by Gabi Moore
“Work? Ma what work are you doing?” I said. I couldn’t deal with this shit right now.
“Well gosh, it’s nearly 8 o’clock and I haven’t even started dinner yet, that’s what!” she said, and bustled out.
I stood in front of Maggie and we looked at one another. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
“Your mom… she’s not well” she said. Her voice was still that same husky timbre I remembered. The kind of voice that only went clear and bright when she was screaming at you. A dangerous voice. Threatening or sexy, depending on how sure of yourself you felt.
“Yeah. Senior moments. It’s not looking good,” I said, and rubbed the back of my neck with my hand.
“You look well,” she said quietly.
“Thanks. You too, I guess.”
I realized all at once that I wanted her to leave. I was bone tired. This shit with ma’s dementia, and with Maddy suddenly seeming all distant and weird with me, and having to make money stretch till the end of the month while I waited for my first salary from the new job to come in… it was all too much. And she was too much. She had always been too much.
“Sit with me?” she said and patted the sofa seat next to her.
I shifted my weight and crossed my arms, not budging. The faint smile disappeared from her face.
“I heard you got out.”
“Evidently,” I said. It came out sounding meaner than I wanted it to, but I hated her being in ma’s house like this. Seeing ma struggle. Why had she pitched up here so late? And wasn’t she supposed to be living out of state somewhere?
She stood up and sidled over to me, and I felt the hairs stand on the back of my neck. Her perfume was too strong and her lipstick too dark. I couldn’t decipher her expression but I knew I didn’t like it. She was looking at me the same way Maddy would look at one of her sick puppies after it threw up on the carpet: half pity, half irritation.
“You’re angry at me,” she said. If she was planning on having a big fat discussion right now, she had another thing coming.
“Can I ask why you’re here?” I said.
“Just to talk. It’s been so long.”
She took a step towards me and stood close. Really close. Her body suddenly struck me as so small compared to Maddy’s. It was a tight body. All teeth and bone and spite, held together with jewelry. She was like a bat. It took everything in me not to take a step away from her. To my dismay, I could hear ma clanging pots and pans in the kitchen.
Maggie reached out and touched my arm, and my skin crawled under her touch. Before I could object, she wrapped her arms round my neck and brought herself in for a hug. A wave of anger washed through me and I pushed her back again, hard, causing her to stagger back a step.
“What are you doing?” I hissed.
“What are you doing?” She looked down at the place where I had pushed her, then back up at me. Her voice wasn’t at screaming pitch yet, but it sure was getting there.
“Maggie, I haven’t seen you in years. I don’t …why are you even here?”
I heard ma begin to sing in the kitchen. A hard lump gathered in my throat.
“Jeez, fuck, I’m so sorry, I thought you’d be glad to see me,” she said bitterly.
“You just disappeared, Maggie. I didn’t hear from you. It’s been two years. Where the fuck did you even go?”
“I was hurting, Zack, OK? I was really confused. A lot of stuff happened back then, you know…”
“Yeah, all stuff that you caused.”
The look on her face was painful to see.
“I was scared, Zack.”
“So, what am I supposed to do about that? Leave then. Why are you even here?” My fists were so tight I felt my nails bite into my palms.
She sighed. “I see that not much has changed.”
“What do you want, Maddy?” I was more than bone tired.
“Maddy? Did you just call me Maddy?”
My skin prickled into a cold sweat.
“I think you should just go. Unless you had something specific you wanted to say, well, it’s late and I have to work tomorrow…”
“Who’s Maddy?” she asked, quick as a fox. She was almost smiling.
I looked her square in the eye and sighed loudly.
“A woman I’m seeing,” I said.
A wonderful woman. A woman who taught me things I didn’t even know I needed to learn. A sweet, beautiful, loving woman, one who’s very body seemed designed for every form of pleasure. A woman who made me want to weep with joy every time she looked my way and smiled. A woman who knew my dark, sordid history. Most of it anyway. And a woman who was drifting away, even now, even at this very second as ma was making dinner for the second time that evening, and my sordid past had rung the doorbell and waltzed into my living room in black stilettos, like nothing had ever happened.
“A woman. Is it serious?” she asked. Like she had any right to know.
“Yes. I think so.”
She looked at me.
“Does she know about me?” she asked.
I knew how her mind worked. For Maggie, everything was about her, and she had endless energy for creating whatever drama she needed to if she happened to find that something had the audacity to not be about her.
“Yes,” I said simply.
I knew that for Maggie, words were weapons, and she loved to take yours from you and turn them right back against you. So I gave her just one.
She took a step back and slowly paced around the room, picking up ma’s little ornaments and knick-knacks in her hand, one at a time, examining each one like she was deciding whether to smash it onto the ground or not. She seemed unimpressed with everything.
“And does she know about your …little issue?” she asked, with slow, quiet deliberation, almost sneering the words.
“That has nothing to do with anything. There is no issue. You know I was getting help for that, even before I went in.”
She shot me a poisonous look.
“So you haven’t told her then,” she said, and smiled darkly.
“There’s nothing to tell.”
“Poor girl.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
She paced around the room a little more, like a panther in its cage, like she was gathering up strength to say the most biting thing she possibly could. There was a time when Maggie was young and sweet. When her black hair had a playful blue glint to it. Not anymore though. Life had done weird things to her. She picked up a tiny crystal frog in her hands and turning it over and over.
“I think you’d better go now, Maggie,” I said, and took a step towards her. The second I did, she jolted away from me. Both her hands instantly flew up as though to defend herself, a little black deer in headlights. She seemed genuinely alarmed. Was I such a monster? Was I so bad that people needed to be jittery around me? She gave a nervous smile and placed a hand on her chest to calm down, as though someone had just jumped out at her from behind a door.
“I’m sorry,” she said, suddenly more serious. “You’re not the only one with flashbacks, you know.”
She squirmed a little under my gaze. I felt like shit. It had taken all of five minutes of seeing her again and the old familiar feeling had come rushing right back: around Maggie, I was always the villain. Always the unwanted brute. Able to make her wince and cower just by moving too quickly.
I wrestled internally for a moment, wondering whether reaching out and hugging her would be soothing or just another insult for her to shrink back from. For a moment, her hair had that glossy blue tint in it again.
“Maggie …I’m sorry. What the hell happened to us? How did it get this bad?”
Like some kind of dangerous creature wriggling off a fly, she shrugged and looked up at me, eyes hardening up again. Here she was, my past, in the shape of a thin, angry woman. You may be able to run away from the past for a while, sure, but those things carry on living just the same without you. While I had my back turned, Maggie had become a str
ange caricature of herself.
The words that came out of her mouth next were kind and sweet, but said with a hidden venom. She made me remember how everything with her had always been just a little threatening, a little strange. She was the wasp hiding inside a flower. She painted her long nails red and smiled, but I was never sure what that smile meant.
“I don’t know what happened to us. Too much.”
“I’m sorry, Maggie, for everything.”
“I’m sorry too.”
“Have you been coping OK? With work and stuff? How’s everyone? I heard you moved.”
She smiled wistfully and tilted her head.
“I’m fine. Life goes on. Whatever. I just …I thought of you a lot, when you were away. I had a lot of time to think.”
“Me too.”
She lifted big, liquid eyes up at me.
“I’ve missed you, Zack.”
My jaw tightened. I reached out and hugged her after all. She didn’t resist. So I held her close a little and hugged her, and she let me.
“I missed you too, Maggie.”
Her body felt small and nervous in my arms. She leant into me a little, pressing her cheek against my chest. Despite myself, despite everything in me railing against it, despite everything that had happened and despite two whole years I had spent trying to wash her little black tendrils from out of my mind, despite all that, I felt my body responding to her. I tried to push her away again but she held on to me. Her body against mine reminded me of things. Of the things I knew she kept underneath all that black clothing. Of how things used to be between us.
“Do you remember how angry you used to be…?” she whispered, and before I knew it her hand was pressing urgently against my crotch. I shuddered and closed my eyes. Of course I remembered.
“How could I forget?” I said, and her hand was like a spell on me, conjuring up a past that I had tried so hard to forget, but which my body somehow remembered. I became so hard it nearly hurt. She rose up to her toes and whispered seductively into my ear.
“You know what I missed the most, Zack? Missed more than anything?” she purred.
I was more than a hundred pounds heavier than her and taller by a foot, but pulling away from her grasp at that moment seemed liked the hardest thing in the world.
“Do you know what I miss, Zack? I miss how cruel you were,” she continued. I twitched in her hands, trapped, unable to decide if I even wanted her to stop.
“Do you remember how hard you used to fuck me? You used to call it your ‘haze’, do you remember? I remember,” she whispered.
I groaned and pushed her away, shaking my head.
“Maggie, no. I can’t.”
She drew back and looked me over.
“What? That other woman?”
“I care about her. She’s special. She’s a good woman. I want to do the right thing this time” I said, almost pleading.
She giggled.
“The right thing? Zack, the right thing for you is to stay away from any ‘good woman’. You’re a menace,” she said darkly.
“I’m different now.”
She looked down at my crotch and smirked at me.
“Really? You seem just the same to me,” she said and leaned in for another kiss.
I twisted my head away from her.
“I mean it, Maggie. I’m trying to be better.”
She cocked her head to the other side, undeterred.
“I understand you, Zack. We understand each other. There is no better for someone like you. But I don’t care how fucked up you are. We could try again…”
“I think you’d just better go,” I said, and squared my shoulders. I thought of Maddie. Of her mousy hair and fleshy hips. “That’s all in the past now,” I said. She frowned and shrugged, her mouth twisted.
“Suit yourself. When you break this other chick’s heart and she gets a restraining order against you or whatever, get in touch with me if you like. I can’t guarantee that I’ll be waiting around for you though,” she said breezily.
When she opened the door to leave, a big gust of cold wind blew into the house and lingered, even after she slammed the door again. I stared at the space where she had been standing. The frog had been put back down on the table in the wrong place, carelessly.
“Zack?”
I turned to see ma in the kitchen doorway, her old apron tied on and her brows knitted.
“Zack. We’ve already had dinner haven’t we?” she said, looking miserable. I nodded and she came up to me, and I folded my arms around her and pulled her frail body close.
“I’m scared, Zack. It’s happening so often now,” she said.
I squeezed her and kissed her head. It smelt like powder and paper and sadness.
“I know, ma. I’m here. Don’t worry about it. I’m here.”
“Did I hear voices? Was somebody in here with you?” she said, and lifted questioning eyes to me.
“Yeah …it was uh …it was Maggie.”
She started and pulled away from my arms.
“Maggie?”
Her face was twisted in confusion.
“Unless we’re both having a senior moment, ma, Maggie came round. We chatted for a bit. I told her to get lost.”
Ma stepped forward and patted my arm knowingly.
“You don’t let that witch come inside here again. She’s done enough damage already.”
I hugged her again.
“I know what you need!” she said, clapping her hands together with glee.
“What’s that?”
“My famous spaghetti bolognaise. It’s so late and we both haven’t had any dinner yet, that’s the problem,” she said, and made for the kitchen.
I tried again to swallow down the lump in my throat, but it wouldn’t go. Maggie was a bitch. I hated everything she was and everything she reminded me of. But there was one small irritating detail: she was right. About everything.
“Sure ma. Your spaghetti’s the best.”
Chapter Nineteen – Madeleine
I smiled at the piece of paper, read the word written on it once over again, and folded it half a few times.
Alex.
I held the ball of paper in my fingertips, dipped it over the flame and watched as the fire licked the end and was soon burning it up. First the A disappeared, then the L, and I smiled when only ‘EX’ was left. And then that too burnt away, and his name turned to cinders in my hands, and those blew away and disappeared as well.
I took a deep breath. Today would be a good day. I had already discussed it all with my therapist. I was allowed to want things. To trust myself again. To open up to Zack and be vulnerable with him, even though it was the scariest thing in the world for me. Even though he had a dark past. Even though he had done to others the one thing I swore I would never let anyone do to me again.
He was going to be here any minute, and so I dashed around the house quickly, kicking cat toys under the sofa, plumping the pillows and arranging and rearranging the candles neatly. It wasn’t the fanciest house you’ve ever seen in your life. But at the least it could be comfortable.
Being so proactive was a new thing for me. And the prospect was exciting. Me, Maddy Bright with her love handles and unfashionable hair and abandonment issue; little old me, warts and all, finally, once and for all, in a real, genuine relationship. Not the hostage situation I had going on with Alex. Not a pact with a broken boy I would nurse to health like I did one of my rescues. But a healthy, grown up and mature relationship. Why not? If Alex could move on and improve in life, so could I.
I heard his footsteps crunching on the gravel outside and raced to the mirror to check my reflection. He’d kiss all this lipstick off anyway, but I liked that I put it on all the same.
“Zack is that you?” I called out. When he appeared in the doorway I bounced over to him for a big hug, then planted my lips onto his and kissed him deeply. He laughed, then pulled back to get a good look at my outfit.
“Whoa, will you just
look at you! You expecting anyone?” he said, with that deliciously naughty twinkle in his eye. I swatted his arm and pulled him inside.
“As a matter of fact, I am, silly. His name is Zack Hunter and he thinks he’s funny. You wouldn’t have seen him around by any chance, would you?” I said and beamed at him. Even I was surprised by how happy I was to see him.
He gave the two dogs lazing on the carpet an affectionate belly rub each and then stood to smile back at me.
“Zack you say? Yeah I might have heard about that guy …he’s a shady one, I’d be careful,” he said, and then reached out and pulled me back into his arms for another kiss.
I loved how easy it was for us. How right it all felt. Why had I ever resisted him? Who cared if he had some trouble in the past with an ex? Didn’t we all? But that was the past. We were here in the present now, so what did any of that matter?
“Come and sit down. I have so much I wanted to tell you.”
He looked a little nervous as I sat beside him and cleared my throat. I made a mental note to get a better sofa. If I was going to be a mature, healthy, put-together adult, I’d have to start by getting some more sophisticated furniture, for one.
“I broke up with Alex. Properly this time.”
He looked at me blankly.
“I know, I’ve been broken up with him for ages, but this time everything’s really well and truly over. That cord is cut,” I said, and mimed a string that I snipped in half with two fingers.
He smiled and placed a firm hand on my knee and squeezed.
“That’s great Maddy. I’m glad to hear that. It sounds like you guys had a really …unhealthy thing going on. I’m glad you’re not going to take his shit anymore.”
“Oh, but that’s the thing, that’s what different this time. I think I actually understand all his shit now. I think I can forgive him. We talked it all out, and you know, I can’t describe it, but I feel like I can move on from this now you know?”
I was expecting him to be a little more excited. I guess you can’t expect people to throw a party the fortieth time you’ve broken up with the same guy. But still.