Linda's Legacy

"He did, eventually. At your wedding, in fact. It took him twenty years, and I didn't even deserve it then. I'd been completely unrepentant. I'd told him 'I'm sorry,' any number of times, but it was always about what it cost us. It was always about his hurt feelings, which I clearly believed were his fault. I'd never actually been sorry for my affair. I'm ashamed to say I was proud of it. My pride was the whole point."

"It didn't sound like it was an affair. It was just one night, right?"

"No."

"No?"

Mom looked even more distraught.

"Emma, I'm terrified of being single. I've never done it. I wouldn't know how to exist. I haven't been single for even one full day of my life since I was sixteen. When one relationship was about to end, I always made sure to have another one all set up and ready to go. I could never face the possibility of being alone. Your father was so much smarter about it than I was. He had the wisdom to give himself the time to figure himself out before he got seriously involved with anyone else. I don't know how he managed it."

"I gave Marc my number that first night. We were calling and messaging each other after that. And even though we didn't plan on it, he caught me at another one of his pickup spots two weeks later. It was St. Patrick's day at one of those Irish pubs, and I behaved just as shamefully. When my marriage was hanging in the balance, I kept seeing him, quietly, on and off, even while I was still trying to patch things up with your father. I thought that it didn't have anything to do with my relationship with Jim, and what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. God, I can't even believe it myself. So STUPID. So FOOLISH. I even pretended to break up with Marc. We staged a phone call where I told him to leave me alone and never speak to me again, and I played the recording for Jim. But Marc kept up with me until he was certain my divorce was a done deal. Then he moved on to a new conquest of another married woman. I think her name was Maureen. It didn't matter. I'd already arranged to marry Jeff by then."

"Mom!"

"You need to understand the whole story. This isn't just about your father, and Mark the Asshole, because it goes on and on. Jeff was a good guy, but he was no Jim. I married him because he was there. I might have made it work, if I'd tried, but I didn't. I was committed to raising you and Tommy in the family home. That meant that I was only ever a part-time wife. I'd made up my mind that if Jeff loved me, then he'd accept it. He'd have to accept it. He had no choice, because he was a good guy. If he was a good husband, he'd go along with it. It didn't matter what he thought or how he felt. I was doing what I needed to do, for me. It wasn't supposed to affect our relationship. It was outside of our marriage, and he'd just have to deal with it. It didn't mean I loved him any less, and I wasn't really taking anything away from him. Do you hear me?"

"Mom!" I started to feel dizzy and sick again.

"I'm not finished. After Jeff, there was Danny. I decided that I needed a more open-ended relationship than I had with Jeff, if I was going to spend time away from the marriage. That's what attracted me to him. Danny was all about being open, if you understand what I mean. He was open to having other partners, since I wasn't always around. We weren't 'swingers,' not exactly. He just cheated on me and I turned a blind eye towards it. It was understood. I even accepted it as my penance. And things were fine. Mostly. I didn't love him. Not exactly. Not like that. I did a little, I guess, enough to marry him. Our arrangement lasted a while, but towards the end, when you two weren't so little anymore, I wasn't getting the attention I needed. He was too distracted with his other life. So, I sought that attention elsewhere, more deliberately, this time. I figured that if an 'open' marriage was good enough for him, then it was good enough for me. Surely, he'd cut me the same slack I'd allowed him for the last six or seven years, right? I was getting what I needed, and it wasn't affecting him. Well, no. I miscalculated. I could see the end coming, and that's when I started things with Glen."

"Mother, I don't need to know all this."

"Yes, honey, you do. Don't you see the pattern yet? Glen was a good man. He was the best of my husbands since your father. He tried. I tried. I really did. But I couldn't help myself. I took him for granted. I took too many liberties. I figured he'd forgive me, no matter what I did. Our biggest fight was after your wedding, which I'd spent basically ignoring him. I was too caught up with trying to reconcile with your father... not to get back with him or anything, just to get closure... and Jim had to point out to me that I wasn't attending to my husband. I was treating Glen with complete disregard. Just like I had with him. And Jeff. And Danny."

She was weeping openly. I could only stare at her.

"Emma. I am a selfish, thoughtless bitch. I have always been a selfish, thoughtless bitch. I will probably always be a selfish, thoughtless bitch. That's why I'm married to Doug now. Because at least I won't be able to hurt him. Not like that. I don't have his heart."

At that, she broke down crying again. I put my hand on her shoulder, trying to comfort her.

"And you..." she finally choked out, "You're Just Like Me!"

"Mom!"

"You think you can flounce off to Chicago to, to, serve yourself up to another man, to a, a, hollow, charismatic womanizer like that, while Bradley stays at home with the kids and waits for you to be done getting fucked? Just like I did with Jim? And Danny? You think that WORKS? Because they're GOOD MEN who have no choice but to FORGIVE you? Because you're married, and have a house, and have kids, and they're stuck with you? Because you're ENTITLED to it? Because you need to feel sexy, and free, and you need to have men looking at you in a blue dress and making you feel pretty? And you think you can get away with it? Oh, no, honey. Fuck That. Fuck YOU. You might as well flush your rings down the toilet right now and give Bradley whatever he wants in the divorce."

"I..." That was as far as I got before I felt a wave of nausea rock me back. Then it became a tsunami and I staggered and fell over on my ass. My arms were shaking as I frantically clawed my way to the bathroom and barely made it to the toilet before upending my guts into the bowl. Mom was right with me, holding my hair as I heaved.

"There you go. Let it out. Let all that bad stuff out. You see it now, don't you? You see. I burned my own life down. I've ruined everything, again and again. I never stopped. Don't you dare do the same."

I don't know how it's possible to cry and vomit at the same time, but I did it. My head was as churned-up as my belly: You stupid, stupid, STUPID bitch! Why did you think this was a good idea? What the fuck is wrong with you? How would you feel if he did this to YOU? You fucking saw it coming. Bradley saw it from a mile away, and SO DID EVERYBODY ELSE, you dumb slut. Didn't he say he'd been WARNED about you? You don't deserve your husband. You don't deserve Love. You don't deserve Braelyn and Cayden and your happy home. You don't deserve to be married to anyone. You're going to end up just like your mother. You think like her, you act like her, you even LOOK like her, and you're going down the same goddamn stupid slutty path. You're gonna end up, ALONE, after however many meaningless marriages, in the same kind of Hell.

***

After what felt like nine years of that, mom gave me some mouthwash and made me eat two more cookies. She said the ginger would settle my stomach. She brushed my hair and let me change my clothes. I didn't even have to go into the bag I'd packed. We're the same size, I could wear any of her clothes, so she gave me some comfy sweats and keds. She bundled me in her car and drove me two miles to Tommy and Berniss' house.

"She's all cried out," mom said to my brother as she unloaded me. "She knows what she did now. She got the message. Just put her straight to bed. I'll join you for pancakes whenever she gets up and gets herself together."

"Thanks mom," he said. "I know you want to see Jonathan and the baby, but they're both asleep right now. We take that whenever we can get it."

"I understand. I know how that is." She kissed him. "I love you. I'll see you at a more decent hour."

Tom ushered me inside, straight to the nursery room they weren't using yet. Little Lylah was asleep with her mother in the master bedroom, in a kind of criblike extension they'd installed at the side of their bed. It was adorable.

"I'm not going to lecture you, sis," he said. "I'm sure mom did enough of that. And I know you're going to spend the rest of the night processing everything, whether or not you're able to sleep. I hope you will. There's just one more thing you should know tonight. It's about Bradley."

"What is it? Have you talked to him? Is he all right?"

"He's fine. I haven't talked to him since you left your house. It's just... Okay, I know you know him a lot better than I do. He's your husband, after all. But there's something I'm not sure you've ever seen in him. In a man-to-man kind of way, in a brother-to-brother-in-law sense... I need to tell you that he is a Fighter."

You better listen to this, Emma.

My brother was an Olympic fencer. He works as a combat consultant and choreographer for movies and theater productions. It's a really cool job, yes, and he makes everything look all flashy and spectacular, but he sure as hell knows what a real Bout is like. So when he says "Fighter," it means something. He's showing Respect.

"I mean, he wouldn't know one end of a sword from another. He's not a combatant," he qualified. "I don't even know if he's ever been in a real fight. And he's a halfhearted gamer and strategist, at best. But when it comes to you, and when it comes to his family... The man is a Warrior. He's a fucking Navy Seal. He's Sun Tzu. He's a Juggernaut. There is nothing he would not or could not do to keep you safe and keep the family together. He'll be unstoppable.

"So, the next time that you try to pull something like this... And I really hope there ISN'T a next time... he'll be ready. You'll be outmatched and outmaneuvered. You're not going to win. You don't even stand a chance. He won't be fooled, and you won't get away with jack shit. He will burn down the world before he lets you turn out anything like mom."

God, I hope that's true.

"Okay. Thank you. And hey, Tommy?"

"Yes?"

"Who warned him about me?"

"Dad did. Right before you got married. He got a version of the 'son-in-law talk.' I got a different take on the same thing before I married Bern. Dad has, well, an unfortunately unique perspective on marriage and on human nature. I hate to say it, but we've been ready for a long time, just in case you ever tried to pull a Linda."

"Don't tell daddy. I mean, if he doesn't know. I don't want to hurt him. I didn't do it. It didn't happen. It won't happen now. Thank you for stopping me."

"Anything for you, sis." He leaned down and kissed my forehead. "Next time, stop yourself, first."

I slept like the dead.

***

The next morning was a familiar pandemonium of overstimulated children and lost shoes and unbrushed teeth, just in a different household. Mine had calmed down a bit since our kids weren't toddlers anymore, and I was surprised that I kind of missed it. Berniss is a great mom and a world-class beauty, by the way, with her delicate belgian accent, white-blonde hair, cornflower-blue eyes and tight little gymnast's body. Just seven months after giving birth to their second child, she'd already snapped right back to where she was, but with slightly bigger boobs. Unthinkable. It's a good thing my brother's a warrior, too. He'll be chasing men away from her until she's ninety.

The pancakes were the best I'd ever eaten. Nothing makes food taste better, the sun shine brighter, or all the colors in the world seem more vibrant and beautiful than emotional catharsis and the hope of better days. Mom drove my car to join us at the restaurant. Our conversation was mercifully free from the subjects of Chicago, football, psychology conferences, dancing, Richard Taylor, and Marc LaValliere.

Mom walked me to my car afterwards. She'd get a ride home with them. "I left you a little something in the back," she told me. "It's my blue dress. I don't want it anymore. I'm sure it'll look good on you. I know it went out of style a long time ago, but I think it's come back once or twice. I guess we can call it 'vintage.'" She gave herself a little half-shrug. "You're a grown woman, a beautiful woman. You'll make your own choices. Do what you want with it. Just please try not to do what I did. Don't use it to break your husband's heart. And for god's sake, don't ever let your father see you wearing it. You'd be sure to give him a heart attack."

"I won't, mom. Thank you."

"Have a safe trip home. I love you."

"Love you, too. Thank you. Thanks for everything."

I sent two messages before I put the car in motion.

***

Richard, I'm not coming to Chicago. Cancel the plane tickets. Cancel the room you were planning for me to not use. Cancel my attendance at the conference and see if you can get yourself a refund for the fee. Find yourself some other whore. I recommend choosing an unmarried slut next time. Fuck you for threatening my marriage and family. Fuck you for almost destroying my life. Don't talk to me again in anything other than a professional capacity, and let's try to keep that to a bare minimum. Oh, and for your own safety, try to steer clear of my husband and my brother. They know everything. They saw you coming before you even showed up, and god knows what they'll do if either one of them sees you in person.

***

Bradley, I learned the whole story. Tommy and mom are sending me home to you now. I'm so, so, so sorry about all of this. I'm sorry I made you worry. I'm sorry I gave you cause to doubt me. I'll never even think of doing anything like that again. I'll never take you for granted. I'll never underestimate you. I'll always put you first, and last, and always. Thank you for stopping me before it was too late. Now that I understand the family curse, I promise I'll be the one to stop myself from now on. I love you, so, so much. I always have and always will. You deserve far better from me than the neglect, disrespect, and foolishness I've shown you. I promise you, forever, that I will NEVER pull a Linda.

***

As I started the long drive home, I suddenly knew what I was going to do with mom's blue dress.

I was going to burn the goddamn thing.