Packed and Ready to Go Read online

  Packed And Ready To Go

  Title Page

  Chapter One - Tracy

  Chapter Two – Tracy

  Chapter Three – Walter

  Chapter Four - Tracy

  Chapter Five - Tracy

  Chapter Six - Walter

  Chapter Seven – Walter

  Chapter Eight - Tracy

  Chapter Nine - Tracy

  Chapter Ten – Walter

  Chapter Eleven – Tracy

  Chapter Twelve - Tracy

  Chapter Thirteen – Walter

  Chapter Fourteen - Tracy

  Chapter Fifteen – Tracy

  Chapter Sixteen – Walter

  Chapter Seventeen - Walter

  Chapter Eighteen – Walter

  Chapter Nineteen – Tracy

  Chapter Twenty - Tracy

  Chapter Twenty-One - Walter

  Chapter Twenty-Two - Walter

  Chapter Twenty-Three – Tracy

  Chapter Twenty- Four - Tracy

  Chapter Twenty-Five – Walter

  Chapter Twenty-Six – Tracy

  Chapter Twenty-Seven – Tracy

  Chapter Twenty-Eight – Tracy

  Chapter Twenty-Nine – Walter

  Chapter Thirty – Tracy

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  PACKED AND READY TO GO

  PACKED AND READY TO GO

  Jacki Kelly

  Copyright 2014 by Kelly, Jacki

  Smashwords Edition

  ISBN: 978-1-942202-03-5

  First Edition Electronic December 2014

  Published by Yobachi Publishing, LLC

  This is a book of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead or events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. The reproduction or utilization of this work in any form or in any part by any means electronic, photocopying or other means available now or in the future is forbidden without written permission. For permission please contact YOBACHI PUBLISHING at [email protected].

  For Gregg, Kimberli and Kellen

  The cruelest lies are often told in silence.

  Robert Louis Stevenson

  Chapter One - Tracy

  The day I realized my marriage was in crisis started like any other day. I can look back at it now and see all the fat cracks and gaping holes. Back then, I saw nothing through the haze of busyness.

  Like so many other mornings, the sun rose over our deck, baked off the morning fog. I got to work early, attended every scheduled meeting, and paid just enough attention to grasp the details.

  I stopped at the grocer on the way home to pick up a rack of lamb, baby white potatoes, fresh broccoli and French bread. Walter and I needed a special night. This weekend was going to be different. My sole goal for the evening was to pause our world long enough to remember what he smelled like, tasted like, felt like.

  I pulled into the garage, hurried into the house to set the atmosphere for our special evening I had planned. By the time the delicious smell of garlic, butter and grilled meat filled the house, and the mellow sound of Paul Taylor’s saxophone, I ran upstairs to slip into my shortest, sexiest, silky nightie. Dinner was ready and so was I.

  The snug fit did little to boost my confidence. Dropping twenty-five pounds would make me look like one of those women who always turned Walter’s head. I pulled the teddy over my hips and headed downstairs.

  The wine, the music, the smell of good food all helped to relax the knots in my shoulders.

  Walter promised to be home by seven. I set the oven to warm and curled up on the sofa to wait. And wait.

  By eight o’clock the lamb had dried out, the wine had warmed, my anxiety rose, but I waited some more.

  My entire relationship with Walter wasn’t measured in special events, but in time.

  How long would it take for him to notice me?

  How long would it take him to ask me out?

  How long would it take before he proposed?

  Now I sat at home waiting on him, crippled with fear while our marriage crumbled?

  I swirled the merlot around in the glass. No matter how close it came to the rim, I managed to not spill it. Walter and I must have thought we could do the same thing. We took everything for granted. Even each other.

  At nine o’clock, I ate dinner.

  Alone.

  The flavors lay on my tongue like overprocessed leather. After two mouthfuls, I wrapped the leftovers and tucked them into the refrigerator already stuffed with other meals, I’d cooked that he hadn’t eaten. He’d probably come home and pass out instead of eating.

  The band constricting my heart tightened, trapping my breath in my chest. I didn’t recognize my own life.

  At nine-thirty, I heard Walter’s keys in the door. I forced my anger down before I unfolded my legs, placing my feet on the floor. Running to greet him had ended years ago, just like his morning good-bye kisses and coming home on time to eat dinner with me.

  “Tracy, I’m home.”

  I stayed in the family room, heard him open the oven. I downed the last of the wine before walking into the kitchen with the biggest smile I could muster.

  “Did you cook dinner tonight?”

  “It’s good to see you too, honey. I thought you were coming home on time, tonight.” I parked my butt on the barstool and dropped my chin into my palm, bracing for our nightly tug-of-war.

  “I had to make a stop, Tracy. Right now, I just want to eat and go to bed.” He pulled a plate from the refrigerator and peeled back the aluminum foil. He loosened his tie and placed his jacket on the back of the stool. The creases along the sleeve of his baby blue shirt were still sharp. He looked like he’d dressed just moments ago, instead of early that morning. Walter prided himself on his impeccable sense of taste and style.

  “Why didn’t you keep it warm in the oven?”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were going to be late?”

  He stuck the food into the microwave. Without looking at me, he punched the buttons then poured a glass of wine. His shoulders rose and fell without the audible sigh that usually accompanied his gesture.

  He pressed his hip against the counter, grinning like a child on Christmas Day. “I bought a new car today.”

  His statement didn’t register right away. I was waiting to hear why he was late, and his response to my question shouldn’t have started with something he purchased.

  “What did you say?” I shook my head and tried to focus.

  “That’s right. A new car.”

  I pushed off the stool, made my way to the garage and flipped on the light switch. Next to my car, a shiny, new, top-of-the-line Lexus, gleamed under the harsh fluorescent overhead light. The Lexus laughed at me for not being in on the joke that was my life.

  My trek to the kitchen and back to the stool was a long, long journey.

  I didn’t blink.

  I didn’t swallow.

  I didn’t move.

  I just stared at Walter. Forced myself to breathe in, breathe out.

  Seethe in, seethe out.

  “What were you thinking? Crystal’s graduation and wedding are coming up. You couldn’t have waited a few more weeks?”

  From the way he looked at me, I was the bitch trying to steal his joy. Why couldn’t I just walk over to him, kiss his cheek and forget about it? That’s the wife I wanted to be.

  “I work every day. I don’t need your permission to spend my money.”

  “It’s not about permission. We had an agreement to discuss large purchases. A dishwasher, a blender, hell-even a new sofa-wouldn’t need to be discussed, but a car that costs thirty
-thousand dollars—”

  “It was a lot more than that.” His tone was so casual he could have been discussing the purchase of sweat socks. “And, we struck that deal when we first got married, when money was tight and we had to be careful. But now, I wanted the car. I bought it.”

  My life was slipping through my fingers and I didn’t know how to close my hands around it.

  I nodded. Not in agreement, but with acceptance. I accepted the shift in our marriage, from what I thought was true, to the reality staring across the counter at me.

  Chapter Two – Tracy

  The morning sun streamed through the bedroom window, warming Walter’s empty spot in the king-size bed next to me. His declaration from last night had left me spinning, like he’d abandoned me on a deserted island. The rift between us oozed through the house like a red wine stain, in the things he said and didn’t say.

  Ignoring the signs wasn’t the smartest move, but we’d faced hurdles before. Every married couple did, I reminded myself. Like the other times we’d managed, and we would this time, too.

  The sound of Walter’s heavy footsteps coming up the stairs brought me fully awake. When we were first married he used to bring me coffee in bed. Maybe this morning he’d come bearing a hot steamy mug to make up. I positioned myself on my elbows, hoping to look sexy enough to entice him back into the world where we loved each other.

  “If we’re picking up your parents and getting to the graduation on time, you need to get up.” Walter stood in the doorway, holding a mug in his palm.

  I swung my legs over the edge of the bed. “Is that my coffee?”

  “No. You don’t have time to drink and dress, or we’ll be late.”

  Without commenting, I left him standing there before I could develop my pre-caffeine response. Lucky him. The words forming in my head were as ugly as his behavior.

  Chapter Three – Walter

  Tracy strolled across the room, her slinky nightie rose just enough to catch my interest. Getting out of the bedroom was the best option for us both. Her perky breasts and full hips always stirred my lust. My body jerked to life, every cell warming to the thought, but the idea had trouble scrolled across it.

  There used to be a time when I couldn’t keep my hands off her, but then all the dull, routine stuff got in the way. All the had-to-do’s got in the way of want-to-do. The talk about mortgages, grocery lists, or bills were the staples holding us together. I used to be the focus of her attention, but when Crystal came along, she abandoned me, leaving me with too much time and too much pent-up sexual energy.

  As I reached the base of the stairs I heard Tracy turn on the shower. After a few seconds, I pulled my cell phone from my pocket and dialed.

  “Isn’t the graduation today? I didn’t think I’d hear from you.” Sasha cooed into the phone, instantly making me ache for her.

  “I have a few minutes before we leave and I wanted to hear your voice. I’m expecting the rest of the day will be bogged down in ritual.”

  “If you sneak over here before going I’ll give you plenty to think about.”

  “I bet you will, you always do.” I dropped my voice, before glancing upstairs. “I do have something to talk about with you—”

  “I have something to tell you, too.”

  “I don’t like surprises. Tell me now.” I moved towards my office.

  “Oh no. It can wait. I really miss you, Walt.” She sweetened her voice, like she always did when she wanted to wrap me around her pinkie.

  My resolve to break up with her circled my heart. The idea seemed absurd, but I need to stick with it this time, even if it meant limiting my sexual thrills to no frills. Returning to faithful husband should have made me happy, instead I felt like a man marching towards the guillotine.

  Finding excuses to feed Tracy was exhausting, and Sasha wanted more. I saw it in Sasha’s eyes every time we talked, the way she clung to me when it was time for me to leave, and her unexpected visits to my office. Designer handbags, diamonds, and trips were easy, but time, commitment, and relationships were not.

  Now the threats of major lay-offs at the company meant I’d have to cut back on the money going out. Which meant I couldn’t keep lavishing expensive gifts on Sasha. Which meant my twenty-something exquisite lay would be moving on to someone more age-and-funds appropriate. Which meant I’d have to settle for what I had, at least until everything settled down at work.

  I cupped my hand over the mouthpiece. “I’ll try to stop by before the weekend is over. After the graduation things will settle down.”

  “I’ll be waiting with no panties, just the way you like me.”

  I disconnected the call, entered my office, and dropped into my leather executive chair. I’d tried to resist Sasha. What was supposed to be a routine book purchase from her bookstore had turned into three trips. I knew she was baiting me by playing hard-to-get, but I liked a good old-fashioned cat and mouse game. Especially when the prize was young, single, and undemanding. Giving up Sasha wouldn’t be easy. She was a fun distraction from the routine, a link to my youth. Being with her was like being back in college with fast girls and quick sexual encounters. When sex was just about sex and not about securing a future or paying a mortgage or raising children or grocery lists or where to vacation. With Sasha I didn’t have to pretend to have all the answers because she had so few questions. As long as I satisfied her in bed and brought her a few baubles, she was fulfilled.

  Someone else would eventually take her place, but until then, I could be happy with Tracy. She wasn’t as imaginative in bed as she used to be, but she was always willing. Maybe when I got older, the everyday sameness wouldn’t be so detestable. Tracy seemed to thrive on routine. How she managed to be happy with the dull regimen amazed me. But I’d give it another try. The next time I’d cross my fingers tighter and try harder to keep my dick in my pants. Tracy deserved better.

  Chapter Four - Tracy

  I wanted to be mad at Walter for buying the car and breaking one of our marital canons, but I couldn’t hold on to the anger. Watching our daughter receive her hard earned, expensive degree pushed everything else aside.

  When the ceremony ended, the graduates filed out of the auditorium. I came to my feet and took long strides to catch up to Walter. Once in the aisle, his progress came to a halt. A crush of family and well-wishers inched out of the auditorium, like a slow wave of cold molasses.

  The unhurried egress benefited my parents. They moved like snails. I turned around to find they’d fallen well behind Walter and me. With his long legs and easy gait, Walter pushed towards the fresh air outside. I grabbed his arm.

  “We need to wait for my parents.” I stepped aside to allow the flow towards the exit to continue. A bead of sweat dangled between my breasts. I swiped it away and willed my parents to pick up their pace before I melted.

  “Is everything okay?” I asked when they caught up.

  “We’re fine.” My mother shuffled alongside my father, her lips pulled tighter than a length of thread. “Your dad’s a little slow, that’s all.”

  “Don’t listen to your mother. She likes to make mountains out of a mole hills.”

  “Look at how slow you walkin’. Ain’t nobody making mountains. You can barely keep up.”

  “Frances, I’m fine. What’s your hurry anyway? Go on ahead. I’m right behind you.” My father waved his hand like he was shooing flies.

  “We’ll talk later,” my mother mouthed to me.

  Inches away from the main exit, I felt the promise of less humid air. I used my hand as a fan to dry the perspiration beading on my forehead.

  We stepped outside. The temperature was only marginally better than the auditorium, but at least there was room to move around and the air didn’t feel used. Walter crossed his arms over his chest and glared down at me. His sharp jaw and pronounced cheekbones caught the sun, reminding me how much I loved his fierce good looks.

  “Are we heading home now?” he asked.

  My stomac
h pummeled. The rosy expectations I had for the day vanished like pixie dust.

  “Don’t you want to see Crystal and Max? We need to take some pictures to remember this moment...the whole graduation thing.”

  “Can’t we do that later?”

  Before answering him, I drew a deep breath. His debonair style nor my need to make him happy wouldn’t change my mind about leaving him this time. The car was the nail that bit me in the ass and sealed my decision. I reached for my reservoir of patience, using just enough to get through this moment, because I knew I’d need more before the day was over.

  “It won’t be the same later. I want to capture this moment, not some made-up moment. And after the pictures, we’re taking them to dinner to celebrate.”

  Instead of answering, he sighed and repositioned his arms.

  “We’re going out to dinner,” I said again. “Our daughter just graduated from college. We talked about this a week ago and you agreed.” When he didn’t respond I continued, “Carla and Ursula are coming too.”

  “No! Not the loud mouths. I’ve got to deal with your parents, and now you’re throwing your two friends into the mix. Is Carla bringing that talkative Javier, too?” His eyes followed the lines in my dress down to my shoes. “Besides, I thought you were dieting again?”

  Again.

  He said again.

  And he said it loud enough for everyone within earshot to hear. I sucked in all the air my lungs could hold. His comment was like a sucker punch. My weight was not open for discussion. Not ever. In fact, never. Even if I got tent big.

  My favorite pair of Jimmy Choo shoes and new Ellen Tracy dress didn’t make me look like the svelte girl he married, but I didn’t need his help counting calories or to remind me of the weight loss promises I made and failed to keep.

  “Yes, Carla’s coming, and I’m sure she’s bringing Javier. He’s her husband. And Ursula might bring a friend too.” He looked pained. Ursula was coming alone, but I threw that comment out to rile him.