Ty sighed. I forced a laugh that I hoped didn’t sound forced.
“And Tate told me Ty told him you liked your coffee,” Laurie whispered in my ear, surprising me with this news. “So I sent Pop and Jim-Billy to the home store to get you a good coffeemaker so you’d be covered.”
There it was again. Good people. Generosity. Thoughtfulness. Kindness.
I smiled at her and it wasn’t forced but my eyes were again wet.
Her return smile was warm and she gave me a hand squeeze. I knew she saw the wet but thankfully she didn’t mention it.
Presents didn’t herald the end of the party though, night fell and they kept on going. I liked them, they were fun, their vibe was good enough to cut through my worry but I still wanted them to go so I could talk to Ty.
They eventually did but by that time, I was slightly drunk, dead on my feet and Tate, Wood, Bubba and Deke sent their ladyfolk home with others and they moved to the front deck with Ty getting close to me and saying, “Go on up. I’ll be up later,” then not waiting for an answer and following the men.
It was time for a man huddle. I knew a woman never messed with that. And with those men, I knew she never, never messed with it.
So I went on up and fell asleep before he came up.
I woke up with him gone and no note. Mid-morning, my cell rang and it was him saying he had the Charger and was “seein’ to shit” in town and didn’t know when he’d be back. I didn’t get that single word in edgewise before he disconnected.
I spent that day getting used to his house and phoning my girls in Dallas to see how things were progressing.
Ella told me three boxes of stuff were already in the post, shoes and clothes. She was still sorting and would get back to me.
Then I gabbed with Bessie handing her the same story with the same omissions I gave her Mom, skirting pointed questions because Bessie could smell bullshit a mile away and finally steering her into talking about herself, telling her I didn’t want to think of that shit and wanted us just to act normal. I felt shit about doing this. She was my best friend and I never kept anything from her but with the way things were with Ty and me, I didn’t have it in me to go into full disclosure. Bessie gave in but I knew she didn’t like it nor did she buy it. She was worried about me. That made me feel more guilt but I set it aside. I was feeling too much, something had to go and Bess had been through the thick and the thin of it with me. She’d stick through a new thin.
I also called Margot and she told me that she’d talked to the HR Director, a woman who had been there since the doors opened five decades ago (slight exaggeration), a woman who hired me, a woman who supported my four promotions, a woman who talked the CEO into taking a chance on me as head buyer even though I’d been assistant buyer for only a year and a half and never been allowed on a buying trip (the old head buyer was a bitch which was one reason why she was asked, nicely but firmly, to leave) which made me the youngest head buyer in Lowenstein’s history and, last, she was a woman who had no idea about Ronnie or Shift until Margot told her. Therefore she was a woman horrified, not that she’d employed me, but that I’d had to live with that. She was also stunned (in a good way) that I’d never let that leak into my work. And when Margot transferred my call to her she was a woman who told me I was brave, she admired me, she wished me all the luck in the world and she’d be happy to give me a stellar recommendation when it was needed, “You just call, shugah. Me and Lowenstein’s will be there for you.”
After hanging up with her, I realized I’d forgotten that Texan women liked strength, the quieter, the better, Texan women liked survivors and Texan women stuck together.
I should have remembered.
There you go. Thanks to Margot I left a bridge unburned and thanks to Ella I had clothes and shoes coming. Two good things.
When Ty said he didn’t know when he’d return, he meant he was going to return when I was asleep.
And he did.
Then he was gone again when I woke up. No note. No Charger. Another mid-morning phone call.
At my greeting, he said this: “At the garage, Wood took me back on. I start today. Boys are goin’ to Bubba’s after so I’ll be late. Wood knows we just got the Charger right now so he’ll pick me up for work tomorrow so you’ll have wheels. Later.”
Then he disconnected. That was it. He disconnected.
I’d said, “Hey, Ty,” and that was all I said.
And he did, indeed, get home late. I’d tried to stay up but I couldn’t. I wanted to talk to him or maybe, at that point, yell at him and I wanted that bad. Bad enough to stay up as long as I could. But I couldn’t stay up long enough that was how late he stayed out.
And again the next day I woke up and I did it early but no Ty, no note and that morning, no call. No call that afternoon. And no call that evening when five o’clock went to six, six went to seven and seven slid past eight.
And at this point, I was pissed. He was supposed to be a newlywed too. I didn’t know what his business was and maybe he was seeing to it. Any man let out of prison would want to get on with his life, I guessed, so starting a job would be good. I could see that. But disappearing for an entire day? Going out with his buds for drinks after work, drinks that lasted into the wee hours? Not coming home until way late? How did any of that say newlywed?
What the f**k was up with that?
This anger stopped me from calling him because I worried I’d shout at him over the phone and I didn’t want to do that. I didn’t want to do that because if I did, it was easy for him to hang up. When I shouted at him, I wanted it to be hard for him to get away from what I was saying.
At a quarter to nine, he came home in sweaty workout clothes, long shorts, skintight, sleeveless shirt, carrying a workout bag and two plastic grocery bags.
“Yo,” he said to me at my place on the couch watching TV.