wonder if he washed it or just wore it because it smelled like me? I don’t think guys do that sort of thing.

  I watch as they each dribble a ball from one side of the field to the other practicing footwork, speeding up, and slowing down. They do this three times before lining a few balls up out in front of the goal. Malcom steps aside and gestures for Atticus to kick them. Atticus takes different shots, and I can tell he’s trying to hit all the cross bars. He’s really trying to impress Malcom. I hope Malcom is impressed enough to let him be on the team.

  I get out of the car and make my way to them. I wonder if Malcom has ever had sex on a soccer field. I’m sure he has. That makes me sad, as if I need more things to be sad about. I shake my head. I never even liked him.

  “Come on, Atticus, time to leave Malcom alone.”

  Atticus looks at Malcom. “You mean Coach Murray?”

  “Yeah, Coach Murray, come on.”

  They both jog to where I’m standing by the fence. Malcom lifts up the hem of his sweatshirt and says, “You need to borrow this?”

  “Nope. I’m just fine,” I say, as I pull on the collar of my raincoat. “Have a good night.”

  “Oh, I plan to.”

  I bet he does. Probably has a threesome planned on the field. I stomp back to the car.

  After we’re on the road Atticus asks, “Why did Coach ask if you wanted to borrow his hoodie?”

  “I don’t know, honey. Are you feeling okay?” I place the back of my hand on his forehead. “Your brother is pretty sick. There must be a virus going around. I hope we all don’t end up coming down with something.”

  FIVE

  I talked to Inez this morning. It’s been a week, and I haven’t received a call from Stephen. I figured he’d be going off about the divorce by now. I know he’s been calling the kids all week, but he hasn’t asked for me. I know if he had received the papers, he would have demanded to speak to me.

  Inez said that she would have her paralegal look up the tracking number and get back to me.

  Today is my first day at my new job as a freelance writer. They gave me an outline, and now I just have to fill in the details. They want me to write three thousand words a day and have the book finished in forty-five days, if not sooner, the email read.

  I’m beginning to panic over the deadline even though I did see a doctor this week about my panic attacks. I refused any meds because I think it might obscure my writing capabilities. We ended up settling on me agreeing to see a therapist. My first appointment with her is next week. I also went to an OBGYN, and I’m glad I do not have any STDs.

  As I stare at my blank screen waiting for the words to come, I receive a call from Inez.

  “What’s up?” I ask hoping to hear that Stephen has been served and agreed to sign although I know it won’t be that easy.

  “Bad news, tracking says it’s stuck in Wyoming.”

  “Wyoming! All it had to do was go one state over!” I begin to laugh because it’s quite funny my divorce papers would end up taking a long trip. Then I feel bad for being rude. “I know it isn’t your fault, Inez.”

  “Good because there really isn’t anything I can do. But to make it up to you, you wanna go to a movie Saturday night? My treat.”

  “If Mom and Pops can keep an eye on the boys, maybe a girl’s night out would be good for me.”

  “For us. And your boys are fourteen. They’re old enough to watch themselves for a couple hours. We did when we were their age.”

  “They might be old enough, but they are not mature enough. Trust me. Before we came down here, they rarely even spoke to each other unless they were fighting.” They had separate rooms there, but here they have to share a room and maybe that’s all they needed to get along.

  “Let me know then. Gotta go.”

  I made some headway on the story before going to pick the boys up from school. The outline they gave me said it needs to be about an ex-con and small-town homecoming queen. It makes me want to vomit writing this trash, but I need money.

  As I pull up, I remember why I didn’t arrive sooner. I don’t know why the other parents show up and sit in their car for hours waiting in the pickup line. I’ve been getting here five minutes after school has let out, and I get through the line in less than ten minutes. I definitely do not want to spend my free time sitting in a car.

  Both boys sulk as they get in the back seat. The rear doors slam in unison.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask.

  Atticus, “We don’t want to hurt your feelings, Mom, but we miss Dad.”

  I look in the rearview mirror as I pull away. “We can see if he’s free this weekend if you guys want to go see him.”

  Atticus, “He is. We already asked. Sorry, Mom.”

  “It’s okay. I know you guys want to spend time with your dad. Can I see one of your phones to call him?”

  Sawyer’s voice is almost a whisper, “He told us he was heading this way around lunch.”

  We’re at a red light when I place my hand on the passenger side headrest and turn around so I can see both of their faces. “When were you going to tell me? Do you not want to live with your mom?”

  Sawyer, “It isn’t like that, Mom. We promise.”

  “You guys pinky promise me now that you’re coming back on Sunday. You’re coming back, right?” A tear falls from my eye, slipping down my cheek.

  Sawyer wipes it away and says, “Mom, don’t cry. The light’s green.”

  I turn back around and drive.

  The boys promised to come back and said they would call me every evening. I peeked out the window when Stephen drove up. He was alone. At least he didn’t bring her with him. I’m surprised he took off to come and get them. He never wanted to take any time off work before. I asked all the time for him to be home more, but he was always too busy, and then I just quit asking.

  Since they’re gone, I texted Inez to let her know I’m in for tomorrow night. Now I’m nestled under a blanket in my pajamas watching American Murderer while I eat ice cream out of a gallon tub.

  Mom walks in, sits down next to me, and slaps my leg. “Adaline, the boys are gone, so why are you here?”

  I pull the spoon out of my mouth and wave it around. “Where else should I be?”

  “Looking for a man.”

  Huh? “I’m still married.”

  “Soon to be divorced.”

  “Honestly, I’m surprised you aren’t pushing for me to take Stephen back.”

  She shrugs. “I never did like him. He did right by marrying you, but I always felt like you were settling. I just know there’s someone else out there for you.”

  “Not yet. I want to find myself first. I don’t want to have to depend on a man.”

  “Like Inez, I know.”

  “Yes, and speaking of her, I am going to a movie with her tomorrow.”

  She smacks my leg again. I rub it as soon as her hand leaves my thigh. She stands up and walks out of the room shaking her head from side to side.

  I get dressed for this romantic comedy that’s playing at the new Brew & View movie theater in the next town over. Just as I’m putting on the final touches to my makeup, I get a text from Inez.

  Inez: Not gonna be able to make it tonight. Sorry. Brunch tomorrow?

  Me: Sure

  I walk into the living room and sit down next to Mom on the sofa. Pops is asleep in the recliner.

  “I thought you were going out?” Mom asks.

  “Inez canceled.” I don’t know why I’m bummed about it. We were only going to see a movie.

  “You should still go. Go do something for yourself. When was the last time you did something just for you?”

  I think, but I can’
t remember. My days are normally spent caring for and worrying about the boys. School, homework, practices, and organizing playdates - not that they have too many of those anymore. PTA meetings and games on the weekends have claimed most of my time the last fourteen years. I’m steering clear of the PTA here. No way I want to hang out with girls I hated in high school.

  “Okay, I’ll go, but won’t it be weird for me to go alone?” I’ve never gone to a movie alone.

  “Honey, your father and I might own a business together, but we do lots of things without each other. Now go find yourself again.” She shoos me away with her hands.

  I walk into the Brew & View and head to the ticket line. I order my ticket and a large popcorn. I hear a familiar voice from behind me. I turn around.

  “Well look what the cat dragged in,” the voice I could fall in love with says. If I were allowing myself to fall in love again, but I am not. I turn to see Malcom leaning on a barstool and talking to the brunette sitting next to him. She laughs and throws her head back. She has no clue what he’s talking about; she’s just trying to make him feel good about his lame-ass joke.

  He’s wearing a blue pullover and jeans. Our eyes connect as he slinks away from her touch and stands. He begins to walk toward me.

  I rotate back around, grab my ticket and popcorn, and make my way down the hall to my romantic comedy. I sit in the front row. There are a few other couples behind me, but not many people have chosen to watch this particular movie tonight.

  I’ve eaten all my popcorn even though the movie has only been playing for about fifteen minutes. I hear shuffling coming from my left. The room is dark except for the screen, but I’d know that tall figure from a mile away. Malcom sits down next to me. A drink makes its way in front of my field of vision. “Here, I noticed you didn’t get a drink.”

  I ignore him the rest of the movie.

  As the ending credits roll, I get up and head to my car. He follows behind me, hot on my tail. What’s with him. I should have never come. Why did I listen to my mom? I don’t even know what happened in the movie because the entire time Malcom was trying to get my attention which was distracting.