Bridging The Gaps

By Kate Warren

A timeless tale of love, pain, humor, and alcohol...

Ellen Pritchard thinks the world is over now that her husband has left her. If only that were the case. Instead she's forced to confront her fears and find who she is all over again while dealing with troublesome teenagers, an alcoholic son, and a man from her past who just might offer a second chance for both of them if Ellen can find the courage to take it.

With her eldest daughter and a group of unforgettable friends to lean on, Ellen will learn that "that which does not kill us" is life, and love is always worth the risk.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kate Warren
• Release date: Jul 20, 2012
• ISBN: 9780985460631

Kate Warren

Kate Warren is a writer of strange and wonderful things, mainly in the categories of contemporary and historical fiction. Humor and romance are the order of the day for Kate's writing. She makes her home in western Wisconsin, with one husband, four children and a very cute dog.

Book preview

Chapter One

Crash.

Breaking glass punctuated angrily muttered statements as Ellen Pritchard pulled pictures from the walls and threw them in a black plastic garbage bag. Bastard. A family vacation photo was pulled from its perch. Twenty five years of my life. Down came a picture taken at a church fundraiser. Four children.

Ellen moved to the living room. The family portrait from the last Christmas was evicted from its place above the mantel, followed by the official Grand Knight photo from the Knights of Columbus.

She eyed the wedding picture on the other side of the room. Grabbing the fire poker she took a running start and smashed it. It fell, glass side up on the carpet. She beat it mercilessly. Love! Honor! Cherish! She took a breath to steady herself for one last blow and muttered, keep thee only unto, my ass! Stepping on the shards for good measure she headed for the master bedroom, ignoring the doorbell’s insistent chiming.

Doug’s cologne still sat on the dresser. She chucked it into the bag. Then she set the burden on the bed while she pulled suit after suit from the closet, throwing them unceremoniously out the open window.

Ties were flying everywhere when three women stepped into the room. Ellen? Honey, are you okay?

Oh, I’m fine, she called back calmly, Just doing a bit of fall cleaning.

Carefully navigating the various items that had fallen to the floor, Georgia Elliot approached the closet slowly, as if sudden movements might escalate the situation. Just then the door flew open, hitting Georgia in the face.

Oh, oh, Georgie! I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you were back there.

Holding her nose and blinking back tears, she squeaked out, It’s okay.

Maybe some ice? Diane suggested.

Ice! Yes. Let’s just all step into the kitchen.

While Ellen was busy rummaging through her kitchen and Diane helped Georgia to a chair, the fourth woman had time to examine the house a bit more closely. She noted the destroyed wedding picture, Ellen’s red nose; the kitchen counter held an empty pint carton of ice cream. Fudge Mint was always a good choice.

There was no need to ask what was going on—the whole town was aware of Doug Pritchard’s behavior. It had been exactly one week since he’d packed a suitcase with the basics and left his family. After days of weeping and blaming herself, Ellen had finally found the energy to be angry.

Really, Georgia, I can’t tell you how sorry I am. Ellen produced an ice pack.

Oh, shut up! We all know you’re sorry. And she’s not upset, are you Georgia? Without giving her a chance to so much as nod, Jessie continued. You know why we’re here.

You know about Doug? Ellen’s mask of composure slipped.

Ellie…everybody knows. Diane hated her role in the visit, but somebody had to tell her. He’s not exactly hiding it.

Ellen wavered between despair and fury. Fury won out. He’s taking that tramp out around town, is he?

Georgia spoke from behind the ice pack. Not in Troy Falls. You shouldn’t have to run into them. But he sure has made a spectacle of himself.

Is that supposed to make me feel better?

We’re not here to make you feel better. You’ve got to get up and get out and show people what you’re made of. You can’t let that son-of-a-bitch win. For all the years they’d been friends, Jessie’s language still shocked the others. In their experience a preacher’s wife just didn’t talk like that. And you can start by getting out of that butt-ugly robe and putting some clothes on.

Glancing down at her typical morning attire, Ellen burst into tears. Look at me! I’m such a mess. No wonder he doesn’t love me anymore.

Diane patted her shoulder. Ellie, it’s not you at all. You’re a wonderful woman. The others voiced their agreement.

Between little hiccups Ellen gasped, You have to say that. You’re my friends.

Damn right, we are! Jessie chimed in. And you’re crazy if you think we’re going to let you sit here and cry yourself into dehydration. Girls, let’s get Ellie all gussied up.

Georgia put the ice pack down, and gingerly tested her nose with a finger and thumb. Finding it bearable, she helped Diane haul Ellen to her feet and coaxed her back to the master suite. Jessie rummaged through the closet for a minute and pulled out a green silk blouse and black skirt. Here. This one looks good, and it’ll bring out your eyes. Handing her the clothing she shooed her into the bathroom. All right gang, what’re we going to do?

Diane’s confusion showed in her face. Do?

We’ve got to get her through this and ice cream can only work so long. Georgia, you got any ideas?

A makeover. New hairdo, new clothes, new makeup and perfume.

Jessie nodded. Diane?

She thought a moment. Well it’ll be hard for her living here, with all the memories. Maybe she should sell the house?

Jessie waved a hand dismissively. She can’t, not ‘til the divorce is final. And then only if she gets the house.

She’ll get the house. Georgia was sure. Doug can’t be that much of a bastard.

You don’t think so? Jessie chewed her lip thoughtfully. But in the meantime, she could redecorate. If we can talk her into it.

That won’t be difficult. Diane was the natural choice for that task as she ran her own interior design business. Ellie’s wanted to redo the house for ages, Doug wouldn’t let her. Cost too much, he said.

Jessie’s eyes narrowed in dislike of the man. Humph! If he doesn’t buy all new everything for that little floozy, I’ll eat my shoes! But the cost is a good point. Ellie would need money to redo the house, or herself, and she doesn’t have a job.

No, Georgia agreed. But she’s still legally married to Doug, so his money is her money for the time being.

Diane spoke up again. These are all okay ideas for a week or two from now, but what about today? Maybe we should take turns staying with her?

I don’t need babysitting. Ellen stepped out of the bathroom and turned for inspection. She’d splashed enough cold water on her face to eliminate most of the puffiness. What ideas are we talking about?

The three women looked at each other, unsure of how to explain that they’d been planning her near future without consulting her. Georgia, ever tactful, suggested they discuss everything over lunch.

Ellen stepped over the clothes on the floor and opened the top drawer of Doug’s dresser. She drew out a gold card with her estranged husband’s name on it. Okay. But I’m buying.

* * *

Three hours later, Ellen leaned against her front door. When had spending time with her friends become so exhausting? She knew they meant well, but she didn’t feel up to the marathon they were planning. Reinvention couldn’t be as simple as redecorating your house and yourself. There was too much past to be forgotten overnight. Walking into the living room, she paused. No busted picture frame. No broken glass. Someone was in her house. Someone…had vacuumed !

Mom, is that you? The blurred figure of her daughter Stephanie rushed at her and buried her in a tight hug. I was so worried! Where have you been?

Out to lunch with the girls. They were trying to cheer me up.

Stephanie moved back a bit to study her mother’s face. Did it work?

Not as well as they’d hoped, but for a while I almost forgot about the whole thing.

Oh, Mom! Stephanie pulled her close again.

Thank you, sweetheart. But I’m okay, at her daughter’s doubting look she continued, for now. I see you’ve done some cleaning. She set down her purse and keys. You must think I’ve lost my mind.

I wouldn’t think that for a minute. You’d have to go way further to make me worry about your mental health.

Ellen’s gaze was drawn to the fireplace. Steph, what is this? Grabbing the poker she leaned down and pulled a half-burned argyle sock from the flames.

Stephanie shrugged. A show of solidarity.

Don’t you think that’s a bit much?

No. A mischievous smile played over her face. You should see my landscaping. She turned and pointed to the patio doors.

Drawing back the curtains, Ellen stared in shock. It looked like a tornado had hit a men’s haberdashery and deposited its findings all over the backyard: a jacket snagged on a rosebush; a pair of pants hung from a tree branch, undershirts lounged on the hydrangeas. Stephanie! You did this?

Uh huh.

They stared at each other for a moment before bursting into laughter. Ellen pulled her daughter close. You are wonderful! The ringing phone disrupted their mirthful bonding. Ellen was careful to check Caller ID just in case. Hello? No, I didn’t know that. Well can’t somebody else…? Yes…I’ll head right over. Thanks. Bye. She hung up the phone.

What was that?

Jane Laurence died.

Old Mrs. Laurence? I thought she’d live forever.

Everyone did. I need to go. I’ll be back in a couple hours. Melanie’s staying over at Rachel’s, so you don’t have to worry about her. When Matt gets home…

I’ll feed him and make sure he does his homework. Don’t worry, Mom. I’ll take care of everything.

Thank you, dear. She peeked back through the door. Don’t forget to feed the fish.

Stephanie pretended annoyance. I won’t. Now go!

Exactly ninety seconds after watching her mother pull out of the driveway, she saw her father pull in. She considered pretending not to be home, but decided there was a better way to handle the situation—one more in keeping with her father’s line of thinking. Locking the door, she went to the master bedroom and pulled a painting from the east wall. Quickly she dialed the combination and extracted all but two hundred dollars, as well as her great-grandmother’s wedding ring and pearl necklace. Hearing the doorbell, she hurried to her bedroom. Let him wait she thought. She stuffed the loot in a shoebox at the back of her closet and went to the door. It was a good thing her Mom had the locks changed the day before.

Took you long enough. Doug kissed her cheek. Hello, pumpkin.

I was in my room. Didn’t hear the bell. She felt no qualms about lying to her father. He deserved it and more.

Is your mother here?

No. She had lunch with her friends and then had to rush out. She was only here for a minute or two. Old lady Laurence died.

Finally! Now we can get a progressive on the school board.

Stephanie kept her thoughts to herself. What’re you doing here?

Just stopping by to pick up some of my things.

Happy hunting. She smiled and poured a glass of lemonade.

Steph? Do you know where my clothes are?

Check out back. She sipped her drink and pretended to flip through a magazine. She stifled the urge to laugh when she heard him shout What the hell is going on here? Calmly she set the magazine down and strolled outside. What’s the matter, Daddy?

Doug gestured wildly. My…my clothes! He stalked around the yard, gathering items as he went. Your mother’s completely lost her mind. I can’t believe she… He stopped in horror. My Italian shoes! The ruined footwear floated in the pond.

You’d think for that amount of money they’d be waterproof.

His face contorted with anger as he fished them out. I try to be civil and this is the thanks I get. Well two can play at this game.

I don’t think so.

What?

You don’t want to do anything about this.

He was incredulous. "Why the hell not?

Mom didn’t do it. I did.

Doug stood silently digesting the statement and trying to decide if she was telling the truth or just protecting her mother. Her defiant glare was a fairly good indicator. He closed his eyes for a few seconds and blew out a breath. Steph, I know you’re upset about the divorce—

Oh no I’m not. She interrupted. I’m all for it. Now Mom can have a life and some freedom and you can go live happily ever after with your girlfriend. What was her name? Candy? Tiffany?

Chloe. He supplied.

Perfect. Her parents must have known she’d grow up to be a bimbo.

Stephanie, don’t talk about Chloe that way, or I’ll…

You’ll what? Spank me? Take away my allowance? Really Dad, do you actually think you can still make me do things?

He took another deep breath. Chloe is part of my life now. That makes her part of yours.

No it doesn’t. I don’t have to see her. I don’t even have to see you.

Is that really what you want?

The hard expression on her face softened slightly and she looked at her feet. I don’t know.

Steph, I love Chloe.

Tears welled in her eyes. You used to love Mom.

I still do. I’ll always love your mother. But it’s over. You understand that? She nodded, and he put a hand on her arm. We’re having a dinner next Friday. I want you to meet her. Will you come?

Stephanie shrugged. I’ll think about it.

It wasn’t the answer he’d hoped for, but he considered it a definite improvement over giving his apparel impromptu swimming lessons. He patted her arm and brushed a kiss on her forehead. I’ll let myself out. Halfway to the door he turned. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention this to your mother. There was no response.

When she heard his car start she sank into a chair and cried.

Chapter Two

So how do you feel about it?

Melanie bent over her algebra. About what?

Your parents getting divorced, that’s what.

Sighing, she sat up. They’re not getting divorced.

Rachel looked confused. But the whole town knows they are. He’s got a girlfriend.

Oh that. She waved her pencil and tried to look unconcerned. It’ll pass. It’s just a mid-life crisis.

Rachel Bryant had been Melanie’s best friend since first grade. There wasn’t anything they didn’t share with each other—until now. Rachel reached her hand out to cover Melanie’s. It’s okay, Lanie. You can tell me the truth.

Annoyed, Melanie shook off her hand. I am. There’s nothing to worry about. He’ll come back.

What if he doesn’t?

He will! She felt bad about snapping at Rachel, but it was hard to stay happy and normal when people kept looking at her with pity in their eyes. Sorry. I didn’t mean to shout. Let’s just talk about something else okay?

Like what?

Like boys.

The girls both started giggling and fell to discussing the merits and deficiencies of all the hottest guys in school, and what they would wear if they got asked to prom.

* * *

After a relaxing bubble bath (Stephanie’s idea) and a glass of wine (her own idea), Ellen decided it was time to do some soul-searching, and reassessment. She closed all the blinds quickly and locked the door. Standing in front of the full-length mirror in her bedroom, she dropped her bathrobe to the floor and contemplated the woman in the reflection.

Starting at the top wasn’t so bad. Her hair was still good, still mostly one color, and she wouldn’t apologize for those few strands that were different—after everything she’d been through she’d earned those bits of silver. Shoulders were nothing to brag about, but then who does brag about shoulders? Breasts—a little saggy; nothing a Miracle Bra couldn’t fix. Waist—shockingly not what she’d hoped. Hips—definitely needed work. Thighs—the less said the better. From that point down she was fine. Turning, she caught a glimpse of her backside and cringed. Leaning down to grab the robe she couldn’t help noticing how the loose flesh of her abdomen folded like an accordion.

She jammed her arms into the sleeves, closing the robe as quickly as she could, and savagely tied a knot even a boy scout couldn’t have defeated. There was no way that robe was coming open again. What on earth happened to me? She wondered. Big butt; cellulite—add a few varicose veins and more gray hairs and she could get a senior discount at the movies no problem. She closed her eyes tight, trying to make it all go away. But when she opened them again, she was still forty eight years old, alone, and the unhappy possessor of flabby thighs.

Ellen couldn’t stand the moping, weepy, chubby woman she’d become. With a determined sigh she rose and went straight to the kitchen. Scrutinizing the cabinets and freezer, she instantly saw the problem. Pizzas, chips, cookies, candy, ice cream sandwiches that promised to bury all her troubles in a soothing layer of saturated fat. Boxed, prepackaged convenience foods lined the shelves of her pantry. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d actually made anything from scratch. There were no vegetables, and the only fruit was a bag of frozen raspberries that had lain forgotten in the back of the freezer for a year. With all her social obligations, the kids’ sports practice and music and dance lessons, she’d been living a fast food life and telling herself that pushing a shopping cart counted as exercise.

No more, she vowed as she grabbed a fresh garbage bag and began tossing the offending foods into it.

Mom! What are you doing?! Matt stood in the doorway, an expression beyond shock on his fifteen year old face. Stephanie came up behind him.

Ellen didn’t even look up. I’m getting rid of all this junk. We’re going to be eating healthy from now on. Look at this! This cereal is full of sugar and preservatives. These microwave snacks are loaded with calories. It all goes.

Matt turned away, muttering, My friends will never come over again. Noticing Stephanie he added, From now on I’ll be at Steve’s house after school.

Here, Mom. Let me help you. Stephanie steered her to a chair and took the bag, continuing the ritual cleansing of the sacred shelves, but silently planning to rescue her favorite cookies later. You know, you’re right. We should be eating better. Would you like me to make some tea or something?

No, thank you, sweetheart. I’m fine. She glanced out the window. What happened to your ‘landscaping’?

Stephanie froze. Oh. Dad came by.

Silence.

Did he say anything?

He wasn’t very happy with my outdoor decorating ideas.

Did he say anything about maybe coming back?

No.

He needs time. He’ll come to his senses eventually.

Stephanie stopped stuffing the bag and sat down. Putting a hand over her mother’s hands, she struggled to find a way to say what she had to, without causing any more pain than was absolutely necessary. Mom, I don’t think he’s coming back.

Why would you say…

He invited me to dinner next Friday. She paused. "To meet her ."

Oh. Ellen slumped a bit in her chair. But he’ll have Matt and Lanie that weekend so that means…oh. I see. So it’s serious then.

I’m not going.

Of course you are.

No! Mom…

He’s your father, Steph. She blinked back tears. If this is how it is, then we all have to learn to deal with it…and get along.

How can you be so calm? So understanding? Aren’t you angry?

Of course I am. But I don’t have the energy for rage right now. They sat for a minute, listening to the gentle hum of the refrigerator. Steph, do you think he left because I got fat?

Mom, you are not fat. So what if you gained a few pounds? He left because he’s a selfish bastard who’s trying to recapture his youth in a Peter Pan syndrome display of neo-Freudian familial neglect.

Well I’m glad to see those psychology classes were worth the money. But you shouldn’t say things like that about your father. At least not when he’s around. They both laughed.

You’re really not fat.

I’m really not thin either. She sighed.

I’ll take care of this stuff, Stephanie raised the bag off the floor. Why don’t you go to bed?

Oh, I can’t sleep in that room. I spend most of the night tossing and turning and end up on the sofa anyway. At her daughter’s questioning look she added, You haven’t seen the evidence because I’m always up before you are.

Well, why don’t you take my room?

Thank you, honey. But I’m not ready to go to bed anyway.

Then how about we curl up on the sofa together and watch old black-and-white movies ‘til we go cross-eyed?

Ellen smiled. Deal. You make the popcorn; I’ll pick the movie.

After stuffing the garbage bag full of forbidden goodies in the broom closet, Stephanie ripped the cellophane wrapper off a popcorn bag and shoved it in the microwave. While she waited she bent down to get a bowl the right size and hit her head when she heard the backdoor. Ow! Do you always have to slam it?

Sorry. Doug Jr., known as DJ, started rummaging. Where’d all the food go?

Stephanie rubbed her head. "I swear that’s all you think about. Mom got rid of a bunch of it. Starting a new healthy lifestyle.

DJ examined the refrigerator and muttered, That blows. He grabbed ketchup, mustard, onions, pickle relish and ham, set them on the table and reached for the bread.

Stephanie watched in mute horror as he carelessly built what looked to her like the most disgusting sandwich in the history of the world. He’d left the bread bag open and she picked it up to put replace the twist tie. DJ, ew! This is cinnamon raisin!

So? With all this, I won’t even taste it. He bit into his sandwich, leaving the ingredients sitting out. Stephanie rolled her eyes and started putting things away. The microwave beeped and she went to take out the popcorn and pour it into the bowl.

You know, DJ said, a mouth full of food muffling his voice, It’s probably a good idea for Mom—this new health kick she’s onto.

It’s a good idea for everyone. She headed out of the kitchen but stopped in her tracks at her brother’s next words.

Yeah, but Mom’s really let herself go these last few years.

Let herself go? How, by running all over the place serving on committee after committee, chauffeuring kids back and forth, supporting a husband who dumped her for some…some… She couldn’t find a word bad enough.

Hottie with a body? DJ supplied. She’s got to be at least a double-D.

How would you know? You’ve never seen her. Stephanie glared at him.

Well I’m going to. Next Friday. Dad invited me specially to have dinner with the two of them.

Don’t bother gloating, moron. I’m going to be there too. And so are Matt and Lanie.

I’ve got dibs on the seat next to the fox.

She shot daggers at him as she left the kitchen. You are such a pig!

Unconcerned, he shrugged and finished his sandwich.

An hour later, Rick was about to confront Ilsa when the phone rang. Forgetting to check caller ID, Ellen answered. Stephanie had paused the movie and watched all the color drain from her mother’s face. This can’t be good.

What do you want, Doug?

Picking up the empty popcorn bowl, Stephanie went back to the kitchen, staying close enough that she could hear her mother’s end of the conversation.

"I was at the house today."

I know that.

"What happened to our wedding picture?"

Don’t tell me you want it for your new house. Wouldn’t that make your girlfriend uncomfortable?

"Let’s leave her out of this."

Let’s not.

"She has nothing to do with it."

Oh, I think she has everything to do with it.

"Ellie… he let out an exasperated breath. I don’t want to fight."

Well then you called the wrong number.

"Can’t we be civilized and respectful about this?"

"Was it respectful of you to be inviting our children to meet your mistress behind my back?"

"That’s actually why I called. I wanted to let you know before I mentioned it to the twins."

Thank God for small favors. Sarcasm came naturally but her stuffed up nose diminished the effect somewhat. I’ll save you the trouble. They’re not going.

"It’s my weekend with them."

Steph and DJ are adults, they can make their own choices, but you are not going to introduce that little tramp to Matt and Lanie!

"Now Ellie, be reasonable."

"Reasonable? REASONABLE ?"

Stephanie cringed as the decibel level kept increasing to the point where even the buzzing of the microwave and the intermittent popping sounds hadn’t so much as dulled the angry words. The popcorn was ready but there was no way she’d go back in that room until she heard the phone being placed none too gently into the charging station.

Matt shuffled in and grabbed a soda from the refrigerator. Must be Dad on the phone, huh?

Yep.

Are they ever gonna stop trying to rip each other apart?

I don’t know. Maybe. Men are scum.

Does that mean me?

You’re not a man.

Gee, thanks.

You’re lucky to still be a kid. Adulthood isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

I don’t feel lucky. The biggest problems I’ve got right now are how to ask out Becky Wilmont and whether or not I make the track team this year.

Stephanie smiled. Earth shattering.

Feels that way to me. I’m going back upstairs. A moment later she heard Matt’s boombox blaring and wished she could drown out the world as easily as he could.

* * *

"WHAT?"

"You know you turned Stephanie against me."

I didn’t have to; you’ve done a fine job of that yourself.

"I’m warning you, Ellen: don’t you dare try it with Melanie."

What’ll you do, divorce me? Without giving him a chance to respond she continued. I would never manipulate my children like that.

"They’re my children too!"

Funny you should mention that. You’re the one who walked out on them.

"I did not. I…"

Walked out on me. She finished for him. Well good riddance. It was a rotten impulse, but she was tired of following the rules: You were lousy in bed anyway! She hit the end button and slammed the phone down. She turned and saw Stephanie leaning against the archway.

I could’ve done without knowing that last bit. She set the popcorn down on the coffee table and took Casablanca out of the DVD player. We need to watch something different. Scanning the shelves she selected a war movie instead.

Chapter Three

Ellen was back in the butt-ugly bathrobe again. She was alone with a fever and a sore throat. The kids were having dinner with Doug and his mistress. Just thinking about it made her feel even sicker, but she didn’t have the energy to be angry, and crying would only start her nose running again. The hollow feeling in her middle persisted despite numerous attempts