Not Perfect(34)
“Still on the Upper Peninsula,” Tabitha said, “Dealing with that mining strike.”
“All right, so you see what I mean?” Rachel said, like she’d just made her point. “You’re basically a single mom a lot of the time. We could help each other. I could help you more than I do now. It could be like a partnership.”
“Sure,” Tabitha said, even though what she wanted to say was, Can I think about it? Can I figure out where my missing husband is and try to get some cash flow going before I commit to helping take care of a new human being?
“Sure, as in yes, as in, you’ll do it?”
The server placed the appetizers on the table. Tabitha lifted her fork; she couldn’t wait to try that Welsh rarebit with all its mustardy cheese.
“Sure, as in yes, I’ll do it,” Tabitha said, putting down her fork and smiling at Rachel.
“Thank you,” Rachel said. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
When she was almost back at her apartment she checked her phone. No word from the kids. Fern had seemed better that week, so Tabitha had let her Wednesday deadline go by. Thursday was okay, Friday, a little iffy, and then today Fern practically skipped out the door on her way to the water park. The hurting-knee saga just might be behind them. That would be one big relief.
On Facebook, she saw that the football game, which she thought started at noon and would therefore most likely be over, had just started twenty minutes before, at three, so instead of going home, Tabitha walked to the Fox & Hound. Why, she had no idea, except that she didn’t want to be alone. She felt either that she was pretending or there by proxy in pretty much everything she did lately. She’d just spent hours pretending with Rachel—that everything was fine, that she was just busy, that her marriage was not so bad, that she had plenty of money, that she had the time to dedicate to Rachel’s future baby. And talk about not really belonging someplace! The synagogue, for one, where she had no idea what was going on half the time, and now the Michigan games. It was like she was living Stuart’s life, but he wasn’t there to see it, appreciate it, or help her get through it in any way. Maybe not with Rachel, but with everything else.
She worried a little about Levi but imagined that he was completely immersed in the land of whatever video game he and Butch were playing. Knowing him, she wouldn’t hear from him for hours. She thought about texting him, but decided not to. Maybe she’d get lucky, and Butch’s parents would invite him to stay for dinner. Fern was taken care of, at least for the afternoon. Maybe Tabitha could get away with just taking home some of the food from the sports bar and passing it off as a meal, again.
She could see how crowded it was when she walked up. People were everywhere, standing up against the big plate-glass windows, spilling out the door. She knew the Michigan–Penn State game wasn’t the only one going on, but she imagined it would draw the biggest crowd. She walked in, pushing by people who were far younger and far drunker than she’d been in years. Suddenly, she was glad it was so crowded. It was easier to hide this way. She thought of the quote from The Great Gatsby, the one about there being no privacy at small parties, and she wished she had someone to share that thought with.
As soon as she came around the corner, she was overwhelmed by the sea of maize and blue. She stopped and blinked for a second, the place was eerily quiet, but then the crowd erupted in crazy cheers and then, of course, “The Victors.” People were handing around a stack of small papers, each taking one before passing it on. Tabitha took one and read it. It said: “From now on—when Penn State says ‘WE ARE’—I want everyone in the room to mouth, definitely not say out loud, the word shit. They won’t hear it but they will feel it.” Tabitha shook her head—these people were nuts. She doubted anyone would actually do it. But she watched as other people took a paper off the pile, read it and nodded or smiled, or, in some cases, nodded and smiled.
The head of the alumni association chapter climbed onto the table in the middle of the room. His entire face was painted blue, including his ears. His hair was dyed a strange yellow that Tabitha thought nobody would really call maize, more like mustard. He wore a sparkly maize sweater and had blue gloves on with a big block M on each hand. Tabitha wondered if he was okay.
“Wolverines!” he yelled into the crowd. His voice was hoarse. “You are doing an excellent job of keeping the energy up in this room, but I need you to keep it going. We need another touchdown! Can you guys do it?”
“Yes!”
“What did you say?” His voice cracked on the last word, and he put his hand to his throat, then tried again. “What did you say?”
“Yes!”
He pointed his blue-gloved finger into the crowd, moving it slowly from person to person.
“I’m watching you,” he said after a few moments had gone by.
It felt like a threat to Tabitha. Who was this guy? How did someone take on that sort of role? She’d been more and more interested lately in how people got to the place they were in life—how people established their normal, whatever that might be? She spotted the food and walked right over to the buffet. The thing was, she wasn’t hungry. Available food should never go uneaten, but she’d just eaten a huge lunch with Rachel, which she thoroughly enjoyed. Maybe this was a waste of time. She turned away from the bar and saw an arm moving out of the corner of her eye. She followed it and saw Toby waving wildly at her, smiling. She couldn’t believe it, but in all this craziness, he had actually saved her a seat. At least she thought he had. There was an empty seat next to him, decorated the same as last time, and he had his nonwaving hand on it. He pointed to the chair furiously. She couldn’t stop herself from smiling.