Chapter 24
[November]
Tami leaned against her husband on the couch. Eric was enjoying a post-game glass of scotch. Coach Compton had introduced him to the drink and given him a bottle to take home, and now it was his ritual every time he returned from a game. Tami was savoring a glass of wine. She'd half weaned Julie to formula. Tami had decided six months of exclusive breast feeding was enough for her, baby books be damned.
Tami knew her husband was hoping to get laid tonight. He'd started angling for it as soon as he got home. He'd been throwing ridiculous compliments at her like rice at a wedding, even though her hair was rumpled and she was wearing baggy sweats and her face was worn from lack of sleep. Julie still didn't really sleep through the night. Julie had smiled early. She'd laughed early. She'd rolled over early. She'd even sat up early. But that one milestone of sleeping through the night seemed to have inexplicably eluded her.
Tami was starting to doze off against Eric when the phone rang.
"It's after ten," Eric muttered. "Don't answer it."
Yep. He was still hoping to get laid. He was a pessimist in some things, a realist in others, but when it came to sex, he was an eternal optimist. She slipped out from under his arm and went to answer the kitchen phone.
When she came back and sat down, she was in a daze.
"Babe?" he said, setting his glass on the coffee table and putting a hand on her shoulder. "You a'ight?"
"That was my mom. My dad…he died."
"Oh, babe…" He wrapped his arms around her. "I'm so sorry."
"I haven't seen or talked to him in years. I don't know why it should upset me."
He kissed the top of her head. "Of course it upsets you."
She nestled her head under his chin and cried quietly for a while. Then she raised her head and wiped her eyes. "Cirrhosis of the liver," she said. "At only forty-five. Can't say I'm surprised, though."
She looked at his empty scotch glass on the table and then to her own wine glass.
"I'm not your father," he said. "I don't drink too much. And neither do you."
"I know," she said. "But promise me, if I ever do, you'll tell me? If it ever becomes excessive, you'll make me stop? And vice versa - if I ever tell you I think it's time to stop - you will?"
"I promise." He held her close.
She cried softly. When she asked for tissues, he brought them to her. After she was done wiping her nose, she stared at the balled up Kleenex and said, "You know what really bothers me? I'm not really sad that he's dead. I'm sad we never had a real relationship. I mean…not that I ever thought we would, that he'd have some late in life conversion or anything, but…somehow…that possibility being officially off the table…" She shrugged.
"I know," he whispered. "When's the funeral? Do you want to go?"
"Sunday. In Kentucky. That's where his family was from originally, and where he ended up I guess. I'd like to go, just for the closure. But I don't want to go alone."
"I'll go with you of course."
"You have that meeting Sunday afternoon, don't you?"
"I'll reschedule it," he said.
"You have to be at practice early Monday morning. We wouldn't be back by then."
"Coach Compton can run it himself. It's just one practice."
"What about Julie? I don't want to bring a baby to a funeral. And I don't want her flying yet."
"I'll call my parents tonight. I'm sure at least one of them can come and watch her."
"Flights are going to be so expensive last minute like this," she warned him.
He kissed her forehead. "Well, that's what savings is for," he said softly.
"Really?" Eric was desperate to get them into a house closer to his school. The apartment was always having problems – a single toilet that backed up once a week, no hookup for a dishwasher (so everything had to be hand washed), ants that occasionally came out in hordes, and a landlord who was slow to respond to any of it. Eric had refused to touch that growing house savings for anything else. She kissed him and whispered, "Thank you."
"I love you, Tami. I love you, and I'm here."
[*]
The next morning, Tami called Shelley to see if she was coming to the funeral. She knew her mother wasn't, but Shelley might.
"Why would I?" Shelley asked. "I've got a dad right here in Dallas."
"You mean…Antonio?" Tami had never heard Shelley call Antonio dad before. It was bizarre to her. Shelley had already been in high school when their mother had remarried, after all.
"He was at my drill team competition my junior year. He vetted my dates for junior and senior prom. He was at my high school graduation. He paid for my associate's degree. He's far more my dad than that asshole ever was."
"Yeah…okay. I get that. But, don't you want closure?"
"Tami, I closed that door when I was six years old."
[*]
Tami had to explain to everyone at the funeral who she was. She met an aunt and uncle she hadn't seen in nineteen years and several first cousins. She also learned that her father had been sober for two years before he died, too late to save his liver from the damage he'd inflicted with years of seriously heavy drinking.
And then she'd met her half-brother.
"I have a baby brother," Tami said for the third time as they lay in the hotel bed Sunday night.
"Yep," Eric replied for the third time.
"He's only six months older than my own daughter!"
"Yep."
"Maybe he's not even the only one. Maybe my dad's had kids with six different women."
"Seems unlikely," Eric said.
"Did she seem stable to you, the mother? She seemed surprisingly stable to me."
"I think she'll do a'ight by the boy. I don't think you have to worry."
"Do you think my mom knew and didn't tell us?"
"I can't imagine – "
"- I bet she knew and didn't tell us, because she knew I'd try to get in touch with my dad so I could meet my brother. "
"Tami, I think the only reason your mom even learned your father was dead was because he left her his wedding ring in his will."
Tami couldn't believe he hadn't pawned that ring, that he'd kept it all those years. "Why do you think he didn't try to get in touch with me after he finally sobered up?"
"Maybe he did. Maybe he couldn't. Your mom moved to Dallas four years ago. It was the lawyer for the estate that found her."
The estate. She almost laughed. Her father had died with a wedding ring and net worth of $3,500. Still, he'd had that wedding ring for some reason. He'd finally sobered up for some reason. "Do you think my dad had regrets? That he - " She choked and started crying.
He turned on his side and held her. "I really wish I knew the right thing to say right now, Tami. I wish I could take all of your pain on me."
She half laughed through her tears. "Honey, that is the right thing to say."
