Secrets over Sweet Tea (9 page)

She went into her bathroom and began to unload the bags that Tucker had put in there for her. All the chocolate was gone, of course. She’d told him two pieces.

Jackson came and leaned against the door. “When have you seen Elise last? Outside of church, I mean.”

She opened the door of the cherrywood cabinet. Her couponing stash stared back at her—dozens of toothbrushes, tubes of toothpaste, and containers of deodorant, all stacked in neat rows. If World War III ever broke out and they were sequestered in a bomb shelter, at least they would smell good.

“It’s been a while.” She answered her husband as she added another toothbrush to the stash. “Why?”

“Nothing. Just wondering.”

She stopped what she was doing and turned toward Jackson. “Is that why Tim was here? Is he concerned about her?”

“I told him I’d keep his confidence. Just wondering when you’d seen her last.”

She scoured her thoughts. “Quite a while, honey. Honestly. Haven’t heard much from her. Just see her at church.” She didn’t add that she’d check on her. But she would.

“Okay.” He walked over and kissed her on her cheek. “So what did you steal today?”

“Today they paid me three dollars and fifty cents to take eighty-two dollars’ worth of stuff off their hands.”

“If I ever see you diving in a Dumpster, that’s it. I’m outta here.”

“How about a recycling bin?”

He didn’t say a word, just walked from the room. And she left to go get her chocolate back from Tucker.

Grace checked the caller ID of her ringing phone as she pulled into the studio parking lot. It was Tyler. After he left yesterday, he hadn’t come home, still wasn’t home when she left for work. His absences these past two weeks had gotten longer and longer, and he had stopped using physical therapy and working out as an excuse. He had used Jeff a few times, but most times he didn’t even feel the need for an excuse. When she’d asked, he let her know in no uncertain terms that he was a grown man who didn’t need a GPS for a wife.

She sent him to voice mail—a rarity for her, but she just didn’t have it in her to talk to him right now. Not before work. Plus, he should be where normal sane people were at this hour—in bed, asleep. So he could endure for a little while what it felt
like to be ignored. She grabbed her outfit and bag from the backseat and headed into the one place where she could count on every detail being scripted, organized, and timed down to the minute. The tight schedule made her feel safe. She treasured what she could trust.

She punched her code into the keypad by the front door, a security light on the side of the building illuminating the numbers in the still-black morning. When the lock released with a click, she let herself in. Her flip-flops were the only sound in the quiet hallway as she made her way to her small corner office on the second floor. The station was nestled in one of Tennessee’s hills, and she loved the solace of nature her view afforded her, though she wouldn’t actually get to see it until after the newscast. She pulled a pink sweatshirt from her bag and put it on over her white T-shirt. Leo kept it cold enough to hang meat in here, and he was still always sweating. She shivered slightly as she sat behind her desk and turned on the computer, waiting for the world to make its way to her fingertips.

She shifted the orange-and-white picture frame that held a picture of Tyler and her from one of the UT–Vanderbilt games they had gone to. The ceramic felt cool beneath her fingers. She studied her grinning face in the picture. She loved football. Then her eyes moved to Tyler’s face. He showed the camera his professional smile, the one he reserved for things he endured. She wondered if that was how he felt most days in regard to their life together.

Movement at her door caused her to look up. She saw Leo’s stomach first. It was hard to miss because it was always the first thing that entered the room. “Howya doin’ this morning, Grace?”

This wasn’t a normal “Howya doin’.” This was a real ques
tion, a question that seemed to include the possibility that she
wasn’t
doing well.

She pushed the photo aside. “What is it, Leo?”

He fidgeted with the top of his pants, working to fold down the white lining that his belt pushed to the top. “I was waiting for you to call in this morning. To beg me not to run this story.”

She let out a soft laugh, then started pecking on her keyboard. “I don’t have time for games today. I’ve got to work on my script and get ready for the show.”

“You haven’t talked to Tyler this morning?”

She raised her head quickly. “I’m too mad at Tyler to talk to him. And why would you ask me that anyway?”

“Oh, so you know.”

Her forehead scrunched. “Know what?”

He shook his head as if she was making this too difficult. “Have you talked to Tyler at all this morning? In the last two hours?”

She remembered his picture on her caller ID. “No. He tried about five minutes ago, but I didn’t want to get into an argument right before I go on the air.” She pulled her chair closer to her desk. “That does none of us any good.”

Leo shifted in his Reeboks. “Tyler was arrested last night on a DUI. Other networks have already called. They’re running the story.”

Time stood still for her in that moment.

“Grace—” her name came out of Leo’s mouth with a father’s tenderness—“we have no choice. We have to run the story.”

Then time was unleashed. Her thoughts ran wildly. They were like a bunch of first graders running off a school bus, and she didn’t know which one to grab first.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” he said. “I thought for sure you’d know.”

Her hand came up to her mouth. “I can’t believe this. How . . . ?”

He walked toward her desk. “We got word about one this morning. Apparently he was arrested around midnight, and his blood alcohol level was two times the legal limit. Didn’t it worry you when you got up and he wasn’t home?”

“He’s rarely home when I leave.” The vulnerable words came out before she thought about them. She scrambled to explain. “He’s just . . . he has a friend who’s going through a hard time. He’s been spending a lot of time with him.”

Leo scratched the side of his head, where a small remainder of hair resided. “I can’t bury this. It’s going to be covered.”

Her wits came back quickly. She grabbed for her phone. “I’ll call the other producers. This is just common courtesy. Professional etiquette. We wouldn’t do this to them.”

Leo tugged at his belt. “Actually, we have done this to them. We ran the affair of Callista McIntire’s husband last year. You know, Channel 2’s evening anchor. Trust me. We won’t get a pass here.”

Panic surged through her. Her life was about to be exposed, and on television at that. She couldn’t let this happen. “You’ll have to think of something then.” Her throat was so tight her voice came out in a squeak. “Because if this runs on the station I’ve given the last ten years of my life to, I’m quitting.”

His stubby hands rose quickly as if moving them could settle the tremors that had just announced the earthquake. “Now calm down. You’re being irrational. This, this is something I don’t have any control over. Besides, local news isn’t the only thing you have to worry about.”

Fear swallowed her whole. “What do you mean?”

“I mean Tyler is a professional athlete. I’ll be shocked if the major networks don’t run this story, but for sure the sports networks will.”

Her feet were moving before her brain could register all the ways her life was about to change. She grabbed her bag, and her words came out laced with panic. “You heard me, Leo. If you run this story, I’m out of here. And if you won’t try to get the other stations not to run it, I’ll do it myself.”

As she hurried down the hall, he ran after her, his feet thudding heavily. “Grace, you’re in shock. It’s completely understandable. Go talk to Tyler and then get back here, and we’ll work this out. You know I couldn’t stand to lose you.”

Her tone was biting as she grabbed the door handle. “Then make this go away.”

Leo held the door as she started down the stairs. “Have you ever stopped to think that maybe this doesn’t need to go away? That maybe having to deal with the mess he’s made this time might be the best thing that has ever happened to Tyler?”

She turned sharply as she opened the door to the parking lot. “It’s not just Tyler here, Leo. It’s me too.”

She didn’t wait for a response. She ran to her car, climbed in, and immediately dialed Channel 2.

Only after all three competing stations assured her they were definitely running with the story did she call Tyler’s cell. No answer. She called the Williamson County jail next. Tyler had been there. But his bail had been posted three hours ago.

Tears blurred Grace’s vision to such an extreme that she could hardly make out the interstate signs for her exit. The last few
years played through her mind like her family’s old eight-millimeter videos—jerky, silent, but vivid and real. The first time Tyler came home drunk. The angry rants and sullen hangovers. The spending sprees and bad financial decisions. The heartbreaking rejections in bed and the many nights when she wondered if he’d make it home at all. All those near misses with team management and the law.

Each time she had grabbed hold of their lives in a desperate attempt to conceal all that they truly were because she didn’t want their truth to be exposed. She had hurt enough. She hadn’t wanted to hurt that way too.

She pulled in to the garage. There was no sign of the Mercedes. Probably impounded. She had called Tyler’s cell phone ten times since she left the station. He hadn’t answered one of the calls. There was nothing left to do but wait.

The house was as quiet when she entered as it had been when she left. She dropped her keys on the counter in the kitchen and walked toward the bedroom. She found Tyler snoring loudly, reeking of bourbon and smoke and something else—body odor, maybe. Miss Daisy snoozed at his feet.

The sight sent her anger to a new level. Buried fury from deep and dark places rose to the surface with such force that both she and Tyler were caught off guard.

She jerked the duvet off him, causing Miss Daisy to jump down. Then she grabbed Tyler’s arm and pulled with all her might, forcing his body to the floor. He jolted upright. “What the—?”

Every blood vessel in her face felt as if it would explode. “You’re sleeping? The whole city of Nashville—maybe the whole country—is about to know you’re a drunk, and you’re sleeping? Have you lost your mind?”

Tyler squinted at her through bloodshot eyes. “Leave me alone.” He yanked the duvet from her hand and climbed back into bed.

Grace had nothing left to lose. And there was everything to say. “You will get out of that bed and face me. You are about to make a public spectacle of us, and there is no way you’re going to crawl into that bed and act as if nothing has happened. I am through acting as if nothing has happened!”

He flung the duvet off his shirtless body. “What do you want from me, Grace?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Her arms flew up in the air. “What do I want from you? I want you to be a man, Tyler. I want you to own your stuff. I want you to get help—real help.” Her voice betrayed her as it broke. “I’d do anything—
anything
—if you were just willing. I’d walk with you anywhere to get you the help you need and to fix this marriage. Because we’re broken. Can’t you see that? Can’t you see how broken we are?”

He looked at her without expression, a far cry from yesterday’s explosion. “I’m not seeing another counselor, and I’m not going to spend my life with you dictating it. If you don’t like it, you can get out. I’ve told you before that our marriage was a mistake. Maybe now you will believe me.”

His words cut through her with the precision of a chain saw, leaving a wound gaping and beyond repair. The air rushed from the room.

She had no words to reply to that. He had lied his way through separation, counseling, and rehab, but now there was a resolve in him. He wasn’t lying now, and the truth was enough to break her heart.

She fled the room and climbed the stairs to the guest
bedroom. Her body fell across the bed, and she made no attempt to quiet her wails. If he couldn’t hear them, it was because his heart was stone.

As silence finally came over her and the heaving stopped, Grace remembered her prayer from the day before. She now knew she had her answer. Her release. All the years she had fought to survive, had prayed for healing, had brought her to this one moment. The line was clear in her soul, the shift deliberate and sure.

This was the end. She had given ten years of her life to a broken, childless, pretend relationship, and she had no intention of giving anything more. Not as long as things remained the way they were.

If their marriage had to end for him to be whole, if Tyler’s rescuer had to be removed for him to figure out how to become a man, then that was what she would do. It was now Tyler’s time to rescue himself.