+ + +
I have to work the day of the concert, so I tell Zebb I’ll meet him at Tam’s school. Tam attends a Catholic school, and the campus takes up three of four corners on Addison Avenue. The concert will be held in the church across from the school building.
As it’s the Monday before Christmas which falls on a weekend this year, my workday felt longer than normal. Getting to Tam’s school, traffic is unbearable, and the church is a swarm of chaos as parents linger outside.
Zebb is waiting for me on the steps before the church entrance where he’s talking to a woman who keeps touching his arm.
With his back to me as I approach, I hear their conversation.
“I was so sorry to miss you the other night. We really need to go out for a drink again.” Her voice is full of seduction and innuendo. Whatever they’ve done in the past, she’d like a repeat.
What hurts is when Zebb replies. “Yeah, I’d like that.” He scratches under his chin, like a nervous tick.
“I heard the Snowball fundraiser raised a ton of money for the organization. We need to celebrate your success.” Her voice lifts, implication thick. She wantssex-cess. Excessive amounts of sex. With Zebb.
“Maybe before the holiday,” Zebb suggests. “I’ll call you.”
I’m already in a crap mood but this is icing on a crumbling Christmas cookie. I’ve had a bad feeling since leaving Zebb’s the other day at four in the morning. At first, I attributed the unease to a late night. I’m not too old at forty, but I’m old enough that an all-nighter before a workday doesn’t work for me anymore.
Then, I saw my mother on Sunday.
In my excitement I told her all about Zebb and how happy I am that we’ve reconnected. I told her about my birthday dinner at his house and even the toy camper he gave me. Yet in all my enthusiasm, she only looked at me with pity. Like I could never have all the happiness I want. Almost as if I didn’t deserve to be happy because she’d never been. She’d been a bitter, selfish woman who left her child in favor of living her life. She didn’t love me. She’d never loved me.
With this thought in mind, my feet are shifting. My brain is telling me to turn around and walk away until I hear my name.
“Eva” echoes over the chatter of people collected outside, soaking up the cold before entering an overstuffed church. Lisa is coming up the walk and before I can move, she’s embracing me.
“I didn’t know you would be here.”
“Zebb invited me.” I hardly recognize my voice. I’m numb because of the exchange I just heard between this woman and Zebb. I’m upset with the recollection of my mother. And I’m cold.
“Hey. I’ve been waiting on you.” Zebb slips an arm around my shoulder and presses a kiss to my temple. I stiffen under his touch.
He just made a date with another woman while I’m here to attend his daughter’s concert.
“Are you cold?” Zebb rubs his hand up and down my arm.
“Yeah.” I’m fucking freezing inside and I’m so angry with myself for thinking Zebb and I were something special.
He leads me into the church, and we find seats which Marnie and Zebb’s mom have saved for us. From our position, we have a clear view of Tam who is sitting with the other kids in her grade. She turns in her seat and frantically waves at us. I offer a little wave in return. Seeing her somehow adds to the growing hole in my heart.
What am I doing here?
“She was so excited you were coming,” Zebb tells me.
“I’m sorry I was late.” Or maybe I was right on time.
Maybe fate, as Zebb called it, had me arrive when I did to open my eyes and see Zebb isn’t going to want to date only me. I look around the church, realizing most of the people are parents. They are couples and families. Zebb was teasing the other day in the store when he said he was shopping for his girlfriend. We weren’t an exclusive duet. I wasn’t part of a family. I was a party of one and I shouldn’t be here.
Thankfully, the principal steps up to welcome the audience and with a fast introduction, the concert begins. From youngest grades to oldest, various classes perform. When it’s Tam’s grade, she turns as she stands to make sure her dad is watching her. With his phone held high, he’s ready. Ready to document her life.
I don’t think my father has a single photo of us together.
My mother certainly doesn’t.
Melancholy washes over me like a heavy, wet blanket. I force a smile through Tam’s performance as Lisa and Marnie comment about how good her class is with their recorders. Zebb chokes on a laugh, disagreeing with their assessments.
Zebb’s mother leans over Lisa and Marnie to speak to Zebb. “There are many moments I’ve missed over the years, but the screechy recorder days are not one of them.”