Left

by Tamar Ossowski

  “Sit,” Therese said, taking a seat and leaning forward to pour them both some water.

  Leah stood.

  “Please.” Therese handed her the water, and Leah took it and sat at the other end of the couch.

  Leah shook her head. “What do you want?”

  “I had to see you, Leah. I’m sorry. There’s something I need to tell you.”

  Leah breathed in heavily, and suddenly Therese wondered if she had made a mistake. If whatever had been between them was now irreparably broken.

  “Okay,” Leah said, though she hesitated, and, in those few seconds, Therese almost began to cry.

  She took a sip of water, and the coldness numbed her tongue. “I found out something today. Something I didn’t know. Something that will change your mind. About Tim.” At that moment, she realized how important it had suddenly become for Leah to understand, but Leah just stared back at her, emotionless.

  “Well, not exactly about Tim. Really more about his father.”

  No response.

  “Turns out his father wasn’t a rapist after all.”

  There. Now it was out. The words burning inside of her released into the air. Leah looked down at the table and traced the circle of condensation left behind by her glass.

  “Did you hear me? He isn’t the son of a rapist.”

  “Yes, I heard.”

  “Maryann told me. She went to high school with Barbara. Told me about the boy and how he ran out on her and how she made up the whole story about being raped. Said that Tim looks exactly like him.”

  Leah put her glass back down on the table, positioning it perfectly inside the circle.

  “So what do you think?”

  Leah took a breath and then opened her mouth to speak, but Therese never heard what she said because just then the front door opened, and a young man with hair as wild as a lion walked inside.

  Sparking was rarely violent, but this time it shook her so hard, the glass she was holding flew out of her hand and crashed down to the floor. The shards twinkled like diamonds. Leah ran into the kitchen to get a dustpan and was soon on her knees, sweeping up the remains.

  He stood silently in the hallway.

  Smiling.

  Therese’s arms tingled as she turned toward Leah, whose head was bowed over the broken pieces. She wanted to move, but she couldn’t, so instead she stared at the back of Leah’s head.

  “Here, let me help you.” He dropped the paper bag he was holding and took the dustpan from her hand.

  Therese blinked, took in a breath, tipped back her head to scream, but then stopped. The tingling up and down her arms turned into deep, penetrating stabs.

  “It’s not a big deal. Just a glass,” Leah said as she turned around.

  Therese’s throat felt dry, and she couldn’t speak. She stared into Leah’s eyes and willed her to see.

  “Why don’t I get you another glass of water?” She went back into the kitchen, and the disconnection was so abrupt, it caused Therese pain. Leah was gone, and now she was alone with him. She rubbed her arms up and down, trying to make the piercing jabs she was experiencing stop.

  “You must be Therese,” he said, without looking up. There was a hint of arrogance in his voice, as if he had just calculated the answer to a difficult math problem. “Leah talks about you.”

  The water running in the kitchen made the pipes hum. She felt a faint throb above both ears. She wanted to sit down, to rest, but she refused to take her eyes off him.

  “Here.” Leah walked back into the room and handed her the glass. She drank, feeling her throat open and close around the cold water, numbing her insides and making the tingling finally stop.

  “Sit,” Leah said, this time pulling her by the sleeve. They sat together on the couch with him in the chair across from them.

  “I guess it’s my turn to tell you my news,” Leah said.

  Therese picked up her glass, searching for the last few drops.

  “I’m Lionel.” He wiped his hand on his shirt before extending it to her.

  His arm hung in the air for a few seconds. Then he shrugged, and withdrew.

  “I should go,” he said as he stood.

  “Yes.” The first words Therese spoke since he had entered the house. “You should.”

  “Therese!” Leah put her hands on her hips. She seemed angry, but Therese didn’t care.

  “You two have some talking to do.” He began to button up his shirt. Until that moment, Therese had not noticed it was even open.

  Leah grabbed his hand. “No. You don’t have to go.”

  He put his arm around her so that his hand rested on the small of her back. He pushed her into him, spreading her legs open with the curve of his knee. Then he nuzzled her neck and whispered something in her ear that made her laugh.

  Therese turned her head. She had seen and felt it—the sparking—the moment he walked into the room. She felt overwhelmed by her situation, her emotion, and by the fact that she knew, without a doubt, that the day would come when she would watch Lionel die.

  Therese tried to listen as Leah spoke. She was guarded at first, not forthcoming with many details, but the longer they sat together, the more comfortable Leah became. While Therese tried not to fold in on herself.

  Leah talked about how she had never met such a talented painter and how sweet and kind he was and how his art moved her. After a while, it all blended together until finally Therese made an excuse for why she had to leave and stumbled out of the house drunkenly, though she’d consumed nothing but water.

  She picked Matilda up from the babysitter, and even though she normally chattered like an angry bird, today she was quiet. All the better, because Therese needed time to think and clear her mind of what she had seen.

  Anger pulsed through her fingertips, making her sweat and lose her grip on the steering wheel. She moved her head from side to side, trying to shake the intimacy of Leah’s laugh out of her mind. Even though she trusted her instincts, even though she knew it would be okay, her heart still pounded so loudly in her ears, she thought it might explode. She parked in the driveway just as Joan was pulling away with Aunt Olive beside her. Joan waved. Therese waved back, afraid that if she didn’t, Joan might stop to talk, and she couldn’t trust herself to speak. She opened the front door to discover an array of red plastic cups artfully arranged in a circle around a stack of mail. Her breath quickened as she lifted her arm and swept them off the table, sending them toppling to the ground like bowling pins.

  “What’s going on in there?” Barbara yelled as she lifted herself from her spot on the couch.

  “Go wash up,” she told Matilda, putting her hand on the little girl’s back and giving her a push. Matilda turned back once before dropping her coat on the floor and running to the bathroom.

  “I said, what’s going on in here?” Barbara’s eyes narrowed, and her chin jutted out as she folded her arms across her chest.

  “I know.”

  “Excuse me?” Barbara stiffened, as though she had just been told to make her own dinner.

  “You heard me.”

  Barbara coughed a long, deep, throaty expulsion that made her chest heave up and down.

  “I know. All of it. I know you are a liar.”

  Barbara came closer. “You better calm yourself or I will tell him and this time he will take care of you. You and your little brat will be gone.” She snapped her fingers and her words bounced off little bursts of spit.

  Therese wiped her cheek. “It’s all your fault.”

  The only thing she could think about right then was how important it had been to see Leah, to tell her what she had uncovered, and in a flash she saw Lionel.

  All of it because of Barbara.

  Barbara walked back into the living room, her enormous mass swaying back and forth like a pendulum. For a second, Therese lost her focus, but then it came back, firing through her, catapulting her so that they were again face-to-face.

  “From now on, things go the way
I say,” Therese said, grabbing her arm.

  “Are you crazy?” Barbara asked, panting as she tried to free herself.

  “Did you hear me?” she asked. “I know all of it.”

  Barbara’s eye twitched. “What are you talking about?”

  “Tim’s father.”

  Barbara’s cheeks got red and her breath came out in puffs. “You don’t know anything.”

  The high pitch of her voice, which now sounded childlike took Therese by surprise. She released Barbara’s arm. “It’s time for us to go. Tim and me and Matilda. We need a home of our own.”

  “No.” Barbara shook her head.

  Therese leaned in closer. A waft of flowery perfume laced with sweat lifted from the folds of the fat woman’s skin. She breathed in deeply, savoring the moment. “I will tell him. Everything.”

  Barbara fell onto the couch like a wounded elephant. As she covered her eyes and began to cry, the room trembled and the windowpanes shook. She rocked back and forth, hitting the edge of the table, sending a second pyramid of plastic red cups cascading down. They bounced and scattered across the wooden floor, and one rolled near Therese. She lifted her foot and smashed it. Soon, she was wiggling and dancing around the room. Matilda watched from the doorway, covering her ears. Therese twirled and stomped, cracking every cup she could find, drowning out the whine of the television, the howl of Barbara’s sobs, until all she could hear was the sound of crushed, fractured plastic.

  She hated herself for it, but she could not bring herself to return to Leah’s after that night. She knew there was nothing she could do to make it stop. But one night, weeks later, she woke up and wished for rain. She wanted a storm to match the one she was feeling inside, but instead, it was dark and quiet and calm, and when she rolled over in bed, he was gone. Downstairs, she put a jacket on over her nightgown and got into the car. She turned on the windshield wipers, hoping for a torrential downpour, but the squeaky scratching noise annoyed her, so she turned them off. The streets flew by as she drove, and the next time she looked up, she had arrived.

  Parking across the street, she stared at the house, whose lights were on even though it was two in the morning. She watched from the darkness of her car, and then the front door slowly opened.

  They whispered, moving in and out of each other softly, and then he made his way to his car and drove off. She sat motionless, watching his taillights disappear into the blackness. Her hands were clammy from sweat, and she twisted them around the rim of the steering wheel. She could feel it growing inside of her, forcing her to get out and run like she was being chased. She landed on the welcome mat, pounding so hard at the door, she thought she might break through. Then without warning, it opened.

  It was the state of Leah’s hair that startled her. The usually perfect curls were untwisted, hanging limp and lifeless down her shoulders.

  “Please, Leah. Please. You have to listen to me.” She pushed her way inside, sending Leah tumbling several steps back.

  “What are you doing here?” Leah asked, as she tried to pull her robe closed. The robe was clearly too small on her, though.

  “You have to end it.”

  Leah walked into the kitchen. “Tea?”

  Therese ran after her, grabbing her arm. “Leah, I’m serious. This has to end. Now.”

  Pouring water echoed around the room as Leah filled the kettle. “First, I don’t hear from you in years. Then you come back into my life and think you can undo everything I’ve worked for and then you disappear again. Now, here you are, in the middle of the night, telling me how to live my life.”

  Therese stood up, the colors on the walls swirling through her. She thought it had been days, but maybe Leah was right. Maybe it had been weeks. Weeks of sleepless nights, waking with sweat plastering her hair to her forehead, feeling the danger that Leah was in, but not having the words to explain.

  “Please, Leah.” She could feel the tears waiting to fall at the next breath. “Please.”

  “What has gotten into you?” She opened a cabinet door, stretching her arm high to reach a cup on the top shelf. Therese spun her around so that they were facing each other. “He is bad, Leah. I get a feeling about these things. Please, listen to me.”

  Leah shimmied herself out from Therese’s grip. “I never thought you would do this to me. I never thought you would stand in my way. Don’t you think I can make my own decisions?”

  Therese took in a breath, her eyes glazed over, and then the words came except that they were flat and disconnected. Like she was reading from a script. “Leah, he is going to hurt you.”

  Leah shook her head. “Are you jealous of him?” The words made a ripping sound as they flew from Leah’s lips and almost knocked Therese to the ground. “You make this about him when it is only about you. When it’s always about you.”

  Whatever emotion Therese had expelled suddenly latched itself onto Leah. She walked over to the teacups, her hand shaking, and with one swoop, knocked them all off the counter and to the floor. The crashing sound made Therese suck in her breath, but Leah did not move. She stood with her back to Therese, her arms drawn around herself.

  “I am going to have a baby and I am not going to let you ruin it.”

  Baby.

  She was going to have a baby.

  Therese reached out her hand, but because Leah’s back was turned, she did not see. Therese felt despair sink down inside, becoming a part of her, and she knew there was nothing left to do. She turned and walked out of the room, out of the house. She sat in the dark as thunder rumbled above, and then, even though everything inside of her screamed that she was right, she pushed it so far down that it became nothing more than a whisper, easily drowned out by the long-wished-for raindrops that now slapped angrily at her windshield.

  It was worse at night, when darkness took away the reason of light. She closed her eyes and remembered the promises they had made. The risk of losing Leah was too much to bear, so she hired a babysitter for Matilda, put on her best dress, and she and Tim invited Leah and Lionel out for dinner. Tim chose the restaurant, which was surrounded by windows that overlooked a parking lot. When she closed her eyes, the sound of traffic reminded her of waves. When she opened them, Lionel was helping Leah into her seat, his hand cupping the small of her back.

  “Hi.” Leah’s eyes were glassy, like she had just woken from a dream. Her belly looked large and round, and Therese wondered why she hadn’t noticed it before. Now it protruded outwards, making itself known. Leah pushed slightly away from the table to make herself more comfortable, and Therese resisted the urge to pull her close and sit like they always had when she was pregnant with Matilda.

  Before Lionel.

  He reached over to shake Tim’s hand and nodded at Therese. “So, what looks good?”

  As usual, Tim was completely lost in the menu, which gave Therese time to stare at the happy couple. Once, when Lionel caught her looking, he winked. The waitress came and they ordered drinks, Lionel insisting that he and Leah share from the same glass, which seemed to delight Leah. During the meal, Lionel pulled Leah’s chair closer to his, and when Therese bent down to pick up a spoon that had fallen to the floor, she saw that they were holding hands. When he spoke to Leah, he whispered in hushed tones, as though he was telling her a secret that no one else was worthy enough to hear. Everything seemed to be going fine, yet no matter how she tried, she could not rid herself of a foreboding sense of impending doom. It hung on to her and made it difficult to swallow.

  “Where are you from, Lionel?” she asked, raking her fork against the mashed potatoes on her plate.

  He looked up and smiled. “Here and there.”

  “Will you settle down here when the baby comes?”

  He was quiet for a few minutes, or maybe it was longer, because soon she wondered if he was ever going to answer at all.

  “I remember once driving through this town. Had this cute little diner in the center. Think it was called Emerald. I knew the moment I saw it t
hat’s where I was going to end up. It’s the kind of place you settle down in once you know you’re done running.”

  “It sounds like the perfect place,” Therese said.

  Leah reached over to rub the top of Lionel’s hand, and he looked down at his lap like he was embarrassed, like he had revealed too much. Then she smiled at Therese, who stared even harder at her mashed potatoes.

  It was at the end of the meal that she found herself alone with Lionel. Leah had excused herself to use the bathroom, and Tim had gone to get the car. They were standing outside the restaurant, he with his hands stuffed into his pockets and she with Tim’s jacket draped over her shoulders. She was stepping back and forth, trying to stay warm.

  “Cold?”

  He stared at her so intently that she briefly understood what it was that Leah found so captivating. When he smiled, he looked like a boy, mischievous and fun, but there was also something masculine and strong about him. Even his smell was seductive, and although she fought against it, she could feel herself being drawn in, unable to regain her footing.

  “I’m fine.”

  It happened in a second, maybe when she was staring down at the pavement thinking about the ocean. He grabbed her by the collar. The movement was so sudden, it squeezed the breath out of her. Then he grit his teeth, the words coming out like the snarl of an animal.

  “You and me? We are the same. Only difference is that she’s mine and you can’t have her. The sooner you get that through your fat head, the better. Understand?”

  He brought her up to his face so that she could feel his heat. His lips came close enough to kiss her, but then he laughed and pushed her away, sending her stumbling backwards. When Tim drove up, she got inside the car, feeling the rage well up inside her, pushing into her chest. She wanted to scream, but her voice seemed to have disappeared. Anger crept across her cheeks, and she admonished herself once again for questioning her instincts and not doing what needed to be done.

  “Everything okay?” Tim asked, poking her playfully in the arm.

  She nodded, even though she knew. Nothing was okay.