The Mother Tracie Deserves Ch. 02

THE EDGE

It hardly seemed possible, but it was true: exactly one year before, I was sliding into the lowest point of my life. Though it felt so much further in the past, I remember all too well the cold gray evening that previous November, how I was wobbling on my high heels as I walked toward the banquet hall.

I had only meant to get a little buzz going, just enough to take the edge off. As proud as I was of Tracie and her volleyball team's winning season, their third in a row, that year I was dreading the award ceremony.

For one thing, I didn't look good. All the other team moms would be there, and other family and friends, and everyone would be dressed up. But I had put on weight, and I hadn't bought any nice clothes in a year or two. I did what I could with what I had, but what I was feeling about myself was the opposite of proud.

The worst part was that my stepdaughter had told me her father would be there. And if having to see my ex-husband wasn't bad enough, he was also supposedly bringing whatever little tramp he was dating at the moment.

"Don't worry, Mom," Tracie had said. "Just sit at different tables. You never have to even talk to him."

That was well and good, but while he was bringing a date, all I was bringing was my aging, drinking-too-much, about-to-lose-my-job sorry self. I hadn't had a date since the divorce. He, on the other hand, had never stopped dating, including, it turned out, while we were married.

I knew Tracie would sit with her teammates, like at all her sports ceremonies before, so that would leave me sitting alone, next to some random team mom who would probably talk my ear off for hours. How was I going to pretend to be happy and fine while my jerk ex and his new little girlfriend shot glances at me across the banquet hall?

But in spite of it all, I would be there for my Tracie. She was eighteen then, in her junior year of high school, so times like this were numbered before she'd go off to college and leave me. My own mother had never been there for me when I was growing up, and I always swore I would be a better mother.

I hoped I wasn't too late. I hadn't seen Tracie all day. After school, she went to a teammate's house to get ready for the ceremony, and rode with them to the venue. My daughter didn't spend much time at home anymore. It seemed whenever she could hang out or sleep over at a friend's house, she did. I couldn't blame her. Being around me probably just brought her down.

But Tracie did send me a photo of herself with her friend, all made up and dressed for the event, looking fantastically beautiful. With it came the text, "5:30 don't be late! Be good."

As I walked toward the banquet hall, some late autumn leaves blew across the parking lot. Watching them skitter and tumble put me off my balance, and my walking got a little curvy. Of course, it wasn't the leaves. It was all those little sips of vodka I'd thrown back on the drive to the venue. I had taken a lot more "edge off" than I had meant to. Frankly, I had emptied my flask.

I sucked in a deep breath of the chilly November air to perk myself up. It was time to make an appearance as a good mom. I was hoping I could fake it.

~*~

Inside the banquet hall, my booze-bleary eyes sharpened focus when I saw the bevy of young women walking around in dazzling cocktail and party dresses. Tracie's volleyball teammates were making the most of the event - they appeared to be in competition to show off their athletic teenage bodies. And these were competitive young ladies!

I had watched many of them grow up with Tracie over the years, so I still thought of them as girls. But they had grown into young women now, and were of age to dress however they wanted. Their outfits had gotten shorter, tighter, and more flashy and daring at each year's team ceremony. Now that they were eighteen, nearly done with high school, and didn't need their parents' permission, a few of their mini dresses seemed more appropriate for a Miami nightclub than a family event.

But tonight was their night. It was cute how they hurried around the hall with each other, excited, laughing, taking selfies together.

Ah, to be young and beautiful. Seeing the girls so happy made me smile. But it also made me feel old. It was a full thirty years since I was a pretty teenager like them, running around, giggling with friends. Where did all those years go?

And even when I was their age, we didn't dare dress like they did now. I couldn't get over all the leg, shoulder, and bust these girls were showing. I hoped they would be warm enough, because the banquet hall was kind of chilly. You'd think they could turn the heat on in the place. But the cool air would probably help keep me from nodding off in my seat - if I could find one.

Coming in at the last minute, I found most of the tables were already full. I scanned for a seat somewhere that wouldn't be too embarrassing.

Boom - there he was, my ex-husband, sitting across the room, looking right at me. I swallowed back on the urge to throw up. And of course, there was his young cutie with him, looking twenty years younger than him - not much older than the girls on the team. I tried not to recognize her - I didn't care - but she did look familiar. She probably was one of his employees I'd met before the divorce.

I wanted to call out to her, You're welcome to him! Don't say I didn't warn ya!

I was thinking about walking out, but my mood quickly improved when I heard my favorite voice say, "Mom, you made it."

I swung around to see the most beautiful young woman in the world, my Tracie, walking toward me with a friend. I gasped at how amazing she and the girl with her looked in their stunning little dresses. My stepdaughter's soft smile lit up my heart.

"Oh, there you are!" I said. I opened my arms and took Tracie in a happy hug. "Of course I made it, sweetheart. I'll always make it for you. Let me look at you. Oh my god. You look like a dream, honey. Your hair! Absolutely gorgeous. And you too..." I couldn't remember the other girl's name.

"Mackenzie," the girl said. She smiled with a chuckle and pushed her hair back over her shoulders. I'd known Mackenzie McClintock as Tracie's teammate for years, and should have remembered her name, but the vodka had taken off more than an edge.

"Yes of course, Mackenzie, I know your name. Let me get a picture of you two beauties. Look at you, all grown up and so gorgeous."

As I fished my phone out of my purse, I fumbled and dropped it. "Oh shoot!"

When I bent over to pick it up, I got so woozy I started tipping over.

Tracie grabbed me to keep me from falling. "Oh my god, Mom." She steadied me on my feet.

Mackenzie knelt down to pick up my phone. I accidentally got a good look down her dress. She looked up at me and stood slowly, as if she wanted me to see her bosom.

"Oh, thank you," I said, trying to act more sober. "Here, let me get that pic of you. So beautiful..." I fiddled around on my phone in confusion, unable to get the camera working.

Finally, with a huff, Tracie grabbed my phone. "What's wrong, Mom?" In two seconds, she had the camera running. "There. Now take the picture."

"Oh thank you, baby. Stand together, you two. Gorgeous. Ready? One, two, three!" I took a picture, but it was all blurry. "Oh, let me try again."

"Forget it, Mom. We need to find you a seat. They're starting in a few minutes."

"Oh, okay..." It took me three tries to get my phone back into my purse. Tracie's friend snickered. I said, "To heck with pictures, anyway, right? But at least let me just feast my eyes on you in the here and now."

Tracie rolled her eyes. Mackenzie, who was shorter, stood up as tall as she could, pressing out her bust and smiling flirtatiously.

I stroked my stepdaughter's arm and said, "You two look amazing. My goodness. Makes me wish I was a teenage boy."

Mackenzie looked at Tracie. My daughter's mouth fell open.

"Um, okay, Mom. That's a little... weird."

Her friend stifled a laugh.

I said, "What did I say? No, I'm just saying you look good. All you girls look beautiful tonight. Mackenzie, I love that color on you."

"Thanks," she said, looking amused. She turned her shoulders side to side.

"Fits you so well," I added.

Tracie took my arm and walked me away from her friend. "My god, Mom, what are you doing?"

"What?" I said.

"You were totally staring at Mackenzie's boobs."

"What? No! Honey, that's disgusting. Oh my god, no. Why would I be staring at- she was showing me her dress. She has nice skin like you, doesn't she?"

"Whatever," Tracie sighed. She walked me toward the tables and said, "By the way, Mackenzie's mom is nagging me to get you to pay the boosters' club fee tonight. It's way overdue. Can you pay her tonight? She said she can take a check, card, cash, payment app, or whatever."

She looked expectantly at me. I tried to focus enough to make an intelligent response. "Oh yeah, the fee... So, how much is the fee?"

"A hundred and twenty-five dollars."

"Ooh, yeah... okay... Um..."

Tracie rolled her eyes. "Never mind. I know we're always broke. Did you, um, see Dad?"

"Yes, I saw him," I said, trying not to sound too hateful. "And his little girlfriend. I'm fine."

"Okay. So... I'll ask him tonight if he can help out with the fee."

That angered me. I hated Tracie having to ask her father for anything.

Another one of Tracie's teammates walked by in a revealing dress. She waved with a bright smile, "Hi, Ms. Gasparo."

I couldn't remember this girl's name either, but I was happy to change the subject. I waved back and said, "Hi sweetheart. Look at you, wow. All you girls look beautiful tonight, and so grown-up. I usually see you on the court in your jerseys and those tight little shorts."

Tracie's hand tightened on my arm and she quickly changed our course to a big window, away from other people. "Mom, didn't I ask you not to drink before coming? That's the only thing I asked you to do."

"What? No! I didn't. I'm just tired. And I haven't eaten all day. Hope the food's good."

Tracie gripped my shoulders, making me face her directly. She said, "I can smell it on your breath."

I mumbled, "I just had one sip..."

"Oh my god, do you think I'm an idiot?"

Caught, I just looked at my daughter, wondering how mad she would get.

She said, "Do you love me, Mom?"

"Of course I love you, Tracie. What kind of question-"

"Then just do me a favor. Stop gawking at my teammates and try to act normal, okay?"

I bit my lip, trying to suppress the sadness and shame tightening in my chest. I said, "I'm sorry if I embarrassed you."

"It's not a big deal," she said softly. "I'm glad you're here... Just..."

"Margie!" I said, proud to remember the name of Mackenzie's mother, who was walking up to us. It was hard to forget Margie McClintock. As always, she had on oddball clothes and a short, zero-maintenance haircut that made her look like a ventriloquist's dummy. But she had endless energy for being in charge whenever she could.

"Hello, Lorraine, Tracie. Ladies, I'm going to give the five-minute warning in a moment. Lorraine, did Tracie mention the booster fee? I'm trying to collect all the outstanding balances. It is the end of the season, after all."

"Oh yes," I said, trying to appear as sober as I could. "I, um..."

Tracie said, "I'm going to talk to my father and get you paid tonight."

"Oh wonderful," Margie said, in her phony-friendly way. "Before you know it, the next fee will be due for next season. The big one, senior year. Can you believe it? So let's find our seats, ladies. The program is about it begin."

"Great seeing you, Margie," I lied.

Tracie snuffled a laugh as we watched Margie make her way to the front of the room, nagging more people on her way.

"That woman's so bossy," I said.

"Yeah, but she gets things done," Tracie said. "Come on." She took my hand, and led me more gently this time toward the big round tables filled with team family members. She said, "I asked Emma's parents to keep a seat open for you, next to them."

"Oh, okay. Thank you, honey." I was little wavy on my feet as I followed her, but tried to keep my steps straight. The way my daughter led me around, I felt like a lonely old widow.

There was a single open chair next to Jenny Johnson, who was with her husband Jim. Their daughter Emma had been a friend of Tracie's since elementary school, so I knew them well enough, and liked them. Jenny and Jim seemed to have the kind of happy, stable marriage I'd probably never experience.

Jenny gave me a friendly smile. "Hey Lorraine, sit here." She patted the chair next to her. "I was telling Tracie earlier, she looks incredible."

I acted happy. "Oh thank you! Doesn't she? All these girls-" I cut off my comment to avoid saying something Tracie wouldn't like. "How are you guys?"

"Hungry," Jim said with a smile. "Let's get this buffet going, right?"

Jenny lightly slapped his the arm. "Oh, shut up."

He chuckled and said, "We're all thinking it."

I sat down, noticing the volleyball-themed decorations in the center of the table, surrounded with wrapped chocolates.

A server arrived and filled my water glass. Tracie said, "Could you please get her a large diet cola?"

As the server nodded and walked off, Jim said, "Hey, you guys didn't do your big Halloween party this year, did you?"

I tried to hide my shame. "Oh, no. That was... a little too much this year."

"That's too bad," Jim said. "That was a fun tradition. You always did a nice job."

The server returned and set down a soda.

Tracie slid the glass closer to me. "Drink that, Mom. You need the caffeine."

"Ooh, Tracie," Jenny said. "I love your bracelet!"

Now I knew I was drunk, since I hadn't noticed on my daughter's wrist an impressive silver bracelet I had never seen before.

Tracie said, "Oh, thanks." She fingered it nervously.

"Where did you get that?" I asked, pretty sure of the answer.

"Um, Dad just gave it to me when he got here."

My body temperature heated up twenty-five degrees. "Of course he did," I said. I angrily scooted my chair closer to the table. My ex had been a rotten father and a rotten husband, but he could always come through with money or an expensive gift, to look like a big shot and try to buy his daughter's love. The bracelet was probably his way of celebrating that he had finished paying child support when Tracie turned eighteen the previous spring.

But I held my tongue on that - it wasn't easy. I just said, "It's very pretty, baby. You deserve it."

"Thank you, Mom."

Up at the podium, Margie announced that the pre-dinner program would begin in five minutes.

Tracie said to me, "Okay, I'm going to talk to Dad about the fee real quick, and then I'll be sitting with Emma and the team over in that corner."

I needed to say something that made me feel like a normal, sober, competent mom. I blurted out, "Oh, hey, Tracie, you want to practice driving on the way home tonight? Gotta get in those practice hours to get your license."

"Remember, Mom? I'm not coming home with you. There's the team sleepover at Mackenzie's house afterward, like every year. I can get a ride with her."

"Oh... Right. I remember." I didn't remember that at all until she said it. My mistake was embarrassing, and the thought of going home alone was depressing.

Tracie gave me a quick squeeze, her sequin-covered boob pressing my cheek, then she hurried off to get money from her father. I watched her go. She looked like a cover model for a glamour magazine.

A familiar anger burned in me - but really, it was a sadness that I couldn't give my daughter everything she wanted by myself.

Jenny leaned to me and said, "Did you see Emma?"

"No, where is she?"

She pointed towards her daughter. "She got that dress at a second-hand shop."

"Wow," I said. "She looks stunning."

"Isn't it crazy?" Jenny said. "I swear, just a couple years ago, these girls were little kids, playing in the dirt, sneaking cookies, holding stuffed animals at night. Now I look around and see a bunch of gorgeous young ladies who could probably steal away our husbands from us."

I scoff-snorted bitterly. "Yeah, tell me about it." I looked toward my ex and his young date, seated just a few tables away.

Tracie was standing next to him, and I saw her give her father a kiss on the cheek before she walked toward her own table. Her eyes met mine. She winked at me and gave a discreet thumbs-up, telling me her father would pay the fee. I air-kissed toward her, and she returned the gesture.

I was proud that when my stepdaughter wanted something, she made it happen.

But once she turned her attention to her friends, my other emotions were hard to keep down. I sniffed as I grabbed a piece of the chocolate on the table, yanked off its wrapper, and chewed it angrily.

Jenny put her hand on my arm and gently asked, "You okay?"

"Eh, I don't love seeing my ex here with a date half his age." I had sat next to Jenny at enough volleyball matches to tell her in bits and pieces my whole sob story over the two years since my divorce: how, when I met Tracie's father, he was a single father struggling to get his business off the ground; I, on the other hand, had a good career and plenty of my own money. But I loved his little Tracie so much that when I married him, I chose to be a stay-at-home mother for her. For ten years, I supported that man, raising his daughter like my own. But he was hardly ever around, and never faithful. I'm sure I had griped to Jenny more than once about how my ex had fought me tooth and nail over every penny of alimony and child support ever since.

But why not gripe one more time? I said, "He can throw money and nice jewelry at Tracie at the drop of a hat, but I can't even pay my bills."

I looked up from tearing the chocolate wrapper into shreds on the table. I saw in Jenny's eyes she understood. She rubbed my forearm.

I tried to stay angry at my ex - that was an easier emotion to manage - but a lump of sadness was growing in my throat. It was all the worse that I had embarrassed my daughter by showing up drunk to the ceremony.

Still holding my forearm, Jenny said softly, "But you know what, Lorraine?"

If I had tried to speak, I would have cried. I just looked at her.

She said, "Look at that beautiful young lady over there. Look how strong and successful Tracie is. She's what, only eighteen?"

I nodded.

Jenny said, "Eighteen and ready to take on the world. What an awesome young woman you've raised, Lorraine. It's all because she gets to call you mom. I mean, she chose to live with you, didn't she?"

I nodded and put my hand on top of Jenny's. "Thank you. I needed that."

Mackenzie's mother Margie returned to the podium, turned on the microphone, and started introducing the team's coach.

Tonight wasn't about me or my problems. It was about my gorgeous, smart, sweet, strong daughter. I was glad I took the high road with my comment to Tracie about her new bracelet. I wish I could have stayed on that high road over the winter that followed.