Love's Illusions: A Novel

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Love's Illusions: A Novel Page 15

by Cazzola, Jolene


  Tears were forming in my eyes as I watched him go, a little voice inside me saying I wouldn’t see him again for a very long time – if ever. All I wanted to do was cry. Joe tried to put his arm around me for comfort, but I wouldn’t let him – the role he played in this whole screwed up mess was just too great for me to forgive and forget. Handing him the bag of frozen peas, I said thanks and stood up.

  Nodding in understanding he asked, “Are you okay to drive?”

  “Yes,” I said, “I’m fine.”

  As we walked to the door Joe told me that all my information was correct, but “he can’t admit it yet, Jackie.”

  Hesitating as I stepped out onto the stairs, blinking tears from my eyes, I said, “He has to sometime. I have to hear it from him.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Those Are Fingers!

  My mind was racing in a million different directions as I got back into my car. I hadn’t told anyone what I was doing today, not even Michael, even though I had promised I would. He was right. How the hell did he know Stephen wouldn’t talk? And what the fuck was I going to tell him about my eye? Glancing in the rear view mirror one more time, I could see the red outline of Stephen’s fingertips protruding upward from the cut just under a mole I had by my eye – shit he hit me hard, I must have struck a nerve in him, telling me I’m like his mother. That son-of-a-bitch, I wanted to murder him for doing this, but that aside, how was I going to explain it? Well actually, why should I even be worrying about it? Michael had no claim on me, I owed him no explanation at all – but I did, if I wanted this relationship… and I intuitively knew it.

  As I drove home from Joe’s, my only real concern was what to tell Michael. I was sure I could get creative, invent some kind of story to cover the truth, but just because Stephen lied to me, didn’t mean I had to continue lying. One lie just led to another, and Michael didn’t deserve that. I was tired of making things up, tired of the façade, tired of arguing – but most of all, I was tired of being tired. I wouldn’t try to protect Stephen any longer… I would tell Michael the truth. I knew him well enough by this point to be able to guess his reaction. Striking a woman, even in a moment of anger, wasn’t going to set well with his macho, biker, south side, self-appointed role as my protector. A role I knew I had not quite bothered to discourage, a role that, if I was being honest, held a bit of appeal for me in an old-fashioned screwed up sort of way, but one I was apprehensive about at this very moment. And it was a role he seemed to be taking more and more seriously ever since Thanksgiving, I reminded myself.

  At least I didn’t have to go to work tonight, and Michael had gone with his brother, Tom, and a couple other guys from the neighborhood to pick up some kind of delivery in Milwaukee – so with any luck, it would look a lot better tomorrow and no one would even notice.

  “That motherfucker!” I said out loud to the bathroom mirror the next morning. Instead of disappearing, the hand print was turning a deeper red with various shades of purple and it had swollen up too – you should have kept ice on it you idiot, I thought. I felt like shit, didn’t want to go to school; I wanted to go back to bed, but knew I had to go if I was ever going to catch up. I got myself dressed and headed off.

  ~~~~~~~~

  Michael showed up early at The Canteen that night, I knew he would. Instead of our usual ‘you don’t know what you’re missing’ conversation, Rick spent the early evening hours grilling me about what happened to my face – each time he asked, my answer changed. I was actually having fun tormenting him with one made-up, bazaar scenario after another, ranging from slipping in the shower, having been in a five car pile-up on the Kennedy Expressway and coming away with only a hand print, walking into a wall, falling asleep against the hand of a statue at school, a tattoo attempt gone bad, an abscessed tooth and a performance art piece for school. But despite my good mood and joking around, I knew he was not amused, and had called Michael to tell him something had happened.

  Michael was not amused either. I was serving drinks when he bounded down the stairs and saw me. Grabbing the tray from my hands, he pulled me into Charlie’s office, flipping on as many lights as he could find, brushing the hair from my face to examine me more closely and demanding “What happened? Who did this? I can see the hand print as clear as day, so don’t give me any of the bullshit you’ve been feeding Rick.”

  With an inviting smile, I put my arms around his neck, and kissed him three or four times until he hugged me back. “I will tell you the truth, but let’s not do it here, okay? I’ll explain everything when we get home.”

  He cupped my face with his beautiful hands, his eyes searching mine for something – what I wasn’t sure. He asked, “Are there any other bruises? You might as well tell me, you know I’ll just find them later, better to tell me now.”

  “Mmm, I’m counting on you doing a thorough examination, but right now I have to get back to work.” I teased, starting to move toward the door.

  However, he took my arm and said, “No, babe, tell me now.”

  There was something in his tone, something different that I couldn’t read, that said ‘explain now’, but I still gave it one more attempt, just in case, “It would be more fun to tell you at the apartment,” I replied in my best sexy voice as I lowered my hands to grab his butt, pulling him in.

  But as I sensed it would be, the response I got was him digging into his demand even more. “Cute… Tell me now.”

  Giving in, I told him that I had gone to see Stephen yesterday, gotten into an argument and he slapped me – the cut was from his ring. Michael’s temper flared, and he turned towards the door saying “I’ll kill him!”

  Stunned by the look on his face, it was my turn to stop him from leaving, grabbing his arm. “What? Don’t be ridiculous! You’re not going to kill anyone… I’m fine! It was my fault. I was in his face screaming at him – confronting him with everything… He reacted. I’m glad it happened – it’s over now, just let it go.”

  “You’re glad it happened!?! You like being hit!?!”

  “No! No, that’s not what I mean. I wanted to kill him at that moment too. What I mean is that it’s over. I’m gonna find a lawyer – file for a divorce. It’s over. I can’t pretend anymore.”

  We stood there staring at each other for the longest time, the air around us filled with some unidentifiable emotion. Thoughts unable to take form or voice filled the room, exerting pressure on both of us, until we moved together, holding each other in a tight embrace that needed no words.

  Rick broke the spell, sticking his head in the door, eyes darting over us, jerking his head towards the bar, “It’s getting busy out here.”

  Michael nodded and Rick backed out. “You can tell me the rest at the apartment,” he murmured in my ear.

  Chapter Nineteen

  A Hundred Women

  We didn’t go to the Sunrise Diner with the rest of the crew when the bar closed. We decided to go home, not talking about anything consequential while we walked, just stupid chitchat. He had a way of wrapping his arm around my neck, pulling me close, it exuded confidence and superiority, and gave me a sense of being so safe, so secure. As I hung up our jackets in the hall closet by the door, Michael came up behind me, putting his arms around my stomach, leaning his head against mine, squeezing and kissing the tops of my shoulders and neck. Feeling a rush of sexual desire come over me, but also something else, not just lust… His touch felt different – this was a sensation I wasn’t used to feeling, like being overcome by an unexplainable force at my very core, unwavering, wonderful, and invigorating, like a splendor encased in my heart.

  I turned to face him, neither of us speaking, enjoyment filling the moment. He sensed it too. Then he bent down, threw me over his shoulder, and headed for the bedroom with me squealing, kicking and laughing all the way. Closing the heavy red drapes as he passed the window, he tossed me onto the bed and announced that it was ‘inspection time’. Bending to unplug the phone and clock radio, he gave me a sidelong glance askin
g if there was any reason I needed to get up in the morning. When I told him ‘no’, he smiled, and said, “Good, because this inspection is going to take a very long time.”

  Sitting down next to me, he kissed the cut next to my eye, his hands unbuttoning my blouse, watching every little twitch of my face. I started to undo his shirt, but he stopped me, saying that I needed to be still, this was his ‘inspection’. When I tried to speak, he put his finger across my lips to hush me, and just shook his head, still looking at me as if he was looking into the depths of my unprotected soul. Finally, I was stretched out nude before him; he stood and removed his own clothes before lying down beside me. I felt exposed – not just because I was naked, but truly exposed as if he was seeing inside my mind, inside my heart, to the nucleus of my being. As his hands and lips moved across my body my heart pounded in my chest; I tried to control my breathing but couldn’t – each breath was deeper than the one that preceded it. Whenever I reached out to touch him, his hand would gently remove mine and he’d whisper “no, just be still.” My mind spun around, fighting with itself, trying to stay whole, and in control, but it was being consumed, replaced by something I could not name, could not see… I was dizzy, my fingers tingled with a rush of blood, my consciousness fragmented, and I was beginning to tremble when Michael whispered in my ear, “I’m falling in love with you Jackie… You know that, don’t you?” Tears welled up in my eyes, and rolled down my cheeks as I looked into his eyes and nodded.

  I rolled on top of him and sat up straight, twisting my own hair back to keep it out of my face. “I know Michael, and I… I’m …” I moaned sliding down to kiss him, whispering back, “Shit. God help both of us… you’re becoming part of me too and it scares me to death.” When he attempted to speak I put my finger on his lips, shook my head and said, “Be still it’s my turn.”

  He murmured “I love you” again as we slipped into a state of silent communication, our bodies saying everything that was necessary, until we both fell asleep intertwined in each other’s arms.

  ~~~~~~~~

  I woke to the words, “I just can’t seem to get enough of you,” reverberating in my ear, and a loving touch making its way down my side. The drapes were keeping the daylight at bay, bathing the room in a red, fire-like hue that lit up his shoulders so they almost sparkled with glints of light. Even without the clock, I knew it had to be at least noon, but I had no desire to move. The air was still thick with emotion – both of us knew we had turned some kind of a corner. I knew I could no longer pretend he was just some guy I picked up in a bar. We had officially crossed over into something else – but what exactly, I wasn’t sure. He pressed his morning cock hard against me, and I opened my legs to let him in. What had started out last summer as a casual, drug clouded easy fuck, had evolved. My eyes filled with water again, and as if reading my mind Michael kissed them away, and told me it would all be okay, everything would be alright.

  ~~~~~~~~

  I loved Sundays. I particularly loved this Sunday – a perfect day doing nothing of any consequence, just relishing each other’s company out of the reach of the outside world; we left the phone unplugged. I had just started a photography class, and had an assignment to do a portrait of someone I was close to, a portrait that revealed the true person. Michael agreed to become my subject so I spent the afternoon shooting pictures of him playing his guitar, and walking around the apartment in his jeans, shirtless, and barefoot. He looked perfect through the camera lens – the muscles of his arms and chest forming flowing, intersecting lines that mimicked a landscape, and screamed sensuality and sincerity to me.

  I put together the best brunch I could considering there wasn’t much in the refrigerator – neither of us wanted to go out to get anything. It was too cold outside. I never planned ahead when it came to food so most of what I had around was either frozen or canned, thus we made do with scrambled eggs, toasted bagels, and a few slices of deli ham and cheese. Both of us were straight, neither of us feeling the need to be stoned. I felt very happy and content.

  “Your face looks a lot better today – the swelling is down,” Michael said, almost as an aside, looking at me across the table. He was able to control his expression much better than I could making it difficult to read sometimes. I thought I caught a flicker of something as he spoke, but couldn’t be sure.

  “Yeah, it’ll be completely gone in a couple more days.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were going to go see him?”

  “I don’t know. No reason. I know I promised to tell you, I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to keep it from you.”

  “Did he admit anything – say what you wanted him to say?”

  “No, you were right. As a matter of fact, he said it was my fault, because I stayed with Mary Beth, that everyone else was lying, that he wasn’t gay, that I was just like his mother. He twisted everything. I flipped out when he said those things and got in his face… I was screaming, literally screaming. That’s why he hit me. I well, I guess I deserved it.”

  “No! No you didn’t deserve it –I don’t care what you said to him!” he blurted out, his voice raising, pounding the table with his fist, rattling the dishes and me as well. “Hitting a woman is wrong! And I know how hard he had to have swung to leave a mark like that. Rick was right; he deserves to get his ass kicked!” He was holding one fist inside the other, his jaw clenched closed so hard I could see his muscles twitch.

  “What’s wrong, why are you so upset all of a sudden? Oh my God… you didn’t… you’re not going to… Michael, no!” I cried. “You’re not going to do anything to him?!? And why the fuck did you tell Rick?” My mind started racing; I remembered what Rick and his friends did to that guy with the bottle in the bar before they dragged him up the stairs, and could only imagine what they did when they got him outside. I wanted nothing to do with anything like that happening to Stephen. “Michael… no! I’m serious, Goddamn it – look at me!”

  Michael raised his eyes to meet mine. His mask had shattered and I could see the anger behind his eyes. “Tell me what’s going on, Michael – talk to me,” I pleaded. “I need you to promise me you’re not planning on doing anything.” I cocked my head to one side, picking up on an unfamiliar undercurrent. “This isn’t about my eye, is it? You’re shaking, what the fuck is it?”

  “My father used to beat the shit out of my mother –and us kids. Keith caught the brunt of it, but he got the rest of us too,” he said swallowing hard. “My mother used to say she ‘deserved it’, just like you did. She didn’t… you didn’t.”

  His pain was palpable, and I was incapable of relieving it in any way. All I could say was, “I’m sorry you went through that. It must have been horrible.” We had been together since last June, but there was still so much I didn’t know about him, his family and his friends – the differences in our lives to this point hadn’t meant all that much to me… I was so consumed with my own shit. He was always there for me – he’d never leaned on me before to wrestle any of his own demons.

  I reached out, took his hand, kissed his fingers, and we smiled at each other. “You do understand the difference, don’t you?” I asked. “Stephen didn’t beat the shit out of me; he slapped me once. It was the first time, and it will be the last time – I don’t ever have to see him again. He’s never going to tell me the truth anyhow. You were right – I’m wasting my breath trying. If I had any doubts about getting a divorce before, I don’t now. This happening closed that door. You have to promise me Michael, you have to promise me that you won’t touch him – you or any of your friends. Promise?”

  “I promise,” he finally replied, nodding.

  Standing up I circled the table and kissed him, saying, “Thank you for telling me about your father.”

  “Yeah, well …” he snorted, “I figured you should know. I want us to be honest with each other. The way I figure it is that a relationship has to have honesty… if it doesn’t, then it’s already over. I want you to tell me what’s going on –
not just the part you think is okay. I want the whole story. Can you promise me that Jackie? Nothing you could say will change the way I feel about you.”

  I was trying to lighten the oppressive mood that was seeping into our Sunday afternoon as I said, “Sure, I’ll be straight with you if you’ll be straight with me.”

  Instead of the smart ass reply I was expecting, I got silence. “What,” I asked, “what’s going on in your head? Fair is fair you know,” attempting a joke-like tone again.

  “Hmph, I know, you’re right – it’s a deal. That… Well that’s why I have to tell you something else.” He made his way towards the couch, and slumped down into the cushions as if he was carrying an elephant on each of his shoulders. I watched, confused by the turn this conversation had taken. Not knowing where he was heading, I just stood there looking at him through narrowed eyes.

  “I meant what I said last night… I’ve fallen in love with you. I don’t want to lose you Jackie. The guys said I should keep my mouth shut, but I can’t, I have to tell you something.”

  “What? Tell me what? What are you talking about?”

  He inhaled through his nose, shaking the elephant weight off. Sitting up straighter, and looking me in the eyes, the words poured out. “I had sex with someone else while you were away over Christmas, but…”

  I just stood there, numb. I knew he was still talking; however, I couldn’t hear him. Minutes turned into hours in my mind as sporadic words broke through the fog, “Sorry… meant nothing… stupid… so sorry… I love you…” His words trailed off.

  I could see the pain in his face, as plain as day, but somehow it didn’t matter; he might as well have hit me in the head with a brick – I never anticipated this. But why did I feel this way? He didn’t have any commitment to me. I wasn’t married to him. He was free to do whatever he wanted, so was I – I had no claims, no rights… We had never talked about it being just the two of us, I mean, at least not until last night… Sure, it was sort of implied, but then again… What the fuck was wrong with me? Why was this happening again? Could I ever trust him again? Well at least it was a woman this time. At least he was telling me the truth and not lying to me – hiding it, like Stephen. Holy shit, how had I gotten myself in this deep? Then the strength in my legs gave out; the room clouded and went black.

 

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