Martha Mason - Two Rings, One Heart

“Could you possibly tell me Mr. Whitney’s position?”

“Well, Mr. Whitney handles everything. Could I tell him who’s calling?” she asked.

“No, thank you,” Megan said, hanging up. So he had a job. Big deal.

On Monday morning, Megan cheerfully answered the phone. “Meadow Flowers. How can I help you?”

“You could tell me you missed me,” Mitchell said timidly.

“I didn’t know you’d be back so soon,” she replied indifferently.

“I missed you guys,” he admitted anyway. “Would it be possible for me to see the kids tonight?”

“It’s not a good idea for them to be out late on school nights,” she said, trying to put him off. Just hearing his voice, she was tensing up again.

“We’ll go out for pizza and a quick trip to the mall, and be home by seven,” he persisted.

Megan thought of Zack. He’d been waiting all week to see his father. “They get home around 3:45. I’ll leave a note saying you’ll pick them up at four.”

“Would you care to join us?” he asked, then waited through a long silence.

“I have to work late,” she said, and hung up.

With the kids out of the house, Megan again began thinking of the past. Everything had been wonderful the first few years. She and Mitchell had gotten married right out of high school. A couple of years later, Zack had been born. Mitchell was beside her through everything. Mitch would get up with her to feed Zack. Then they would stand by his crib and watch him sleep. If something had been wrong with the relationship, she hadn’t seen it.

Later Mitch wasn’t happy with his job. They saved for him to go to night school, but as soon as he started, one thing or another went wrong. Mitch started going out with some of the guys after work to commiserate over a few beers.

It wasn’t long before Mitchell was missing some of his classes and neglecting to study. He began making careless mistakes at work, then not showing up for work. He didn’t show up for work one time too many. They fired him.

His father put the pressure on him and told him to shape up. Everything was fine for a while. Things were going well, except that he was still meeting the “ol’ buddies” every now and then.

Then without warning, Mitchell’s father died. The two of them had been really close, and Mitchell took his father’s death hard. No longer was the man he loved and respected there to jerk him up short when he needed it.

It was about that time that Mitchell began spending his weekends drinking with “the guys.” Everything started to add up again. Only this time he began pulling into himself and away from his family. But all that was the past. Megan didn’t want to think about it anymore. She went to wash clothes to keep occupied.

She was in her room, reading, when the kids came home. Jess dashed in with a shopping bag in hand and flopped down beside her. “Look what I got!” she exclaimed excitedly, pulling out a pair of dress boots.

Megan had seen them before, when she told Jess they were too expensive and looked too old for her. “You talked your dad into buying them?”

“He thought they were pretty and he didn’t mind getting them for me,” Jess jabbered.

Then Zack came in carrying a shopping bag. He showed his mother two pairs of jeans and a nice sweatshirt. “Dad got some jeans and a shirt. He wanted to buy us something,” he explained in an apologetic tone.

“That was nice of him,” Megan said.

“Mom, he asks about you every time we go out,” Zack said.

“I’ve got homework,” Jess said, obviously bored. She seemed disappointed that her mother hadn’t gotten mad at her dad for buying the boots. Hadn’t made him take them back.

“Mom, you could be a little nicer to him,” Zack pushed.

“Zack, go do your homework!”

“Mom, we used to be so happy. It could be that way again.”

Megan got up. “I need to see if the doors are locked.”

“I locked them when we came in,” said Zack, and continued to badger her. “You always told us everyone deserves a second chance. Why doesn’t that pertain to Dad?”

She stopped short. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. I gave him chance after chance after chance. Face it, Zack, he chose alcohol over us.”

“He was drinking then. He’s not now. He’s changed.”

Megan stared at her son, unmoved.

“Give him another chance. You’d do that for a stranger,” he pointed out.

It was ironic that Zack was defending his father to her. “You just don’t understand, Zack. He broke my trust in him. He just walked away and never even got in touch with me. He broke my heart,” she added.

“But he came back!” he argued.

“Too late.”

“Only because you won’t give him a chance.”

Megan’s mouth gaped opened. It took her a few seconds to pull herself together. “I didn’t leave. He did,” she said quietly.

The next morning Megan was sipping a cup of coffee, when Zack came downstairs.

“I’m sorry about last night,” Zack admitted stiffly.

“I’m glad your dad is back for you. Can’t you accept that and be happy?”

“I still think you two should at least try to be friends. If for no other reason than for Jess and me. We need parents who aren’t at each other’s throats,” he said dryly.

“I’ll think about what you said,” Megan conceded.

“Dad wants us to go out with him for dinner Wednesday night.”

Megan nodded that she heard him, but said nothing.

Wednesday night Megan fixed a snack, turned on the radio to her favorite oldies station, and sat at the kitchen table to do some book work. Right at seven, the children came in.

“Mom, do you mind if Dad and I watch the game here?” Zack asked, his displeasure with her still showing. “If you do, we can go to his place.”

“Here is fine,” Megan answered quickly, knowing Zack was testing her. The last thing she wanted was her son hanging out at Mitchell’s place.

Mitchell had refused to come in until Zack got permission. As they came through the kitchen, Mitchell spoke, Megan nodded.

Later, Megan heard Jess in the family room with them. She shook her head in amazement. Jess put up such a front that she hated Mitchell.

When the game was over, Zack made his exit before Mitchell reached the kitchen. “’Night, Dad,” he said, and dashed up the stairs.

“We’ll do something this weekend,” Mitchell called after him.

Megan grumbled and started erasing frantically.

“Problems?” Mitchell asked.

Megan dropped the pencil and began to rub her temples. “I’ve been at it too long. All the numbers keep coming up wrong,” she confessed.

He peeped over her shoulder. “Maybe I could help?”

Megan knew he was good in math, and she was’ tired. She slid the adding machine over to the next chair.

Mitch ran up the figures twice. Then he rechecked his numbers against hers. “You transposed some numbers,” he said, showing her.

Megan leaned back in the chair. “Numbers never were my thing.”

“I remember.”

She got up. “Want some coffee?”

“Would you mind?” he asked.

“No. I wanted to ask how things were going.” She poured him a cup and added one sugar. When she realized what she had done, she glanced at him, hoping he hadn’t noticed. He was grinning at her. She dumped in another sugar. “So, how are things?” she asked casually, handing him the cup.

“I’m not sure,” he admitted.

Megan propped her head on her hands. “You’re doing okay.”

“How do you know?” he asked, frowning.

She smiled. “Because Jess doesn’t like to watch sports on TV.”

Mitchell looked surprised. “Thanks. I needed to hear that.”