He Left Me at Forty-Eight, Then Wanted Me Back novel · Chapter 2 of 16
Chapter 2: Nothing
Tyler tells Joanna she built nothing, Madison says she never became anything, and a neighbor calls to say Madison is telling people her mother is unstable.
I stared at that little heart until the screen went dark in my hand.
Then I turned it back on and stared some more.
I didn't sleep.
At six-thirty I heard Tyler's truck pull into the drive.
He still did laundry at our house.
He came into the kitchen in a work shirt with his tie loose.
I poured him coffee.
Twenty-four years of habit doesn't stop in one night.
He looked at the mug, then at me.
"You liked her post," I said.
"It was a heart, Mom. It's nothing."
"How long have you been covering for your father?"
"It wasn't like that."
"Then tell me what it was like."
He rubbed his face with both hands.
"Dad's been unhappy for a long time."
"So he brought her here."
"I didn't say that."
"You did when you didn't say anything."
His jaw worked.
"Dad built everything. This house. The company. All of it."
I set the coffeepot down.
He saw it land.
He kept going.
"You kept the house running. Sure. But Dad's the one who made it happen."
"You think I built nothing."
He didn't answer.
That was the answer.
I picked up his coffee and poured it down the sink.
"Go to work."
"Mom."
"Go."
He left without saying goodbye.
At nine I knocked on Madison's door.
She was home from college for the weekend.
She was sitting on her bed taking pictures of herself by the window.
"Put the phone down."
She sighed.
"Can we not?"
"No."
She dropped the phone on the comforter.
"What?"
"You posted them. On my birthday."
"It was about Dad. Not you."
"Everything about that night was about me."
Her mouth went thin.
"He's been miserable for years."
"And you decided she was the cure."
"You never changed, Mom."
I stared at her.
"Everyone grew up and moved on, and you stayed exactly the same."
"I stayed because someone had to hold this family together."
"Or because it was easier than becoming anything."
I felt that one in my ribs.
"Did she teach you that one?" I said. "Right after the honesty speech?"
She rolled her eyes.
"Brandi's honest."
"Brandi is sleeping with your father."
"Maybe she makes him happy."
I knocked the phone off her bed.
It hit the rug.
She jumped up.
"What is wrong with you?"
"What is wrong with you?"
Her cheeks went red.
"Dad deserves more than being stuck with somebody who never became anything."
Mother. Cook. Nurse. Driver. Hostess. Bookkeeper. Wife.
None of it counted, apparently.
I backed out of her room before I did something worse.
"One day you'll know what it cost me to make your life look easy."
She turned her back.
Caleb was standing in the hall in bare feet and his gray hoodie.
He'd heard it all.
"Come downstairs," I said.
He followed me to the den and sat on the edge of the couch.
Seventeen.
Still too young to hide it.
"Did you know Dad was cheating?"
A long pause.
"Yeah."
"Since when?"
"Since spring. Around Easter."
Eight months.
I closed my eyes.
"Did he tell you to keep it from me?"
"He said it was grown-up stuff."
"What else did he say?"
His eyes filled.
"He said you both knew. He said you'd agreed to wait till I graduated."
"Did I look like I knew last night?"
"No."
"Then why did you believe him?"
His mouth shook.
"Because you always acted like everything was fine."
I sat very still.
Every time I'd smiled through a bad week so they wouldn't worry.
Every time I'd said, Your dad's just tired.
All of it had turned into proof against me.
"I acted fine so you'd feel safe," I said.
He wiped his nose on his sleeve.
"Maybe nobody asked you to."
He didn't mean it to be cruel.
That made it worse.
He started crying.
Part of me wanted to pull him in the way I had when he was six.
The other part was still bleeding.
"I need a little time, baby."
He nodded into his hands.
I went upstairs.
Our bedroom looked the same as it had yesterday.
Bed made. My jewelry box on the dresser. His shirts in a row, pressed by me.
I sat on the end of the mattress.
Yesterday I was Joanna Chastain, wife and mother.
Today my family had decided I was a woman who cooked and never became anything.
My phone rang at 11:40.
It was Carol Pettus from two doors down.
Carol only called when somebody died or somebody's roof blew off.
"Joanna, honey. I just wanted to check on you."
"I'm fine, Carol."
"Oh, good. It's just, Madison said you were having a hard time. Emotionally."
I sat up.
"What exactly did Madison say?"
A little silence on the line.
"Well, she posted it, sweetie. Everybody's seen it."
"Seen what?"
Carol lowered her voice.
"That her mama's not stable, and the family's trying to keep you calm."
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