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Traci
RANDALL REACHED ACROSS the stack of bills on the kitchen table and gently touched Traci’s hand. She looked up at him and grabbed hold of it, then pressed it against her cheek. She had run out of ideas and they were slowly running out of money. She had hoped that she had at least another year to get everything stabilized. Even with Brad’s help managing the site, she was falling desperately behind on payments for the operating expenses and they were short on time to prepare for the next vacation season. She stood up, walked over to the window and looked out to the alley where a small memorial cross marked the spot where Josh had died.
“You're right. I’ve got to sell Wyman's,” she exhaled the words that she had desperately choked back for so long and lowered her head. She dreaded the decision and the conversation she was now forced to have with him. “Too bad it's not that simple.”
“Why not?”
“Both partners would have to approve of a sale. So, it's a little complicated.”
“Partner? What partner?”
“Ray.”
“Winston?”
“Yes.” She looked into his eyes recognizing the anguish of betrayal that just flooded into their relationship. Of course, she knew that she would have to tell him about the partnership at some point. But it was supposed to be after the outstanding debts had been cleared and she could sell for a profit. After all the work they had put into Wyman’s, she felt like getting Ray to back it financially was the safest bet. But she was wrong. Selling the campgrounds would be disloyal to Josh’s memory but now the look on Randall’s face was so terribly painful. She wondered if they could ever recover from this point.
“Why didn't you tell me?” He stepped over to her, his eyes narrow and jaw tight. “No secrets with us, right?”
“Randall, babe ...”
“No, I can’t right now, Tracinda.” He walked across the room and looked out the back door at Brad hanging patio lights on the newly installed arbor. He turned back to her. “You went behind my back to Winston? And you thought that was okay? I’m not sure I even know you right now.”
“Well, it's not like you haven't kept things from me.” She struck back. If he wasn’t going to listen to her side, that was one thing. But she wasn’t going to stand there and let him make her feel worse.
“What are you talking about?”
“Give me your wallet.” She held out her hand.
Randall pulled his wallet from his back pocket and gave it to her. Traci found the picture tucked inside and held it up to him. “Who is this? Imad. Who is he to you?”
Randall took the photo gently from her fingers and sat down. “A kid I knew,” he said softly still staring at the picture.
“Just some random kid?”
“Yeah.”
“Really?” She folded her arms.
“I was deployed, and he would hang around where we were because ...” he dropped the photo on the table and continued, “because he felt safer near us than with his family. Things were ... treacherous for most of the locals and we kind of looked out for him.” He walked over to the fridge and took out a beer, ignoring her skepticism.
“What happened to him?”
“Tracinda ...” He dropped his shoulders, closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
“Why do you carry his picture around?”
“We were going to bring him along with us to the next town. Stow him away undercover. Then, he could escape to a safer location with better security for his people.” He recounted the events to her. His words flowed in a slow methodical rhythm that revealed that the experience resided in a well-worn path in his memory. “We figured it was no big deal, but I had to go out for another patrol before we headed out of the region. So, I told him to wait and I'd come back and ...”
Suddenly Traci felt horrible and her heart ached. “What happened?” she whispered. She reached for him, then pulled her hand away.
“He didn't want to stay behind. But I told him he'd be okay, just stay out of sight until we got back.” He took a drink and then looked into her eyes. “The next time I saw him, his body was blasted to bits. That’s what happened.” Traci gasped and squeezed her eyes shut. Randall turned his back and sat down. “I carry the picture to remind me how quickly things can change. And how important it is to show up. Be there. Keep your promises.”
“When I first looked at that picture ... his face, I thought it was a picture of Milo. It’s amazing how much they look alike.” Traci said, her eyes welling over.
“Yeah, sometimes when I look at Milo ... it all comes back to me.”
“So you keep Imad’s picture to remember your friendship.” She touched his hand. “I understand.”
“No,” he pulled his hand away, “to remember what can happen when you make a promise like that. When you make it personal. And you let someone depend on you for their life, to keep them safe and you blow it. When I left the service and came back to Keeferton, I swore I would never let that happen again. Then I met you and ...”
“Milo,” she said softly, “and now ...”
“I didn't think I could handle the responsibility of being a father, honestly. Every time I look at R.J. ... it drops in my gut. Some things in your life just haunt you and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
“It wasn't your fault, though.”
“Maybe.”
“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring up something so sad. I just thought you were keeping something from me and ...”
“First of all,” he put down the beer and faced her again. “I'm not keeping anything from you that matters between us. And second, it's not the same. This thing with Winston and you. It's not the same.”
“Babe, he's smart.” She was pleading in her heart with whatever force that had brought Randall to her would preserve them now. If he would just be reasonable and hear her out, maybe this moment would not haunt their lives forever. She continued her case, “He’s brilliant about land and the county codes and all that stuff. I never had to handle any of that before. I didn't know what to do.”
“You didn't know what to do?” He glared at her. “Okay, how about this. When you don't know what to do, here's what you do ... nothing. Do nothing. Then, here's a winner ... talk to your husband about it. By the way, in this scenario, I am the husband. Got that?”
“You don't understand ...”
“No, actually, I think I do understand. You signed a partnership contract with Ray Winston after we agreed that in a few months you would just arrange to sell the place off and wipe your hands of it. Now, you're in deeper than ever before. What a mess, Tracinda. What an absolute mess.” He pounded his fist on the table. “I don't even know what to say to you.”
“Maybe you should let me explain ...”
R.J. let out a cry that sounded through the baby monitor on the kitchen counter.
“Great, I’ll get him.” Randall said and left Traci standing alone. She rushed outside, climbed inside the car and sat behind the wheel crying. Brad walked over, bent down and tapped on the window. She lowered it and wiped her face.
“Hey sis,” he said. "I try to stay outta everybody's way around here. But what's going on with you two?”
"I did something stupid. I was trying to make sure everything would be okay at Wyman's and I didn't talk to Randall about it. I thought I had handled it but now I know it was a big mistake. And, I don't think he’ll ever forgive me for that.”
“Randall? Naw, one thing you gotta know about him, he blows up sometimes, but he'll cool off. Just give him a little space.”
“I'm not sure about that. I just know that I've gotta fix it somehow. I’ll be back.”
“Where you going?”
“To see Ray Winston.”
“Oh, is he in the middle of this?
“Kinda. It’s all my fault though.”
“Wait one sec.” Brad walked over to his rucksack that was hanging on the porch railing and pulled out a small picture frame. He came back to the car and handed it to Traci. “Tell Winston that I always keep my promises. And, give him this.”
Traci’s phone alert popped up with a text from Randall. “Where are you?”
She responded, “I'm just getting some air. Is that okay?” She waited, then looked up at Brad and started crying again. "See? He didn’t answer me.”
“A little space.” He patted her arm. “That’s all.”
“I've gotta go."
