Page 77 of Letting Go
With large windows along each wall, the room provides ample sunlight for Marcie Claire's indoor plants. Crisp white walls reflect the light pouring in from the ceiling, made mostly of glass panels. There's a small bar, but everyone knows Clark keeps his best stuff in his den.
We pass a charming built-in bookshelf that I don’t remember being in the room, and I notice another one mirrored across the room. I can’t help but glance over the titles to see what types of books Marcie Claire reads.
“Clark had those shelves put in a few years ago when he got into reading after semi-retiring. I was sick of the piles of books around my house. I don’t understand how he can read as much as he does. To be honest, I find reading rather dull.”
Slightly taken back, I clear my throat before responding, “I can understand and appreciate Mr. Riley’s love for books as an avid reader myself.”
Without missing a beat, Marcie Claire responds, “Oh, of course, that is such a great hobby for you to have, dear! It’s important to find something we love. I would just much rather be out inmy gardens.” I try to hold back my smirk as only Marcie Clarie would gloss over the fact she just insulted the hobby I share with her husband without even attempting an apology.
Marcie Claire sets the tray on the glass top wicker coffee table in front of a couch and two sets of chairs. The furniture is coordinating white wicker with a blue floral print on the cushions. “Your gardens have always been beautiful, ma’am.” I nod toward the hydrangeas that surround the exterior of the sunroom. When those bloom, they surround the room in a symphony of cobalt, sky blue, periwinkle, and ivory flowers; coordinating perfectly with the floral print upholstery. My phone vibrates in my pocket. I quickly glance at the screen and see a text from Walker. Slipping my phone back in my pocket, I don’t open the message but will as soon as I leave here. Marcie Claire assumes I’m smiling about her flowers, but really, it's in response to hearing from Walker.
“Thank you dear, I take great pride in what I’ve cultivated and grown over the years. You know, it requires a great deal of effort. I must plan it all out and sometimes it can take years for my vision to come together. But I’m a patient woman when it comes to waiting to get what I want.” Marcie Claire appears lost to her thoughts as she gazes out the window before turning back to me, slipping on her practiced smile once again.
Sitting across from Marcie Claire, I examine her more closely. To an untrained eye, nothing would look out of place, but I know Marcie Claire and something isn’t right. Typically, her hair is perfectly coiffed, but more than a few strands are out of place, and her ponytail almost looks sloppy, usually considered a cardinal sin by Marcie Claire. While her outfit is almost always perfectly coordinated and picture perfect, today her seersucker blouse and navy slacks are slightly wrinkled, and part of her collar isn’t foldedcorrectly.
“How are you, Marcie Claire?” My concern is genuine and for a moment, she looks surprised by my question. But like before, the slip of her mask is so brief anyone else may have missed it. A quiet voice in my gut tells me that something is wrong, but I can’t place my finger on what’s going on.
“You are such a dear to ask, I’m sure you heard the news.” Taking a deep breath, she looks down at her hands to hide the emotion in her eyes.
“I’m sorry, I haven’t heard anything, is it Frank? Did the transplant fall through?” I set my tea back down on the table and lean over to hand her a tissue from a box on the side table.
“Frank? No, no, he’s fine. His surgery is scheduled, and he should be able to stop dialysis as long as everything goes well. Chase was a perfect match and more than willing to donate a kidney to his uncle. Clark is so relieved, as we all are of course.” Marcie Clarie dabs her eyes, but I don’t sense that they’re happy tears. “I worry about a lot of things, you know? It’s my job as a mother, and I can’t help but do everything I can to protect and help those that I love. You must understand that as a mother, don’t you, Vivian?”
I don’t quite follow where she’s headed with this conversation but a quiver in my stomach increases the feeling that something is wrong. The hair on the back of my neck stands up and I try to keep a neutral face. “I must apologize, I feel like I missed something, ma’am. Did I say or do something to upset you?”
She dabs a few more tears away and waves dismissively at me. “Of course not, dear. You would never do such a thing. I don’t know how to tell you this, and I hate to be the bearer of such disappointing news.” Marcie Clarie takes a dramatic pause and deep breath. “Chase … he proposed to Chloe last night.” Marcie Claire lets a small sob escape. “I’m devastated. But as a mother, I will do whatever is necessary to take care of my family, even when they can’t take care of themselves and I’m forced to save them.”
My eyes slowly scan the room. Did I enter the twilight zone? Marcie Claire’s admission leaves me even more confused. She’s distraught as though someone died because her son proposed to a woman she doesn’t like. The urge to roll my eyes is strong, but I fight it as best as I can. “I know you and Chloe haven’t always seen eye to eye, but if Chase is happy, that’s what matters, right?”
Her eyes bulge as she raises her chin defiantly. “Absolutely not! How can he settle for someone so … so … so beneath him?” Marcie Claire lets the poised mask fall completely and the vindictive woman I know her to be capable of being sits across from me. “I have done everything to make sure my sons have the best in life at every turn. Even when they don’t want to listen to reason, sometimes people need help making the right decision in life or fixing a problem they created. I’m good at that, as you know. There isn’t a problem out there I can’t fix somehow, and I know what’s best for my boys, even if they can’t see it for themselves.”
I feel my phone vibrate again and fight the urge to take it out. Marcie Claire’s eyes look a bit wild, and my gut reaction is to not make any sudden movements. “It’s natural for mothers to want what’s best for their babies.” I intentionally ignore her claims of needing to fix our children’s lives.
“Yes! Exactly, you get it. I knew you would understand. That girl Chloe Jones is not what’s best for Chase, or for our family. Do you remember her parents? Oh my stars, they were an embarrassment to the town. She is no different. That heifer is crass, thoughtless, and uncivilized. Can you imagine her being a Riley? Ha! Over my dead body. It would almost be comical if it wasn’t so sad. Honestly, she does not deserve our name, and most definitely not our Chase.”
My phone buzzes again in my pocket but I don’t move a muscle as Marcie Clarie continues her tirade, “We all know it should’ve been you, dear.” Marcie Claire looks at me as though she’s nottalking like a crazy person. “You must know that in your heart, even if you needed a little help correcting your own mistakes. But I don’t understand why people insist on behaving like fools and waste my generous efforts. I can’t help that I love big and go above and beyond to help people make better decisions. Yet despite all I do, people ignore my efforts, just disrespecting all that I do for them. It doesn’t matter how inconvenient it is for me, but honestly, it’s foolish for people to underestimate my demands.”
Correct mistakes made.
Behaving like fools.
Generous efforts.
My demands.
Inconvenient. Underestimate.
The hairs on my arms stand up as a chill slithers down my entire body. This is too close to be a coincidence; Marcie Claire’s word choices match the verbiage of the anonymous poems Walker and I have been receiving.
“Marcie Claire, I’m not sure what is going on, but Chase and I are friends, that’s all. We were high school sweethearts. I sincerely wish him and Chloe the best.” I try to keep my nerves out of my voice and sound as calm as possible, even though my gut is hollering at me to get out of this room and away from this crazy woman, who is now cackling as if I told her a joke. I have never heard someone cackle like she is, and while she has always been a little scary, for the first time in my life I am genuinely afraid of her.
“No, no, honey I don’t think so. We all know the best would be you and him together. Not that girl Chloe, she isn’t good enough for our Chase, but I can understand. Everyone makes mistakes, and you made yours when you chose that doctor over Chase. But now you can make the right decision. I did what was necessary to give you the rare gift of a second chance to make the right choice.” Marcie Claire calmly picks up and inspects a cookie beforeadding it to her plate. Looking up at me with a smile, she raises her eyebrows as though she just shared a pot roast recipe and didn’t insinuate she may have been involved in my husband’s murder. She slightly leans in toward me before adding in an eerily calm voice, “And I do hate to waste my efforts, dear.”
My stomach lurches and I’m going to be sick. As the pieces come together, my breath is knocked right out of me. This isn’t possible, I must be confused about what I think she’s saying. “I’m sorry, I’m sure I misunderstood what you’re implying here, Marcie Claire.” I don’t think I am misunderstanding anything but accepting this is insanity.
“Darling, you are smart, and honestly a rare beauty, like my prized roses. No, Vivian, I don’t think you misunderstood anything at all.” Marcie Claire tilts her head to the left as she continues, “I will remove any obstacle that stands between one of my sons and their happiness. I’m sure you can understand that’s what any good mother would do.”
Before I can form a coherent reply, I jump as a door slams shut somewhere and a man bellows from the foyer, “Marcie Claire, where are you?”
