A Little Bit of Everything Lost (8 page)

Chapter
Eighteen
November 2004

“Mommy?”

Trey was snuggled into his bed, under his covers and had been in his room for more than an hour. Marnie thought he had been asleep, and was on her way up to bed for the night when she opened the door to check on him one last time.

“You’re still awake honey?”

“I can’t sleep.”

Marnie kicked a clump of clothes out of the way and made her way over to Trey’s bed. The boys had stopped sharing a room when Jeremy turned eight and decided he needed his privacy. So the play room had become Trey’s room.

“What’s the matter sweetie?” Marnie asked as she settled onto Trey’s twin bed, the sheets still a tell-tale sign that he was her little boy, fire trucks and dalmatians spread across them. She touched his cheek to make sure he didn’t have a fever.

He sat up and looked at her with those eyes she loved so much. “Are there going to be any more dead babies?”

Marnie’s heart stopped. Then skipped a beat. She felt the tears begin to well inside but she pleaded with God, with anybody, begged her body to stop the tears from coming. She couldn’t let Trey see her cry. She had cried so much this past summer. Her little boy didn’t need to see his mommy cry anymore. No more. Please. Breathe.
Just stop and breathe for a moment Mar.

“Cuz Jeremy said if we aggribate you, another dead baby might come out of you. And I don’t want that to happen, Mommy.”

Marnie scooped up Trey – who was now sobbing – into her arms and rocked him. “It’s okay honey. None of that was yours or your brother’s fault. It just meant that there was something wrong with the baby and it needed to go to heaven right away to be with God. That’s all. You did nothing wrong. I promise you that. Nobody did anything wrong.”

“Then why do you cry lots?”

“Because it’s just sad. And even though we didn’t get to have the baby here, I still miss the baby.”

“Will it happen again?”

“Oh Trey, I hope not, sweetie. But I really don’t think anything like that will ever happen again.”

“Promise Mommy? I don’t want us to be all that sad. It hurt too much. And then when I got too sad, Jeremy told me to stop because then it would make you more sadder. It’s too much sad in this house.”

“I know honey, I know.”

Marnie rocked Trey while he whimpered and she smoothed his soggy hair away from his face, remembering what he looked like as an infant, wishing time hadn’t gone by so fast, wishing God or whoever hadn’t taken away her last baby, because she so wished she could have been here in this bed with a newborn and her sons Trey and Jeremy. Wishing that things had turned out different, that Stuart wasn’t always traveling for work, and that she had her whole family here all of the time. She wanted her sons, and her husband, and a newborn, she wanted them all together in this house, here in Trey’s bedroom, snuggling and telling nighttime stories before bed.

Marnie’s throat caught at the image of the family she would never have but had always hoped for.

Trey looked at her. “Can I sleep in your bed tonight?”

“Sure sweetie. Grab your pillow and blankie and go hop into my bed. I’ll go peek in on Jeremy and be right there.”

Marnie had tried so hard for the last five months to erase the day in June from her memory, but it was there, in the forefront of her mind, every single day. Her body was a reminder too, but just as it was finally starting to feel semi-normal again, she’d gotten her first period since she lost the baby. When that period came, she wept all weekend, another reminder of the baby she’d lost. Fortunately, Stuart was home, and he was more than sympathetic. Marnie had crawled into bed and stayed there for two days thinking that had she not lost the baby, what their lives might be like now. She would have had a newborn. The addition to their family she had so longed for. And here she was now, assuring her son that there would be no more dead babies, which was true, because after what had happened, Marnie was sure she would never want to get pregnant ever again.

She opened the door to Jeremy’s room, peeked inside, made sure his chest was rising and falling, listened for the sound of his rhythmic breathing. Then she went to her own room, crawled into her bed, and found Trey there waiting, her baby, possibly her last baby ever.

Chapter
Nineteen
August 1988

“You said you’ve never done that before!” Marnie yelled, as Joe focused on the road. He kept his jaw tight and his knuckles clenched on the steering wheel.

“You’re high!” she accused.

After Trina’s lemonade comment, Marnie left the table and stumbled inside to find Joe, who was in the den with people she had never seen. The pungent smell of weed and loud Grateful Dead music clobbered at her senses, and the beers she had had didn’t help her judgment. Somebody coughed, then passed a one-hitter.

“I’m leaving,” Marnie said. Five sets of glazed eyes stared at her.

Joe, his eyes red and glassy too, looked momentarily confused. “Yeah. Okay. We can go.”

Now though, Marnie wondered why she had even gotten into the car with him.

“You know what?” Marnie spat, and she knew her words were slurred, coming slower than she intended because of the beer. “Stop the car. I want to get out.”

Still, nothing from Joe.

Marnie smacked at his right bicep, hard, but not as hard as she wanted to.

“Damn it Mar! I’m trying to drive!”

She crouched over on her side of the car, leaning against the door, afraid of what might happen if she pressed him more.

He exhaled, and it felt to Marnie as if all the air in the car was his, and his alone to use. There was no space for her to breathe. She felt suffocated. She wanted out of that car.

Finally, he spoke, “What I told you was I hadn’t been
that
way with anyone else. There’s a difference.”

“So. The lemons? Is that your signature move?” She hoped her words bit into him. “Did you and Trina… ? What the hell am I to you, anyway?” She kept up, sure she was pissing him off. “What are
we
anyway?”

Joe shook his head. “I shouldn’t have brought you to the party. I didn’t think Trina would be there. Dave told me she wouldn’t be there. It was nothing. She meant nothing. She
is
nothing.”

So many thoughts ran through Marnie’s mind, but she was afraid to say anything, so she waited.

“Look, maybe this… maybe it isn’t a good idea,” he finally said.

“What do you mean?”

“Us.”

She stopped breathing, hearing the low strength in his voice, the threat of how it sounded. Yes, she was angry at him; she had felt ignored, set up, had felt like he left her to deal with some jealous bitch he obviously had been with; but she didn’t want them to end over it.

She didn’t want to get in a fight with him; to have him say forget it, that being together wasn’t good. Maybe this Trina really hadn’t meant anything to him. She so wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt.

His jaw twitched, it looked to Marnie as if he were grinding his teeth; and his knuckles clenched the steering wheel. Marnie sat quietly, grasping the car door, as if that would prevent him from driving recklessly.

When he pulled up to Marnie’s house, she didn’t look at him, but unbuckled her seat belt slowly and reached for her purse between them.

He grabbed onto her arm. “Wait. Don’t go in. There’s no reason for you to be mad at me. I didn’t do anything wrong.”

She shook her arm free from him and looked into his stoned eyes, dry and red-rimmed. He put his hand onto her thigh, moved his hand all over her warm skin. “I’m sorry, Mar. I’m sorry. She’s just such a bitch. Always has been. Forever making my life miserable.”

He moved close to her and pressed himself onto her. She could smell his cologne. She could hear him breathing; practically taste his breath on her neck. When she didn’t pull away, he kissed her, insistent, hard.

In the house, with the foyer lights on, he moved her onto the wooden stairs, pushed up her skirt and took off her underwear. He unzipped quickly, but kept his pants on, and felt his way into the parts of her he already knew so well. He was relentless, and her back hurt as he slammed into her, but she wanted this, she wanted him to want her so much that he couldn’t control himself. That’s what Marnie wanted at that moment. For him to need her. She pulled his body closer to hers, rammed fingernails into his skin, scraping, and pressed so far into him that her breasts flattened against his chest. She grabbed at him, so he could plunge deeper; she helped him to force his way into everything she was.

Because, as scared as she was already, she was more afraid to think of what she would be without him.

Chapter Twenty
November 2004

Marnie was hopeful that the letter would land in Joe’s hands and she would hear from him. After all, it had been fifteen years; people mature, discover who they are and learn from their pasts, or become curious about what has happened with people you’ve once been connected to. She really thought he might be as curious as she had been after all these years.

The card had been read, of that, she was certain. It had been opened, and it had been read by someone. Who had read it, she didn’t know. It had been addressed to Joseph McKinley, Jr. and it had been read. It had been resealed with scotch tape. And in very womanly handwriting, angry handwriting, from the looks of it, scrawled across the front, it said:
Return to Sender, No one by that name at this address.

**

Marnie picked up the returned card and wondered for the first time about what Joe might be like. Did he have a family? He had to have a family. Why hadn’t she ever considered this? She got married, she had children, why wouldn’t he have done the same? Maybe he got married right out of college, perhaps he met someone, maybe a woman in a bar, or at a party, or a work function, fell in love. Maybe he had the perfect marriage? Maybe he had two or three beautiful children. Maybe the card she sent landed in the wrong hands. Maybe his wife read the card? She hadn’t considered that she might have sent the card and caused trouble. She looked at the scrawled
Return to Sender
note again.

She imagined what Joe’
s life might be like. Probably he had some powerful job. He was always so charismatic and charming. She doubted he took over the family bakery or trucking business. That didn’t seem like him. He always seemed bigger than that – that he would make his money his own way, that he would do it some larger-than-life way, maybe create something, find a need and figure out how to get that need fixed. But a need for a higher purpose, doing something good to benefit the world – that would be something Joe would have figured out how to do, despite everything, Marnie was sure of that.

She was also pretty sure that his wife was someone in their community to be respected, not some stay-at-home, bathrobe-wearing talk-show-watching mom. Possibly she was a powerful attorney or a real estate agent who didn’t
need
to work but wanted to work, someone who could have a nanny but chose not to. One of those perfect moms who managed to do it all without the help of anyone, but the kind of woman you couldn’t hate. Because she probably also volunteered for charity organizations. She had to be the type of woman who got the kids up, made breakfast, went to work in perfect Christian Dior accessories and department store makeup counter looks every day and then came home, did homework with the children without complaining, and still prepared a good dinner each night, with a veggie, fruit and a meat. She probably read to them every night before bed too.

And Joe’s children. They probably took piano and violin. The little girl, Marnie imagined, took dance and swim lessons, had perfect curls and was shy but adorably so. Maybe there were two girls. She laughs at the thought of Joe with girls. For a moment, she considered Joe with boys who played on a baseball team. They’d be nothing like her Jeremy and Trey. They’d be proper, and possibly painfully polite. Maybe they took tennis lessons and wore polo shirts and khaki shorts with smart belts and boat shoes. Her own boys would never pick up a tennis racket. Well, that’s not entirely true. They would, if only to hit one another over the head with it. She could picture that.

Marnie had to get these crazy thoughts out of her head. None of it was making any sense. What if the card did get into the wrong hands and his wife had opened it? What if Joe had never spoke of Marnie to his wife and now this card arrived at his home and it’s caused a horrible fight between the two of them? What had Marnie done? But really, what did the card say? That she remembered their one summer together? It was a harmless note really, wasn’t it? Suddenly, Marnie felt a rush of guilt and regret for sending it. She almost wished she hadn’t done it.