Chapter Five
Joy hadn’t consumed bacon since her last nervous breakdown.
It was an unforgettable binge for the records, spurred by the divorce papers Victor had shoved at her that sweltering August morning. On her twenty-sixth birthday no less. She’d chucked the pages over the banister of their three-story Spanish-style mansion then ran out the door in pajamas.
It was no surprise. She’d seen it coming head-on but refused to swerve. The man was a notorious stinking cheater. She didn’t want to be in the loveless marriage anymore than he wanted her around, so it was inevitable their happily-ever-after came to a bitter halt, despite Joy’s high hope to sustain it a few years longer until the boys were out of elementary school. She’d figured Victor would roll with the punches like she’d been doing, going through the motions until the time was right to pull the plug on the miserable union. After all, she’d put up with the farce of a relationship this long without uttering a snide word about Victor’s piece of ass on the side.
To ease the pain that fateful day, she’d driven around Panama Beach aimlessly for hours, circling Chuck’s Pizza-On-The-Run a dozen times before breaking down and pulling up to the drive-thru window. She ordered a large pie with the works and devoured it in the front seat of her previous Jag, dripping oil and tomato sauce all over the creamy leather interior. Then washed it down with grape soda straight from the two-liter bottle.
To top off the worst day ever, she’d slept in her car in the Taco Tuesday parking lot because she refused to go home to Victor. A knock on the driver’s side window scared the bejeezus out of her. Waking up to the stern face of a hunky police officer was paralyzing enough, but not as bad as his presumption she was drunk behind the wheel, giving her a breathalyzer test for assurance. One glance at his silver handcuffs ignited her overactive imagination, being hauled to jail without anyone to call to bail her out. Joy bawled like a baby in the officer’s arms, who was kind enough to listen to her personal tragedy and let her go with a warning. Still shaking, afraid to drive, she inched up to the drive-thru window like a regular customer rather than a lowlife loiterer and ordered a few breakfast burritos and a strawberry milk shake.
That twenty-four hour feeding frenzy had ended in a power-puke worse that last night’s alcoholic binge.
This morning the bacon overrode that bad memory with the right combination of crispy-chewy smoky-saltiness. “This is perfection,” Joy said between bites. Although she’d regret it later, she savored another piece.
“That’s Nick for ya.”
“Wait. Your daughter’s name is Nicole and your business partner’s name is Nick? That’s a cute coincidence.”
“Not really.” Tristan smiled. “First of all, Nick and I are not business partners. The business is his. I work for him, for now. He’s Nicole’s godfather, so she’s named after him. We’ve been best buddies since we were eight. The reason I came to Scenic View was ’cause he convinced me it was a good idea. Get some distance and time away from Stacy and the divorce drama. It’s far enough from Star Harbor yet I’m still in New York State. Before he relocated here, he lived in my basement apartment, so he and Nicole are close. If she’s gonna live with me, having good old Uncle Nick around might help her adjust. Make things feel normal. Help me care for her. As you can see he’s already taking care of me as my personal chef, waking me up for work with a hungry-man’s special. He loves to cook. I’m lucky I can make a sandwich.”
“I can cook. Veggies. Fish. Salads.”
“Salads don’t really count as cooking.”
“Have you ever had diced salad? There may not be any cooking involved but the prep work is pretty labor-intensive. Not to mention the battle scars from the mandolin.”
“Maybe you’ll show me how to make it. I don’t wanna feed Nicole three square-meals of chicken nuggets and mac ’n cheese.”
Every time Tristan mentioned his daughter, his blue eyes lit up as bright as the morning sky shining through the wide window where her crooked old house next door loomed like a hideous eyesore. It was a shame the intermittent owners neglected it. Joy wondered if there was a way to salvage it without having to knock it down first.
“Everything okay? Earth to Joy.”
Joy blinked then flicked her eyes away from the glass. “Yeah. Fine. I could use a refill.” She wiggled her empty mug.
He grabbed the pot and filled it to the brim. “You like this strong, too, huh?”
“Hmm?”
“Last night you said you like your alcohol strong. And today you’re drinking your coffee black. I was just making an observation.”
“Oh, yeah.” She smiled, amazed he remembered what she’d forgotten. What else did I say? It was hard not to imagine the absolute worst spewing from her drunken lips. But considering he refused to abandon her, it couldn’t have been so bad.
“Do you wanna shower before heading home?”
She shook her head. If she got back into his tub, she doubted she’d ever want to leave. It was bad enough she didn’t want to climb off the kitchen barstool. Like the dilapidated house next door, Tristan’s place was the perfect size for her and the boys. If only she could figure out a way to claim her old home.
When the air raid siren went off in the foyer, Joy sprang from the seat, scrambling to find her over-sized pocketbook and the cellphone inside. “Victor’s calling.”
Tristan followed. “Are you sure you want to talk to him now? Maybe you oughta call him back later.”
“He never calls. It’s probably important. Maybe the boys want to talk to me.” She fumbled with the buttons. “Hello.”
“Where the hell are you? I called your parents’ house, and they said you’ve been out all night.” Victor’s nasal, high-pitched-for-a-man’s voice shrilled over the line so loud, Tristan’s eyes snapped open. Joy held the phone away from her head before her ex-husband blew her eardrum.
“Put it on speaker phone,” Tristan whispered, tugging Joy back to the kitchen.
She set it on the counter between them. “Everything’s fine, Vick. What’s going on?”
“Everything is not fine. Your mother’s freaking out. She doesn’t know where you are.”
“I spent the night at a friend’s.” Joy smacked her forehead, caught between a lie and a hard place.
“Well, she laid into me. Blaming me for everything. I knew you should have told them we’d gotten divorced two years ago. I don’t want to be dealing with this nonsense now. I’m in the middle of planning a wedding with my very pregnant, very stressed fiancée. I don’t need the added drama. And neither does Felicity.” Just like Victor to care about his needs first. How he feels. How the turn of events affected his mental state.
Joy sucked back tears. Not because she felt bad for herself but because of her ex’s humiliating harsh words in front of her new friend.
Tristan slid off the stool and came to her side, putting his hands on her shoulders. “What’s wrong with this guy?” he whispered against her ear.
His hot breath sent a ripple down her spine, straight to her core, making her want to climb into his arms for protection and maybe another glorious ride between her thighs.
“Look, Joy, I know we decided the boys would live with you once their summer vacation starts. But Felicity and I were tossing around the idea of them spending half a year with us, and the other half with you—”
“What are you talking about?” Joy shrieked, breathless. “The judge already gave me primary custody.”
“I know. But it’s not fair I just get them on holidays.”
If it weren’t for Tristan’s hands holding her in place, she would have slipped off the seat into a blubbering puddle on the floor. Stunned into silence, she didn’t even know what to say if she could find her voice.
“I knew you might not like the scenario, which is why I got a new lawyer to help figure this out. But after it sinks in, I’m sure you’ll agree. The only home they’ve ever known is here, with me. Why ruin that for them? I can give them a better life. Even with the child support, you’ll never afford to give them what they have now…” Victor rambled on.
Tristan flipped an envelope to the blank side and jotted words with a black marker then held it up for Joy to read. Tell him you’ll think about it. Call him tomorrow. Hang up now.
She whipped her ponytail with a violent headshake and mouthed No.
“Just do it,” Tristan whispered.
Releasing a shaky breath, she clenched her teeth and said, “I’ll call you tomorrow, Victor.” She hung up without a goodbye, without talking to her precious babies that hated her so much they’d rather live with Victor and some other woman than their own mother.
Tristan took her cellphone, pressed a few buttons, and shut down the device before setting it on the counter. “I added my phone number to your contacts. When you’re about to freak out and call Victor, dial me instead. As much as he might want to keep the boys, I’m sure deep down he knows they need you more. Let him stew for a while. It’ll give you time to think.”
Joy held her breath for so long she could have fainted. When she let it out, she ripped into Tristan. “You don’t know Victor at all. He’s right about everything. I can’t afford to give the kids what they have now. My in-laws own everything. The car dealership. Our house. Our life. Victor just collects a salary because they know he can’t be trusted with money. Or women. I signed a stupid pre-nup without even reading it because I was too drunk to know what it was.”
“Seriously?”
She nodded, hoping she didn’t look as ignorant as she felt. “Unfortunately.” God, what’s this nice guy gonna think of me now? “I was too excited about getting married, I didn’t care at the time because I thought we’d be together forever. Who thinks about divorce on the night before their wedding? Even if I can find a way to afford giving my boys the life they’re used to, I don’t want to force them to live with me if they don’t want to. I don’t need them hating me more than they already do.” Joy sobbed.
Tristan rubbed her back, stroked her hair, kissed her temple, and as much as she wanted to shrug off his affection, she secretly loved this gentle man’s touch. “How could they hate you? They’re just kids. They don’t know what they want. You shouldn’t take it personal. I bet Victor will change his tune sooner than you think. You’ve been away for what—less than a week? He’s been the primary care giver for five minutes. Things are bound to fall apart on his end. Give it a little time. Meanwhile plan your strategy for when he gives up rather than wasting your energy on an emotional meltdown now. Don’t let him know how you really feel. Don’t give him the power.”
“This is so hard, Tristan. I feel like I should fight for them. But they don’t even want me.” Something inside her snapped. She’d thought her heart was broken before but now it was shattered beyond repair. Weeping in his arms, tears flowed for the children she loved with every fiber of her being. Children that no longer wanted her in their lives. “My boys don’t miss me. They haven’t even called me. They…” She could barely get the words out. “They h-hate me.”
“Shhh. They can’t possibly hate you. How could anyone not love you is beyond me. God, I just met you and I think you’re incredible. And after last night.” He stopped rambling long enough to take a breath. “Nick’s right. I could totally see myself falling—”
“Don’t.” Joy pulled away, swiping her face dry with her sleeves. “Don’t, okay. Just don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t say it.” Salt stung her eyes as hot streams burned her cheeks. “I can’t bear to hear the word. It’s meaningless. Victor said he loved me. That he’d love me forever. And he didn’t.” As much as she despised the word, she’d give everything to hear her sons say it to her once more. “It’s just another four-letter word.”
“I didn’t mean to upset you, Joy.” Tristan stood, stunned like he was the wounded one.
How could he think this one-night stand was something more than what it was?
Joy needed to make things clear. She couldn’t handle a new man while still dealing with the old one. Maybe in another time. Another place. Another dimension.
But not here. Not now. Not like this. Not while her heart was still an open wound, damaged so deep she doubted she’d recover in this lifetime.
No, she couldn’t get involved with Tristan beyond this moment. Besides, he had just as many unresolved problems. Starting a relationship under these unstable conditions wasn’t fair to either of them. And then there were children to think about.
“I need to get going. You need that ride, don’t you? Let’s go.” She grabbed her car key and bag.
Tripping over the threshold, she scurried for the Jag.
Tristan jogged ahead to open the driver’s door for her before folding his big body into the passenger seat.
She took the familiar turns at forty miles per hour even though twenty-five was the limit on these winding back roads.
“Easy, cowgirl,” Tristan said more than once with his hands on the dashboard for support.
She zoomed through the parking lot behind Mr. Lucky’s and pulled alongside the lonely motorcycle, dewy from the overnight down pour.
“Hey.” Tristan took her hand and squeezed. “Don’t worry. Things’ll work out.”
Joy nodded, unconvinced.
With one foot out the door, he said, “I want to see you again. Call me, okay?”
She sighed, holding back a fresh wave of tears. “Sure, okay. I’ll call you. Later.” She forced the painful words without giving him the consideration of making eye contact.
“Is that a promise?” he asked, with a hopeful tinge to his honeyed voice.
She wanted to say yes but knew it was a lie. So she half-shrugged, half-nodded then sped off as soon as he slammed the door.
When she got to her parents’ she rang the bell because they still hadn’t cut another spare key for her.
Her mother swung the door wide, glaring. Then, without a word, returned to the living room to have her coffee with Kathie Lee and Hoda on TV.
Rex scurried across the carpet, scratching Joy’s shin until she scooped him up.
“Hey, boy,” she whispered in the dog’s furry ear. “It’s nice to know someone missed me.”
“Sooo. Where the hell have you been all night?” Sophia shouted during the commercial break, rattling the walls.
“Quiet, Ma. You’ll wake the neighbors. I met up with old friends after work,” Joy lied.
“You didn’t shack up with that Curt Calderone from the bar?”
“Geez. Of course I didn’t shack up with Cal.” She turned her face toward the wall and cringed. “I stayed at Lily’s.” Hopefully her mother wouldn’t question the baggy sweat suit because Joy was prepared to roll right into another whopper, giving the credit to Lily’s big bear-sized husband.
“Oh.” Sophia calmed down. “Well, still, you should have called. Every minute is like an hour. I was up all night waiting for you to come home.”
“You could have called my cellphone if you were so worried.” She put down the dog and headed for the kitchen for something to wash down the bitter taste of the anxiety pill she’d popped before walking in the front door in anticipation of this showdown.
“I don’t have your new number,” her mother huffed.
“Yes, you do. I wrote it down. It’s hanging right here on the refrigerator.” Joy snatched the paper from under the magnet and waved it.
“Who can read your chicken scratch? You should’ve been a doctor with such terrible handwriting. Then you wouldn’t have to take a job waitressing in a bar.”
“Bruno has my number. You could’ve asked him.”
“Your cousin was on a date last night. I didn’t want to bother him.”
“Well, you knew I was working late. You didn’t have to wait up for me.”
“Who can sleep with your husband calling all night long? Apparently he doesn’t have your new cellphone number either.”
“Yes, he does. I hung it on his refrigerator too before I left. I wouldn’t have had to get a new cellphone number if he didn’t cut off my service. And he’s not my husband anymore, so stop calling him that. Call him Victor. Or my ex. But don’t call him my husband. He was barely worthy of the title while we were married. He sure as hell doesn’t deserve it now.”
“Excuuuse me. The father of my grandchildren.”
“Are you this hostile toward him? Or do you save it all for me?”
“I wouldn’t be hostile at all if you would’ve told me the truth when it happened. I would’ve had two years to get over your marriage falling apart. What kind of daughter gets divorced and doesn’t tell her own parents?”
The kind that doesn’t want to deal with this aggravation—then or now. “It’s not your problem to get over. It’s mine. And you’re making it harder than it needs to be. I could have stayed in Florida and gotten less abuse from Victor.”
“You should’ve stayed in Florida to be with your children.”
“I thought you’d be happy if I moved back to Long Island so you and Daddy could be closer to the boys.”
“Well, where are they?” Sophia asked wild-eyed. “In Florida. With their father. Without their mother. That’s where. How could you think that would make me happy? If you were so concerned about being a good mother, as much as you are with catching up with old friends, you wouldn’t have left your boys behind. And you would’ve been here to take Victor’s call.”
“The boys’ll be traumatized enough by the move. I didn’t want to ruin the end of their school year by taking them out before summer vacation started. Besides I need time to set myself up first before they get here. The three of us can’t live on the couch. Maybe we could’ve squeezed into the spare bedroom, but you already gave that to Bruno.”
“You’re sure setting yourself up all right. For failure,” Sophia mumbled but Joy heard it anyway. “And the only reason Bruno has the spare room is because he got here first. He’s been a godsend, helping your father with the business since the heart attack.”
“I know, I know. I won’t be on the couch forever. Just until I find a place of my own.”
“You think that’ll solve your problems? Having a place of your own? How are you going to juggle working and raising the boys?”
“I’ll figure it out.”
“Sure you will.” Sophia rolled her eyes in doubt.
The last thing Joy needed was her mother’s tongue lashing but it seemed that’s all the woman ever had to offer. Without the strength for combat, she took the harsh words like bullets to the soul, determined more than ever to survive this mess for her boys’ sake.
“Look at you. You’re a disaster. Your eyes are bloodshot. You haven’t even asked why your ex-husband called. Don’t you care?”
“I know why, Mother. We spoke.”
“And?”
“And nothing. He wants to keep the boys. Full-time. Forever.”
“What did you say?”
Joy paused, thinking she should have taken two pills instead of one. “I said I’d think about it.”
“You can’t be serious,” Sophia shrieked.
The volume of the heated debate woke Bruno. He shuffled from his bedroom wrapped in a quilt and plopped onto the couch. “He called again a couple of hours ago when I walked in this morning. I gave him your number.”
“Those are your children. They need a mother.”
“Victor thinks their future stepmother is more suitable for the job than me.”
“That’s ridiculous. Wait until your father finds out. He’ll hit the roof.”
“Why upset Daddy? It’s not gonna happen. I’m not letting him keep my kids forever. I’m just playing my cards right. I’m sure once Felicity gets a long-term dose of my tiny terrors, she’ll be quick to pack them up. Especially if she’s got one on the way.”
“Who’s Felicity?” Bruno asked, stretching out horizontally in Joy’s assigned spot.
“Victor’s fiancée,” Sophia snarled.
“By the way, your father walked your dog. Yesterday afternoon. Last night. And this morning when he went to put in his daily numbers. We aren’t a free dog-sitting service, you know. If you want to stay with us until you find an apartment, that’s one thing. But if you’re going to be out all day and night, maybe you should put it in a kennel.”
“It’s a he. And his name is Rex. Geez, Ma. You act like I wanna be here invading your space. Like I wanted this whole mess. You don’t have to be such a”—Joy held her breath, then belted out—“such a bitch.” There, she said it. And now that she did, she didn’t know what to do between her mother and cousin staring at her with laser eyes and slack jaws. Thank God her father wasn’t here to witness this.
Sophia gasped. “How dare you speak to me like that?” She charged down the hallway then slammed the bedroom door.
Bruno shook his head in solemn disappointment. “Congratulations.”
“For what?”
“For proving you’re the bigger she-devil. You better apologize if you know what’s good for you.”
“Yeah, well…” Joy knew he was right but wasn’t in the frame of mind for conversation, or apologizes, or anything. She wanted to run away.
Is it still considered running away at twenty-nine years old?
She backed out slow, with her purse on her shoulder and the pooch in her arms. Once the front door clicked shut, she sprinted to her car.