A Life More Complete(93)
Thinking about my father’s words made me question my methods and my relationship altogether. Was that what we were doing? Were we fighting for love or were we just fighting? I know in the beginning, each time Tyler and I got back together things were perfect. It’s nice to feel loved and wanted. There’s something to be said for that. It can make the negative appear invisible. It takes over and nothing else matters. It can make you do stupid things, make you choose blindly and make you irrational. Love, it’s like a flask full of peach schnapps when you’re seventeen, ruthless and unkind yet so wonderfully delicious. I’m not even sure at this point either one of us knows what we are fighting for and even more, is it worth it?
I climb in the car and back out of the driveway. Tyler doesn’t chase me and part of me is devastated. I’d guess the part that is still craving a normal family and a loving husband and the other part of me doesn’t care in the least. Unfortunately, the L.A traffic gives me too much time to dwell on our most recent argument and I am now left feeling guilty. By the time I arrive at the hotel and check in, I’m overcome with guilt. The urge to call Tyler is beyond words as I slide the key into the door and dump my suitcase in the entryway. I pull my phone from my purse and call him.
“I knew you’d call,” he says, but it’s not condescending. I can hear a small amount of happiness in his voice.
“I knew you’d answer on the first ring,” I reply back. “I’m sorry.”
“I know you are and I’ve already told you I am too. This is who we are. We’re never going to change. We try each other’s patience, we know what makes the other angry and we do it because we can.”
“I don’t want to do it anymore. I want us to be normal.”
Someone knocks on the door to my room. I smile knowing it’s him. Opening the door he pulls me into his arms and I give in immediately. I’m hoping this is the moment when Tyler comes to his senses. I want this to work so badly.
“Can I stay with you tonight?” he asks already slipping off his shoes.
I fall asleep in Tyler’s arms, his hand resting on my stomach, but when I board the plane the next morning I’m alone.
---Chapter 29---
My sisters and I are standing in my mother’s kitchen. Why? I don’t know. We could have stayed anywhere, yet we came here. It’s like a time warp. I feel like I’ve been transported back to 1996, nothing has changed. My mother’s house is a 1927 Sears home built in the historic downtown area of Naperville. She bought it from the original owners back in 1986. It was the Puritan model, straight from the catalog. I know this only because the former owners left the catalog page from Sears in a frame hanging on the wall of the living room. It still remains. It’s a beautiful home, meticulously maintained and charming just like all the other houses in the neighborhood. White washed wood siding with gray shutters and a white picket fence. A pergola covered with ivy gracing the driveway with its homey feel. Its outward appearance has always given the illusion of happiness. Gia’s parents house shares a backyard with the side yard of my mother’s house. This is how I met Gia. The summer we moved into the house Gia was in her backyard playing, the entire time taking in the moving trucks, and watching as my sisters and me mill around in the yard. Finally she called out to us, asking our ages and when I told her I was eight, she seemed thrilled. “There are only boys in the neighborhood, including my brother Christopher,” she informed me and with that we became best friends. Life was so much simpler then. We’d run through the yards, back and forth to each other’s houses, laughing and playing until dark.
My sisters are both staring at me when I finally explain why Tyler is not in attendance. Their mouths slightly ajar, the look in their eyes telling of what’s to come next.
Maizey asks, “So he’s coming later then, right?” She’s trying to play dumb, but it just comes across as passive aggressive. Fitting since I know precisely where she learned this move. My mother had perfected it, possibly while standing in the exact same location.
“No. I already told you, he has to work,” I say reaching for the extra key we’d swiped from its hiding spot to allow us access to the house, since our mother is still at work. Some things never change and luckily she still kept a key to the house taped under a shelf in the garage, in addition to never locking the door to the garage, I was able to find the key and let us all in.
“So, he’s not coming at all?” Rachel reiterates Maizey’s original question with the look of repulsion in her eyes.