17. REASONS
I couldn’t understand what to make of Patrick’s mood. He was both very angry and gentle with me. His face, his jaw was so tense. The phrase if looks could kill came to mind. It was like he could snap a person in half just by looking at them. I was so scared. Not that he would physically hurt me. I know he wouldn’t do that. No, I was scared that he was mad at me. Mad because I was damaged and not worth the energy, time and friendship that he has spent on me. Or mad that I didn’t tell him sooner, so I had betrayed his friendship or thought less of our friendship.
But then there was his voice. It was controlled, when he spoke to the DA and Detective Peters. But it changed a little when he spoke to me, it was soothing. It was gentle and kind. It was like being wrapped in an embrace that would keep all the bad away.
“What do you want to eat?” There was a sense of urgency in his voice as we walked to the exit of the courthouse.
I shook my head. “I’m not hungry.”
“You need to eat.”
“I’m not hungry.” I insisted.
“If I know you, and I do. You didn’t eat breakfast this morning, didn’t eat much of anything last night, if at all and I know that you didn’t eat lunch yesterday.” He looked at me as we walked. “You need to eat.”
I thought about it a second, and he was right. I probably hadn’t really eaten anything since breakfast yesterday. But I still didn’t feel hungry, I was exhausted and preoccupied with, well, a lot of things, so food wasn’t anywhere on my priority list. I was too worried about what he thought of me and if I had lost him, to be hungry. “I’m not hungry.”
“Fine. Well, I am. So, I’m going to eat and you can just sit there if you want.” He looked at me. “What kind of food do you want to sit near?”
“Doesn’t matter to me.” I shrugged.
“Okay. Good suggestion. Chinese it is. There’s a good place nearby, ate there once when we came up to visit Lindsey.”
As we got closer to the exit, it got more crowded. I tensed up at the thought of walking any distance outside in this city. Patrick didn’t look any better. He put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me closer to him as we walked outside. We walked about two blocks to the restaurant.
It seemed like the restaurant was very busy, there was a line out the door. Patrick led us past the line and inside to the hostess stand. He asked for a table and we were promptly seated. We got a table near the back of the restaurant. It was a round table that could sit four to five people. I didn’t mind it because it gave me a choice of seats to pick. I really hated having my back to the door. I chose the seat where my back would be closest to the wall and I could see my surroundings. Patrick sat beside me, to my left. Despite being lunch time, the sit-down area of the restaurant wasn’t very busy. It seemed that the line out the door was for take-out.
Patrick studied the menu, flipping through the pages. I had the menu open in front of me, but I was more interested in trying to figure out Patrick. His demeanor hadn’t changed. His body language and his tone with me were completely different and it continued to confuse and worry me.
“What are you getting?” He asked as he continued to look through the menu. I shrugged. He rolled his eyes and sighed. “You are getting something, even if it’s just going to sit in front you looking and smelling good.”
The waitress appeared. “Are you ready to order?” Patrick nodded. “What can I get you?”
“I’ll have the Mongolian Beef with egg rolls and egg drop soup.” He closed his menu.
The waitress nodded and turned to me, “And for you?” I just looked at her and shook my head.
“She’ll have the Cashew Chicken with egg rolls and egg drop soup.” Patrick responded.
“Anything to drink?”
“Two root beers.” He handed the waitress our menus and she left.
Patrick sat there like he was boiling over in anger. His eyes flashed with frenzy and his jaw tightened. His fists were clenched on the table. I knew I should say something, but what? I said the only thing I could think of, “I’m sorry.” My head was down in shame.
“Sorry?” His voice dripped with sarcasm. “What for?” He stared at me, his eyes tightened. “You have nothing to be sorry for. You didn’t do anything wrong.” He was mad. No, not mad. Furious.
The waitress returned with our drinks. She put some forks down and left. I stared at my drink.
“Yes, I did. This whole mess is my fault. I shouldn’t have gone shopping that day. I should have told you a long time ago. I shouldn’t have had you come. I should have told you before coming here, before finding out like that. I did everything wrong. That’s why you’re so angry.”
He shook his head. “Yes, I’m angry as hell. But not at you.” He banged his fist on the table and his voice started to drip with frustration. “It was real hard to hear. I just wanted to beat the hell out of the guy. I’m angry at your parents for blaming you, for making you suffer by yourself.” Through gritted teeth, he admitted, “I’m sorry. I’m not handling this very well.”
Huh? He’s not mad at me? I whispered, “I don’t…understand.”
He took a deep breath and exhaled. “Yeah, I was caught off guard. I wasn’t expecting to hear what I heard, what had happened to you.” I felt horrible for putting Patrick through all of this. “But I’m glad I did. It…” He looked at me apologetically, “It explains a lot.” His hands started to relax a little. “Part of me understands why you didn’t and couldn’t say anything before. I don’t blame you. I wish you did, I really wish you did. I feel bad that this happened to you and that you have been dealing with this alone. You shouldn’t have. You didn’t need to be.”
“What was I supposed to do?” I couldn’t help but get defensive.
“I’m not accusing you of anything.”
“How was I supposed to tell you? Ask you how your spring break was? What did you do for your vacation? Oh? Me? Yeah, I went to San Francisco and was brutally attacked. My parents blame me. They pretend it didn’t happen. Actually, the truth is that they think I deserved what happened to me. Kinda like an ‘I told you so’ type thing.” I stopped suddenly when I saw the waitress appear again, this time with our soups. I waited until she left. “I’m sorry. I just…” I shook my head. “I didn’t know how to tell you what happened. How damaged I am. How I let myself… How I was found in the trash.”
“Stop that. Don’t you get it? It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Yeah, but.” I tried to interrupt, but he wouldn’t let me.
“Liz, sometimes you do everything right and things still don’t turn out the way you want. You did everything you could. You fought back. He could have…”
“I know. He could have raped me, like the others. It’s almost as if he had.” I stammered.
“But he didn’t. He didn’t because you fought back and didn’t give up. I’m proud of you.” He put his hand on mine and lightly squeezed it.
“I don’t understand why.” I really didn’t. It made no sense. My parents weren’t.
“You survived. You’ve been through hell, you’re kind of still in it, without the support of your parents. Despite them. You are stronger than you think.”
“I’m broken.”
“For now, maybe. Because you had no one to talk to about it. But you won’t always be that way.” The waitress brought us our entrees. We hadn’t even started our soups. “You can start by eating something.” He pushed my soup and plate closer to me. I stared at the food. “Look, it was a hard morning for me. It was much, much harder for you. I’m hungry, but I’m not eating until you do.”
I kept staring at the food. I really didn’t want to eat. I couldn’t. He couldn’t be serious, could he?
Patrick sighed, “Haven’t you put me through enough? Now, you’re going to starve me, too?”
I looked at him. I felt crushed. My face fell. I did hurt him. I felt like I was kicked in the gut.
“I’m kidding, Liz.
I’m kidding.” He shook my arm. “Just a joke. A bad one. I’m sorry.” He cracked a little hopeful smile. “I was just trying to get you to eat. See…” He took a spoonful of his soup. “Forget I said it.”
I still felt bad. There had to be some truth behind what he said, or he wouldn’t have said it. Right? I really wanted to know. I looked at him, “Patrick? Can I ask you something?”
“Will you eat something?” He asked again. I didn’t want to. I wasn’t hungry. I didn’t feel like it. He looked at me, really frustrated. “Okay, how about this? Tell me why you won’t eat. You got to be stubborn about it for a reason. Why? The truth. Remember, you’re still under oath.”
“The truth.” He knew the worst thing about me. I might as well tell him what he wanted to know. It took too much energy to deflect or hold back anymore. “It’s about control. When I feel like I’m losing or lost control, it’s the one thing that I can control. When everything is spiraling out of my control, the only thing I can control is what goes into my mouth.”
“Don’t you feel awful? Doesn’t it hurt? I mean, your body needs food. Headaches? Faintness? That kind of stuff?”
“The truth?” I asked. Patrick nodded. “Yeah, but I guess that’s part of it too.” I looked at him, and it was clear, he didn’t understand what I meant. “Well, it’s a way to feel…to, I guess, physically hurt to try to override the emotional hurt. I don’t know if that makes sense to you.” I shook my head. “Well, it’s my logic behind it. Might be warped logic, but it’s my logic. I had been doing better at, well, not doing it. Like I said this morning, basically, I replace one behavior with another. ”
“How long have you been doing this?”
“Maybe since junior high. It was my way of dealing with stuff. Or not. Like after the attack, I did it more often, and for longer times. I went five days once. I know it’s not right for me to do this, that I’m really just hurting myself. Believe me, I know. Anyway, I was doing better. I wasn’t feeling as helpless and out of control as often. Then I got the subpoena. And it all came back to me.”
“How long?”
“Three days. That was the last time. Well, not including now.”
“So, that was…a couple weeks before the carnival?”
“Yeah. How did you know?”
“Well, we were working on that kinetic energy lab and you were making little mistakes. Like you really couldn’t concentrate. It wasn’t anything major, but something seemed off. To be honest…that was the first time that I noticed something was different about you.”
“Great.” I rolled my eyes.
“No, I mean, that there was more to you than what you showed in class. You were more… I don’t know. Complex.”
“I never considered myself simple, so I guess complex is good.”
“Yes, complex is good.” He grinned then became thoughtful. “And the other week? When your mom found out about the solo?”
“Yeah.” I admitted. “Not nearly as long. About a day and a half.”
“Hmm…I can’t believe I didn’t notice you not eating.”
“That was the idea. I was in control of it…me…what others saw or thought they saw.” I sighed. It was quiet for a couple minutes. “Wait, you didn’t answer my question. Actually, I didn’t get a chance to ask it.”
He grinned at me, “Well, since you are the captain of this ship, go ahead.”
I laughed, “Okay.” I took a bite of my food. “So, now, it’s your turn for the truth. I need the truth.”
“Always. I’ve never lied to you.”
“Ok. True. And I don’t want you to censor yourself. I want the whole truth.”
“Alright.” His eyes were open wide, there was no deception or reservation behind them.
“If I had told you earlier…about what happened…would you have come?”
“Of course. Did you think I wouldn’t?” I looked at him and shrugged my shoulders. “You couldn’t have stopped me. No one could have. The only thing I ever wanted was to be your friend. Nothing has or ever will change that. I don’t care what’s happened to you, that doesn’t change us.”
“I was afraid you’d abandon me, like my mom and dad did. Clearly, I’m not worthy of my parents’ love. If they are supposed to love me and don’t…or can’t because of what happened…how could I believe that I’m worthy of you? That I wouldn’t lose my best friend?” I bit my lip. The words came out before I could stop them.
He smiled, “And as your best friend, I would never leave you. You’re too…”
“Screwed up?” I interjected.
“That’s part of your charm.” He laughed. “No, silly, special to me.”
I didn’t know exactly what to say. It was weird to be at a loss for words for something good. “Thanks.” It felt good. I felt good. I smiled and finished up my egg roll.
The waitress came back, refilled our drinks and took away the empty plates. “How is everything? Do you need anything?”
“Good. Good.” Patrick told her. He looked at me and beamed a mischievous grin, “Another order of Cashew Chicken?” I shook my head. He turned back to the waitress, “I think we could go for some dessert wontons. You have got to try these!”
The waitress smiled, “They are really good. Sharing?” Patrick nodded. She turned and left. I finished up the last few bites of my chicken.
“So, how was your Cashew Chicken?” Patrick asked as he looked down at my empty plate.
“Real good. You were right, this place is good.”
“Ahh…one of my favorite phrases, ‘You were right.’” He laughed. “So, we have a few hours before our flight. What do you want to do?”
“Do?”
“Do. Go? We can’t exactly spend the next five hours sitting here. I don’t mind, but I think the restaurant might.”
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen much of San Francisco. My itinerary got interrupted last time I was here.” I shrugged with a little smile. “But I have seen one of the fine hospitals in the area. So, I think I can do without checking them out again.” The waitress returned with our dessert.
“Guess I’ll have to cross that off my list. How about the Exploratorium, Zoo, or art museum?” He offered me the first cream-cheese filled, sprinkled with cinnamon and sugar wonton.
“Sure. Those all sound good.” I took a bite of the wonton. “Wow! This is good!” I grabbed another one.
Patrick laughed. “I’m right again, huh?” He laughed louder. “Preferences?”
“No. Like I said, they all sound fun. I leave the choice in your hands, let’s see if you are three for three.” I laughed. “Have you been to any of them before?”
“Yeah. They are all great.”
“And your favorite? You have to have a favorite…”
He slyly grinned, “Yeah, I do. But you’ll have to figure out which one.” He looked at his watch. “We have time to go to at least two of them, maybe even all three, if we tried. You up for it? A whirlwind tour of the sights?”
“Sure. Sounds fun.”
Falling (Bits and Pieces, Book 1) Page 41