Separate Vacations: Parallel Lives

It irritated her that almost all were grinning at her, like they got the joke and she hadn't. What in the world was going on?

The speeches were not too long, thank goodness. It was an off year so no one was running for anything. After thanking everyone for attending, the MC made a few announcements, telling how much the fundraiser had brought in, and that 90% was going directly to the charity, thanks to the efforts of Mona Walters and a few others. Mona smiled and waved when the spotlight hit her. Then he spoke again.

"We've got a silent auction going. Some work by local artists, CD's by local singers, all on hand to personalize a message, some sports memorabilia, and lastly the writer B. Davis is going to make his first ever public appearance here in Jacksonville, and sign three hundred copies of his latest book, the megaseller Running Shoes Under The Bed. That's a hundred more than he committed to, but the demand was pretty heavy. They are three hundred apiece, but remember, it's for charity, and he will personalize every book. He's coming out now to make a short speech and take his place at the table. Ladies and gentlemen, B. Davis!"

The applause surprised Tiffany in it's volume and duration. Maybe she needed to read that book. The man strode on stage, resplendent in a suit that had to be Armani or Brooks Brothers, his hair perfect, his black shoes gleaming. When he stepped into the light, she almost fainted. She felt hands in hers on both sides, Kaitlyn's and Mona's. There, on stage, looking as good as she'd ever seen him, was Bruce!

He grinned at the crowd. "Well, the secret is out. B. Davis is none other than local boy Bruce Davis. Many of you know I struggled with my writing for years, until I got some advice and a lot of help from some very good friends. They, and one or two that I will not name, made me the writer I am today. I want to publicly thank them for their faith, and in one or two cases, their lack thereof. It all contributed. I'll be taking my seat soon, and remember, this is for a good cause, so open those wallets and purses. Thank you for coming out tonight."

He stepped back into the shadows, reappearing at the table after the auctions were over. There was already a line.

Tiffany felt like she had fallen down the rabbit hole. It was almost surreal. Kaitlyn was grinning, and she suddenly realized she had known all along, and so had Mona. She turned to Mona. "How long have you known?"

Mona smiled, rubbing the three month bulge of her second child. "From the very beginning. I'm on his team as his publicist. It's been a very difficult job, because he didn't really want publicity. I know a lot of it was him not wanting you to know. He said if you found out and criticized him, it would tear his heart out. All this time, Tiff, and he still can't get over you."

It hit her like a ton of bricks. He had achieved his lifelong dream, and she wasn't beside him. It just wasn't fair. She said as much to Mona, and was shocked when she slapped her face, eyes blazing.

"You want fair? Let me tell you how he became a success. He used your money, bypassing the system, and self publsihing. I want you to think about something. If you hadn't belittled his dream, and invested in it, you might be standing right beside him now, beaming, sharing in the realization of your husband's ambition. He would have been everything you said you wanted from him before the divorce. Instead, you're standing on the sidelines, forced to watch." She reached down, coming up with a copy of his book and slamming it down on the table hard enough to make the glasses dance.

"Now get your ass up and get in line! Let him know that you're finally proud of him. It might mean something to him."

"I'd look a fool! What could I possibly say?"

"How about, congratulations on your success, I'm happy you got your dream? Anything at all, as long as it's positive."

"Come on, Mom. I'll go with you."

She let her daughter pull her up, and walked slowly, feeling like she was going to an execution. Ther must have been some kind of signal because the crowd parted and let her go to the front of the line. Bruce hadn't look up, so he was surprised when she spoke. "Congratulations, Bruce. Seems like with a lot of things in my life, I was wrong about your ability as a writer. I wish you continued success." She held up the book, looking at the cover again." This is about us, isn't it, about what I drove you to?"

He smiled warmly. "You don't know how much that means, coming from you. I see you have a book, please, let me sign it. And yes, the story is about us, more specifically me and how I dealt with our split. Read it Tiff. I was not unkind to you in it."

He scribbled his name and handed it back to her. She felt slighted. "That's it? Your name? I would have thought there would be more."

Bruce grinned. "Look at the dedication, Tiff."

She opened the book to the front. There it was. "This is for Tiffany, with love. Without her none of this would have been possible."

That's when the tears started. Kaitlyn and Lew gently guided her back to her seat. She sobbed for a bit, ignoring the people staring. "I've ruined my life, Mona, along with his. I was an arrogant bitch and karma bit me right in the ass. I hope he finds someone to love, someone who gives him back the joy I stole from him all those years."

Mona leaned in and smiled, her words gentle. "Bitch, don't make me slap you again. He doesn't want anyone else. It's you he wants, and it'll always be you. But you have to change, girl. You have to let him in. Look at me! I betrayed my husband, treated him horribly for a long time, and have been regretting it ever since. He didn't deserve what I did to him. Eventually, though, we found our way back to each other. We found ways to love each other again. If we can do it, anyone who wants it bad enough can do the same. Are you up to it?"

She looked across the hall, watching Bruce share a slow waltz with their daughter. When had he gotten so graceful? She lost sight of him, but determined to make amends, she stood up. Just then Kaitlyn appeared. "He's leaving, Mom. You shook him up pretty bad, and he left."

She looked at her mother, her fifteen year old eyes looking thirty. "Well, are you going to go after him?"

She literally ran across the hall, but it was too late. She found out from Mona he was off on a book signing tour, as well as appearing on some talk shows, and sit in at a few writer's workshops. She cried all the way home while Mona drove. Kaitlyn and Kristen put her to bed, both climbing in and snuggling with her. It gave her enough peace to be able to sleep.

..................

I was getting a little tired of being considered the literary prince of the moment. I was just a guy, a fact I reinforced at every workshop. I had my speech down pat. "I was pretty much a talentless hack for a lot of years, until something very painful happened. It took a few years, but it woke me up. My advice for when you're stuck is to listen. To yourself, and those around you. Everybody's got a tale to tell. And if you have pain, draw on it, own it, exorcize it with your words."

There were a few more writers there, and each made a contribution to the discussion. We were onstage at a small college, the hall filled to the brim with aspiring writers hanging on every word. It was being taped for the local access channel the college ran. Done with the discussion, they opened the floor for questions.

"I have one," said a woman as she walked onstage, carrying a huge handbag. I found out later it had taken a thousand dollars in bribes to get on to the stage. She told them she was my wife and it was my birthday, and she wanted to surprise me. That part, at least, was true. I never in a million years would have expected to see Tiffany on that stage.

She stopped right in front of me. My eyes went wide when I saw her. We were five hundred miles from home. She was dressed immaculately, looking as attractive as I'd ever seen her.

"What are you doing here, Tiffany? Come all this way to belittle my success? Jesus, Tiff, can't you just leave me alone?"

She looked at me, sadness etched on her face. "I will, Bruce, just as soon as I say what I need to say. I needed a few visual aids, to make a few points. I hope you understand."

First to come out of the purse was a brand new pair of pink Nikes. She placed then gently on the floor in front of me. Then she placed some papers, and a small box on the table. Next was a container of charcoal fluid, which she doused on the shoes.

" I know I was fucked up for a lot of years, but the therapy and banishing my mother from my life helped tremendously. I love you, I've always loved only you, and though it might not mean much to you, here I am. I'm yours, if you'll have me. My body, my soul, all my money, everything I have or am. All of it. I'm finally ready to be one. The papers are a complete statement of my assets, the bank account information, all ready for you to sign so we hold them jointly. There's also a prenuptial stating that I have no right to any money you've earned through writing or your ad career. And I sold the house, too many ghosts for both of us. The girls and I will want to express opinions, but wherever you buy and whatever you buy, we'll make it a loving home. I'm asking you in front of all these witnesses to marry me again. Give me another chance, let me be the wife I should have always been."

She shocked everyone by pulling out a grill lighter and a small but deadly looking revolver and laying them on the table. He felt the whole hall suck in a breath. "This pistol is to remind you that we belong to each other. If you ever cheat on me I'll use it to blow your balls off. If I fall or go back to my old ways I want you to put it to my head and pull the trigger. Now, this is just a symbol, but I hope you take it in the spirit it was given."

She was on her knees by then, taking the small box and opening it. Inside were matching bands, intricately carved, small diamonds gleaming. She held them up.

"Bruce Davis, will you be my husband? My equal partner, the true love of my life? Can you find it in your heart to join me as one?"

She lit the shoes, and small flames leaped up. "That's it, baby, no more running shoes. Do you accept my proposal?"

She looked desolate, tears running down her cheeks as she knelt there, eyes full of hope and terror. Her mascara was running, her eyes were red, her hair a little mussed now, but all in all she was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. It took me a few seconds before I was able to speak and I saw the tears start to flow faster. I got down on my knees with her, taking her hands.

"Yes, I accept, except for one small thing. This has to go. As one, remember?"

I tossed the prenuptial on the fire with the shoes, and we remained on our knees, embracing, touching, murmurring our love to each, ready to finally, after all these years, start our lives together as one. The audience had heard the whole exchange, and though they didn't understand it they started clapping and cheering wildly as security ran around with fire extinguishers while one grabbed the pistol. We watched a video of it later, but never heard any of it as we embraced and kissed. Finally, someone helped us to our feet, and she clung to me like I might drift away. I asked for a microphone, and introduced her to the crowd as my wife.

*****

Well guys, there it is. My demon laid to rest. Thanks again to DQS and my friends. You make it worth writing. And as always, thanks for reading.

Q