Chapter 17: Lost In The Tempest

Captain's Log -

When the keel of a ship is parallel with the horizon, a ship is said to be upon an even keel.  And sailing with a tailwind speeding you on to your destination, clear skies and good weather are tantamount to sailing success.  This is, by all accounts, how every ship would wish to travel.

But I feel like a ship who is verging on capsize, fighting a headwind that continuously blows me off course, my destination no longer clear, my spirit ravaged by a storm that will not cease.

Patty is that storm, and I founder in the onslaught of her tumult.

Gertie once said to me, "A person often meets his destiny on the road he took to avoid it."

I feel that with the on-going fights with Patty that I'm loosing sight of my destiny - If I even have one.  I think sometimes, Gertie must have been wrong.  My destiny was on the Mistral and I was meant to die that day with my fellow men.  But I thwarted that by abandoning ship.  

Although I agreed to let Patty stay until further notice, it has not made our living situation any easier.  It has, I think, compounded it.  

We fight on a nearly day to day basis.  Some fights simple nagging, others more so.  It inevitably leads to me accusing her of abandoning her child, because the moment I get home, Patty leaves me alone with Una.  I don't mind my time with Una, but I do mind that Patty still seems to show no care that I don't have time to myself.

She has also picked up work again.  Our schedules conflict only in the sense that we never see each other.  When I get home from work in the afternoon, Patty heads off to the theater to meet up with the band she manages.  I get passed Una and she goes on her way.  But even on her days off, Patty takes herself out to be with whomever she wants.  

Most days, we pass each other in and out the door with nary a word, mostly speaking looks of mutual discord and the body language that says so much more.

Today, however, upon getting home I was astounded to see that Patty was still in her nightclothes.  It had been weeks since seeing her thus.
"What's wrong, you sick?"
Fighting tears, Patty said ,"Rahul broke up with me,"
I thought for a moment, "Rahul Patel?" I asked out of curiosity.  I had no real sympathy for her.

"You know him?" Patty sniffed, wiping her nose.
"Not really, but I know who you speak of." I answered, "So you're not going out for once?"
Patty's chin rose and she set her shoulders despite her tears.  "Maybe I am.  What's it to you, anyway?"
I bit my tongue on the words I wanted to say.  And sick of the fighting, I turned my back to Patty.  Just looking at her upset me.

"Well aren't you going to say something snarky to me?" Patty asked testily.  "Aren't you going to rub it in how I got what was coming to me?  Well?" Her voice began to rise with each word.
"No Patty, you've apparently told yourself that enough." I replied, took a deep breath to stay calm.  I fought the urge to tell her so much more.  I was tired of living in turmoil with her.  I was tired of fighting and I was tired of her ups and downs - mostly downs.
"No matter," Patty sniffed again, "I'll just bide my time here until Rahul wants me back.  Because he will, you know.  He'll come back." Patty seemed to be trying to convince herself more than me, but that did nothing for my temper.
"Don't count on it, Patty.  I doubt anyone could handle you right now." I scoffed bitterly.
"And what's that supposed to mean?" she demanded, her ire rising.
I whirled on her then, intentions of staying calm completely forgotten.  "You're a walking demolition, Patty!  You've made a mess out of my life and you've made a mess out of your own in the process!"

I threw up my hands, "Why are you still here?  Why don't you just go?  I'm tired of supporting you and your depression and whatever the Hell you've got going on outside of me and Una."
Patty seemed to want to break in and say something but I shushed her, "No, listen Patty.  I'm done!  Just get your stuff and get out.  Go make up with Rahul, invest all your time in your precious music career that you want, neglect your daughter for all I care.  But do it on your own.  I'm not supporting you on it anymore."
Patty's face was flushed.  No doubt, I embarrassed her with my blunt words.  But surely she knew they had been true.  She looked down at her feet, said nothing for a moment, then:
"Fine.  I don't need you anymore.  I'll pack our things once Una wakes up."
"Oohh, no, no, no.  I don't think so, Patty. You're not taking Una away from me.  You'll only use her as bait to get money out of me.  And I can care for Una better than you."
"But I'm her mother, I gave birth to her!" Patty pressed a tight fist to her chest.

I shook my head at Patty.  "You're not getting her." I said simply, confidently.
Patty huffed, "Fine! But don't expect me to pay you money in exchange.  You'll never get a dime out of me!"
I couldn't help but laugh.  I had enough money saved to do all I needed to take care of Una without Patty's help.  And I wouldn't want it even if I needed anyway.  "Oh, please.  You ought to know me enough by now to know that I'd not ask for a penny from you." I gave her a scorning once-over.

"Then it's settled, I'm out of here."
Patty never did wait for Una to wake from her nap.  She packed her things quietly, never disturbing Una's sleep.  When she closed up her suitcase, pulled it off the bed, she never once looked at Una.  Never hesitated to leave the room, never kissed her baby's cheek.
I stood in the doorway of the bedroom, agog at Patty's capacity to shut out emotions.  Had she ever cared for Una?
Patty breezed by me with suitcase in hand.  She never said a word, walked out the door and that was the end.

~Tom Calico