The Solitude of Passion (53 page)

I pluck off the lid and take a sniff.

“Bingo.” It’s filled to the brim with dehydrated crap—nothing but the best. “He’s such an idiot. He doesn’t even bother to hide this shit.” There’s a small plastic bag near the bottom with a few fat rolls inside. I hand one to Mitch and grab a lighter off the ledge.

We settle in a pile of old blankets on the floor. I don’t want to think about Mitch or Townsend or the testicular history this crumpled up blanket beneath us might have met up with. I just want to numb myself from the world—from Lee.

We don’t say anything. The haze breaks through the window as the stars wink down at us.

“I never hated you, Mitch.” The entire room fills with a veil of Hudson’s illegal dealings as we choke and toke ourselves into a mind-numbing nirvana. We’re entranced by the soft swirl, the slow lethargic circles that evaporate to nothing.

“You hated me a little,” he says it low as if he didn’t mean to.

“A little.” It’s easy to admit it here in the dark, with the noxious fumes hacking away at our brain cells.

“I never hated you either,” he says. “I lied to myself, and said I did—believed it too. If I didn’t want Lee, I wouldn’t have cared if the two of you got together—hell, I would’ve rooted you on. I knew it was you or me, though—and I needed it to be me.”

“So you have balls after all,” I say. “You hide them well.”

“I do what I can.” He takes a long, slow hit and seals it in his lungs, expiring it into a white tornado aimed at the ceiling.

“You’re a control freak, you know that, Mitch?”

“I know—and the funny thing is, the more I tried to hold onto things, the further they slipped away. I think, right now, I just need to close a few wounds. Come back as a new man—one that doesn’t try to navigate other people’s emotions.”

“You did a great job of navigating Lee’s emotions tonight.”

He pulls a bleaks smile and shakes his head before taking another hit. Somehow I believe he’s not doing this to sway her.

“So you’re really going back there?”

“Bought my ticket this afternoon. I leave six in the morning, day after next.”

“I’d go with you, but I’m too busy pulling your company’s ass out of the shitter.”

“Mmm.” A pale fog evaporates from his lips. “Colt’s going. And, thanks by the way. I’d do the same if the roles were reversed.”

“You’d gladly steal Lee?”

“I’ve done it before.”

“Yes, you did.” At least he’s honest. “It’s more complicated now, though. Kids and stuff.”

“We’re going to be dads together.”

“Yup. Joined at the hip for life. I’m sure you’re loving it.”

“No, it’s good. I like being connected to you. I think of you as a brother. Used to anyway.”

I take in a smooth, long drag—hold my breath until my lungs burn, then blow it from my lips like a white-hot tornado.

“That’s good,” I whisper. “I’m not through with Lee, though. I plan on several affairs. She can’t resist me. Always know when you can’t find her, I’m off somewhere entertaining her with my body.” I nod into this reality as though it were the most banal thing in the world.

“Perfect.” He tosses his joint on the floor and stomps out the glowing ember.

“She tell you she’s pregnant?” I ask.

“Nope. She tell you?”

“I don’t know.” I’ve been on information overload these past few weeks. I can’t keep it straight anymore. “You got any money stashed away?” I doubt it, but I’m hopeful.

“Nothing, why?”

“We’re broke. I put another lien on the house, but I still can’t scrounge enough cash to pay the bills. You might come back from China with nothing, Mitch.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“So if this whole wine thing doesn’t pan out, you want to go into construction?”

“Are you kidding?” He’s finally absorbing what I’ve been trying to tell him.

“No, I’m not kidding. I’d like to send our kids to college one day, buy them new clothes once in a while, and keep a roof over their heads. Food might be necessary now and again.”

“You and me?” A laugh gets stifled in his throat. “What about Colt and Hudson?”

“Maybe Colt. I’m pretty sure Hudson’s got room and board covered for the next ten to twenty years.”

“You turning him in?”

“Hell, yes, I’m turning him in.” I don’t bother telling him about the mass pilfering of the company’s bank account. I feel like an idiot for having trusted him in the first place.

“You think he’ll get a refund, now that I’m alive?”

“Nah, he’s probably onto plan B. If I were you, I’d watch your back.”

He nods. “It’s always nice to be wanted.”

“Yeah, well, tell me how it feels sometime.”

“It feels insane. The best part is knowing that there’s a plan in all this—a purpose.”

“Is that why you’re still here?”

“Without a doubt. You’ve got one, too.”

“Oh, I know it,” I say, rolling a blanket into a pillow. “It involves misery and humiliation, breaking my back in thankless Townsend field. In fact, I think I’ll rename the damn place just that, hang a giant sign out front for everyone to see.”

“I want it all back, Max.”

“All yours.” I slap my hands together, wiping them clean. “Get back in one piece, and I’ll sign anything you want. Just get my name off it.”

“Shepherd going to be okay?”

“No, Mitch. You managed to drown out whatever profit I was making a long time ago. It feels like I’m serving penance for what my mother did.”

“She wasn’t alone. My father had his hand in it.”

I look over at him. “It was some other body part, but I appreciate the olive branch.”

Mitch closes his eyes. We laugh until nothing but our voices linger in the air. I fall asleep and dream strange dreams. Mitch and I are young again. It’s the night of the party, and this time we decide not to go.

Lee

Max never came home. I take the kids to school and pretend it’s just another ordinary day, not some hellish rendition of my worst nightmare, the last day Stella might see her father again. I apprise Kat of the situation over lunch. She looks amused while consuming mass quantities of fries drenched in every available condiment until her food swims in a dull orange mess.

“You want some?” She pushes her plate into me, and my stomach does a revolution.

“I should be with Mitch,” I say it like it’s a chore of gargantuan proportion. “I can’t, though. I don’t know how I’m going to survive this.”

“Wish I could be there.” She shovels fries in by the forkful.

“Max and I are going after we pick up the kids. He said he was with Mitch all night, wouldn’t say where.”

“Mitch still alive?”

“Not sure I care at this point.”

“
Lee
. You know where he’s going, that’s bad juju.”

“I don’t believe in juju, Kat.” I sharpen my eyes at her. “I think Mitch is insane. I’m not even sure I should have left Max. I thought about what he said all night long—about Mitch manipulating me. What if he was right, and this is all a ploy to get me to hurry up and take a sledge hammer to my marriage?”

“It worked didn’t it?”

“Indeed.” I run my finger over the rim of my glass, mesmerized by how fast I can travel in one uncomplicated circle. I’ve been spinning in one dizzying circle ever since Mitch came home, and now he’s leaving again. I let my finger nosedive into the glass—let it sit there until it goes numb from the ice and burns.

“Neat,” Kat says, slurping down her malt. “You got any other tricks, or you saving them for the asylum?”

“Just the one.” I pluck my finger out and warm it in my mouth. “I can’t let him go, Kat. Tell me how to stop him.”

“Lock him up.”

I nod over at her, actually considering this. “He’s stubborn, though. He’s not the old Mitch I knew. This is the new, unimproved version.”

“Maybe you can stir up some trouble?”

“Like?”

“Fake an illness. Or get lost and have them look for you.”

“And worry the kids? No thanks. I’m just going to have to let him go.” I can’t believe the words that just sailed from my lips.

“He’s coming back, Lee. He did before.”

“It took five years.” I blink into the tears. “I won’t take him back if he leaves me.”

“You don’t mean it.” She fills her mouth with fries.

“I wish I did.”

I sit and watch Kat consume food at an alarming pace, not to mention two whole shakes, mine and hers. She’s not afraid of carbs or calories or cholesterol, and I envy her for that. I envy her for her one husband, her three children all at one time. I’ve always admired her carefree attitude toward life, and, now, I wish I could trade places with her.

“I’d give anything to be you,” I say, looking past her at the crowd blooming on the street. “So normal.”

“Boring?”

“So phenomenally boring.”

“Picture Daddy is going on a short trip,” I say to Stella and Eli as we drive through town. “We’re going to wish him good luck at Grandma Janice’s.”

Max and I shuttle the kids through Mono. Everything feels tragic—final as a funeral.

Stella gasps at the idea. “Where’s he going?” A rise of fear sounds in her.

“China.” Max shrugs over at me like it was no big deal. “Business.”

“Isn’t that where Picture Daddy died last time?” Her forehead erupts in a series of worry lines.

Max and I exchange glances.

“He’s going to finish up some work, then he’ll be back.” I can’t help but feel like I’ve just lied to my child.

Stella starts in on a slow sob that builds to a piercing crescendo. Max carries her into the house that way and lets Mitch get an earful before anyone says a word.

Mitch takes her from him, and I’m surprised she didn’t kick him in his area, or his injury—both would have been nice.

He takes her into the family room and tries soothing her by whispering something into her ear. Stella perks up and nods at whatever he’s filling her head with, then Eli starts in like some delayed reaction, crying for the simple reason Stella is.

“Come on, buddy.” Max scoops him up. “Let’s go raid Grandma’s fridge.”

Stella and Mitch kneel in front of the coffee table together. It’s only then I notice it’s covered with odd sized papers and pens. They busy themselves writing something before he starts folding the sheets into complex geometric shapes. I take a seat on the couch as Max and Eli come back.

“Where’s your mom?” Max asks through a mouthful of cookies.

Mitch looks up before returning his gaze to the task at hand. “She’s busy.”

Figures. He’s either locked her in a closet, or she’s taken off for the evening. I can’t blame her for not wanting to participate in Mitch’s newfound madness.

“And your brother?”

“Saying goodbye to his girlfriend.”

“Uncle Colty’s going?” Stella cocks her head up at him.

“Yup.” Mitch affirms as if it’s a good thing. “You want me to bring you back anything? A doll? Something for you and Eli?”

“I want firecrackers.” Max knocks his elbow into me. “Big, illegal ones.”

Mitch raises his brow. Something about the way Max and Mitch are interacting feels different tonight.

“Here.” Mitch holds up a paper bird and places it in Eli’s tiny hand. Of course, he unwraps it in less than two seconds. Mitch hands a paper rose to Stella. “For you, my love.”

“Should I open it?” Stella who can’t stand seeing a wrapped gift seems to need permission—
want
it from Mitch.

“Can you wait until tomorrow morning? Because if you can, I’ll have two more for you.”

She nods eagerly. “Yes!”

“They’re numbered. Each day I’m gone I left you a special message. And when the roses are all gone, I’ll be on my way back.”

He gets up, stretches his spine, and winces.

Mitch walks us out, gives both Stella and Eli a monster hug with his free arm.

I wait until Max ushers the kids into the car before turning to him. “You’re an asshole, Townsend.” I can hardly get the words out.

Mitch holds back a smile. “You really want those to be the last words you say to me?”

“I’m positive.”

“I’ll be by later. Around midnight,” he whispers with those sad citrine eyes. “Meet me downstairs and say goodbye to me, Lee. I need that.”