Someone Always Loved You
Page 7
When he could pull his mind from Jordan’s plight, he often thought about Madison’s conversation style. He remembered being in awe of her constant rattling when they first met. She could chatter for hours about everything and nothing. But among the ramblings, Madison was one of the wisest people he had ever met. Sometimes he had to dig through discussions about what it must be like to be a truck driver to find the gem, but he always found it. No matter what she said, Madison had a clear distinct point, even if she didn’t realize it. Jay had learned so many things about life and love from her onslaught of stories. He only wished he had met her sooner.
The pleasant thoughts faded away when Jay looked down at his tray, realizing where he was and why. The mottled brown tray held the remnants of his Jell-O and a half eaten chicken salad sandwich that would remain untouched. Guilt overwhelmed him yet again as he set down his spoon, forgetting the Jell-O. He wondered if his father had ever felt guilt like this. He may not have had a conscience at all, Jay thought.
* * * *
Jay’s father had adored Jay’s aunt, Jenny. Everyone thought her crazy except for Jay and his family. They saw only her good side and endured the low times that came with loving her. In his adult wisdom, Jay knew that his aunt had most likely been bi-polar, but at that time such a mental state was misunderstood and misdiagnosed more often than not.
When Jay was little, he reveled in his aunt’s loving affection. She would smother him with kisses and always give him her undivided attention. When Jenny was around Jay, she always seemed like the happiest, most fulfilled person in the world. She always surprised Jay at each visit with the toy he most wanted, and she visited often since she only lived a dozen miles down the road.
Jenny had many unexcused absences as well. She wouldn’t always arrive as promised, and when she failed to show, Jay’s dad would disappear, sometimes for days. Little did Jay know that these were the down sides to her personality disorder. She was lounging in bed, unable to swim through her depression long enough to even rise from beneath her covers. It was during those times that Jay’s father sat by her side, telling her stories while she cursed his existence and insisted on being left alone.
A few days later she would awaken to the afternoon sun glinting through her dark curtains and pounce on Jay’s father, her hair climbing toward the ceiling. Time after time she would come back to their family; the Jenny they all knew and loved.
Doctors tried various combinations of medications, but none were the right fit for Jay’s aunt. Most of the time the medication put her in such a haze she didn’t feel she could enjoy her good days. She would take the pills faithfully for a full week before she became tired of their various negative effects and toss them into her medicine cabinet with all of the others. Jay, though he was young and innocent, always knew when his aunt was on new medication. “Aunt Jenny is all fuzzy today, Daddy,” he remembered telling his father after a shortened visit from his aunt. He had rattled off all of his favorite characters in the newest cartoon show, and she hadn’t looked at him once. Staring into the distance with a glazed expression was characteristic for Jenny as she struggled with one medication or another.
Since Jenny had access to so many unutilized pills, Jay’s dad was constantly by her side to prevent suicide attempts that came all too often with her form of depression. He called her several times a day to be sure she was upbeat and thriving. If he noticed even a hint of sadness in her voice he would drop everything and stick to her like glue until he was sure she was okay.
As an adult, Jay wondered why they couldn’t find help for his aunt. He knew the doctors had tried medications of all types, but there had to have been something more that could have been done. There had to be somewhere they could have taken her to heal her inner torment. But as soon as Jay let these thoughts enter his mind, he dismissed them. His aunt would have rather perished than be confined, even if such facilities existed to heal her pain. No, she was better off at home, no matter how badly she suffered.
Jay tried to imagine a life with two extremes. Jenny only knew hyper happiness and deadly depression. She never felt any mediums. Despite her delightful good days, Jenny never found a man who would put up with her extremes. She lived alone and held occasional part time jobs, but Jay knew his father had supported many of her expenses. No matter how badly his parents wanted to shield him from Jenny’s issues, Jay was a very intuitive child, and he could often feel that she wasn’t quite right. Though such feelings never stopped Jay from enjoying every moment he had with his favorite and only aunt.
Days before Jay’s fifth birthday party, his aunt had arrived at their home with her arms full of gifts. She said she couldn’t wait until the big party, and Jay gladly dove into the pile of presents. She left that day with a friendly wave, but Jay barely noticed her disappearance over his distraction amidst the great new toys.
When she didn’t appear for his party, at first Jay was disappointed, but as the other guests arrived he quickly forgot adults of any kind. As the festivities continued, Jenny had interrupted Jay’s birthday party with her phone call. She was in a deeply depressed state and wanted to tell Jay’s father good-bye and thank him for always being there for her. That was when his father had rushed from the party. But this time he was too late. Jenny hadn’t even wasted the time to replace the phone in the cradle. Fully clothed, she had climbed into the bathtub and quickly made deep cuts in each wrist with a wooden handled steak knife.
It was evident to the adults in his family that Jay’s dad blamed himself for Jenny’s death. He felt it was his fault for not getting there in time to save her; his responsibility for not saying the right things to her on the phone when she had called. He should have seen it coming; all of the signs were there.
But all Jay saw was the gradual chipping away of his father and the arrival of a stranger who he would rather not know. His dad wore the smell of alcohol like cheap cologne and was never without a fresh bottle in his hand. He no longer played; he no longer had any joy. The look in his eyes was blank and uncaring as Jay did everything a five-year-old could to draw his former dad out of the man before him.
Jay’s most vivid memory of his father’s demise was of a bright fall evening. The leaves had changed from green to yellow and orange and had fallen from the trees. Jay had worked for an hour piling every leaf in the yard into one square foot in preparation for a great jump into the middle. He wanted his dad to join him, just like he used to. They would jump right into the center and throw the leaves around them until they had so many leaves stuck to their clothes they would collapse backwards onto the pile and giggle.
Jay tugged on his dad’s pants, elevated on the leg of the arm chair. His father strained to see around him to see the infomercial on television. He consistently raised his drink to his lips, taking long draws as Jay continued to tug. And then it happened. Jay’s father raised his foot away from Jay to release the boy’s hand from his pant leg. He glanced over at his son, waiting expectantly, and brought his foot back around, kicking the boy soundly on the shoulder. Jay fell over with a thud, surprise and shock hurting him more than the actual kick. He picked himself up and slumped outside to sit in the leaf pile alone. His father was gone, and the man inside was no friend.
Since his father had become a worthless lump, Jay’s mom had taken several jobs to keep the family afloat. Her bright, chipper smile and motherly touch was the only thing that got Jay through the days. But those moments became farther and farther apart as their family’s bills piled up on the kitchen table, and his mom took extra hours to combat the growing problem.
Most days Jay was left to get himself to and from class. The school wasn’t far, but teachers started noticing his unmatched socks and backwards shirts. As young as he was, Jay knew school was his only refuge, so he was always the last kid to put on his coat and head for home.
When he did arrive at home, the scene was the same. His father would drink, ignore him, and stare at the TV or sometimes just the blank screen. It wasn’t un
til Jay entered the second grade that the routine changed. When Jay got home from school, glancing expectantly into the living room for his immobile father, he found the dark brown chair empty. Jay searched the house but found no evidence of his dad. His possessions were there, he wasn’t.
Panicking, Jay phoned his mother at work, and she rushed home. She started a network by calling all of their family and friends to inquire about her husband. With no luck, she left Jay by the phone and grabbed her keys to search the city streets.
Three hours later, Jay was still planted next to the phone when she returned with a man somewhat resembling his father. She had thrown his arm around her neck and was half carrying him through the door. Jay quickly stood and placed his dad’s other arm around his own short neck, taking a tiny bit of the weight from his mother as they shuffled him into the room.
This became the new pattern. Every few months, his father would disappear. Jay would call his mother, and she would return his dad to the brown chair within a few hours.
Jay grew and concentrated on school. If he knew anything, it was that he wanted out of that house as soon as possible. He knew the best way to get out fast was through his studies. He never felt as smart as the straight A students, but he studied hard and worked even harder, always garnering one of the highest test scores in each class.
Once Jay got his driver’s license, he took over his mother’s job of searching for his elusive father. The first time he was just two days over sixteen. It had taken him a good five minutes to convince the station wagon to start, but it finally gave in to his persistence. Jay hadn’t called his mother this time. She had looked dead on her feet that morning before heading to her second job, and each line on her face was deeply etched from worry. She didn’t need another night of panic.
Jay took it upon himself to be the man of the house, but his hands had already begun trembling slightly as he backed out of the cracked driveway to begin the search. He had no idea where to look so he headed downtown and drove up and down every street, slowly gazing between each building. It wasn’t a large town, and Jay knew the streets well, though it was his first time driving the area solo.
As he rounded the corner of the last one way street, he spotted a caramel color in the gutter ahead. Squinting to bring it into focus, Jay planted his foot on the accelerator, racing toward the form. He had recognized his dad’s jacket from nearly a block away. Passing a liquor store and a bar, Jay squealed to a stop in front of the jacket, filled with the shell of the man he used to call Dad.
Jay didn’t know how his father had gotten there. He could only guess that he somehow searched out the bar or the liquor store and drank himself unconscious. Maybe he got thrown out after starting a fight in the bar or protesting when the liquor store manager wouldn’t sell him any more alcohol. It didn’t matter.
Jay hoisted the man, once so strong and alive, onto his shoulder. He could feel the bones of his father’s hip digging into his flesh as he opened the back car door and maneuvered the limp man onto the back seat.
Jay shook his head. His father’s breathing was ragged but steady, his pulse slow but strong. He was going to be fine. As fine as he could be at least.
Jay left the house the minute he turned eighteen. He only wondered once who would find his father now that he was gone. He felt guilty for leaving his mother with the mess his dad had become, but she worked hard and could support herself. She could leave anytime she wanted. Jay only wished she had left years ago so they would have some good memories instead of always having to dwell on the bad ones.
Jay worked to put himself through college just as he had high school. He wasn’t the smartest student, but he was the hardest worker, and he earned the respect and praise of each professor. A few months after he began college, his father disappeared. This time no one searched for him. No one dragged him from the gutter and returned him to his brown chair.
By the time Jay met Madison online, he had nearly forgotten about the old man. He had friends that he considered his family and school that he considered his career. He was happy. After their first date, he knew he could never tear himself away from that girl. If he hadn’t been so intent on finishing school and making a life for himself, he probably would have dropped out and moved to an apartment close to her dorm. He was smitten. His world had shrunk to include nothing but Madison, not even his father.
* * * *
Madison and Jay’s last year of school flew by as they talked on the phone every night and emailed constantly. Weekends began by driving to visit her or waiting for her to arrive. They giggled like school children, told stories late into the night, and discovered a kind of love that neither of them knew existed.
Madison taught Jay to see the humor in almost any situation, especially those that resulted in embarrassment, and Jay taught Madison to logically reason herself out of almost any dilemma. They were complementary in just the right ways and had so much in common that there was never a dull moment when they were together.
As graduation loomed, their late night phone discussions drifted toward the future. They beat around the bush for an hour before fully delving into the subject.
“What do you want to do after college?” one would say.
“I don’t know, what do you want to do after college?” the other would answer.
After an hour of avoiding the topic at hand, Madison finally answered the question in a new way.
“I want to be with you, Jay,” she said quietly, unsure of his reaction.
“I want to be with you too,” Jay answered, trying to keep his excitement under control.
Those admissions began the heavy conversation about the future. Jay and Madison discussed dream houses…hers was a quaint ranch, his a spacious two story. They talked about children…he wanted two, she said, “The more the merrier!” And they determined how they would make a living. It was the first time in months of endless conversations that they had broached the subject of the future, and they hung up in the early morning hours with a feeling of exhilaration. No solid plans were in place, but a silent agreement had been made. Jay and Madison would be together.
Since Jay had been the friend and confidant of nearly everyone in his class, it wasn’t a surprise when the seniors voted Jay their spokesman, giving him the opportunity to speak at their graduation. Madison was thrilled and helped Jay prepare what he would say on the big day. Her graduation, luckily, had been the day before, so they were able to see each other receive their diplomas.
Jay let Madison help with the speech, but he had a plan in mind. Sure, he would use parts of what she developed--the typical silly memories and well wishes--but he had something else he wanted to say, something very important.
Jay stepped to the podium, clearing his throat and unfolding the prepared speech. After the greeting and the normal reminiscent comments, Jay wished his fellow classmates luck. With that, he balled up the pages of the speech and threw them over his shoulder. Removing the microphone from the stand attached to the podium, he swung its wire around to the front and stepped out further onto the stage.
“With that said,” Jay began, hands clammy with the nerves that automatically appear in front of a large audience, “I’d like to personally thank my girlfriend, Madison, for her role in my college career. Madison, would you stand up please?”
As the crowd cheered and whistled, Madison’s eyes slowly moved from side to side. What is he doing? She thought. She couldn’t very well hide now, so she slowly stood, a surprised half smile on her face. After waving generically to the crowd behind her, she swiveled back to the stage to face Jay and give him a warning look. When her eyes reached the place on the stage, she had to adjust her gaze because Jay was no longer standing.
Down on one knee, Jay said, “I got through my last year of college with you, and I don’t want to even imagine the rest of my life without you. Maddy, will you marry me?”
All eyes were riveted on Madison as she rushed from her seat and bolted for the stage. Wrapping he
r arms around his ankles (which was all she could reach), Madison’s answer was clear to everyone in the auditorium. Jay leaned forward to place a finger beneath her chin, raise her face, and wipe a tear from her cheek.
“So is this a yes then?” he asked joyfully.
“Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!” she blurted.
It was like the end of a movie. They kissed as the onlookers cheered.
For Jay and Madison, this was just the beginning. Jay landed a job in the accounting department of a distributing company. It wasn’t his dream job, but he was just out of college, and it paid well. He and Madison began their wedding plans. Jay tried to stay in the background of the plans to let Madison choose the details, but she insisted he have a say in the flower arrangements, the cake decorations, and even the attendants’ gowns. The only decision Madison refused to let Jay influence was whether or not to invite his mother. Since his father had disappeared, Jay talked with her monthly but had not visited her in three and a half years. He no longer felt welcome in his childhood home. Jay thought that inviting his mother would only upset her and make her think of the days she had been happily wed. She was in a calm routine, and the last thing Jay wanted to do was upset her life any further. But Madison insisted that any mother would at least want to know about her child’s wedding. She thought it would be cruel to exclude Jay’s mother, and she outright refused to bend. Jay, of course, relented to his future bride but was relieved when the response card returned with the “regrets” box checked.
Before they knew it the day had arrived. Jay went about his normal routine, trying to forget that his life would change forever later that afternoon. Not because he wasn’t looking forward to making Madison his wife, but because he was afraid his nerves would prevent him from enjoying his last few “single” hours. Jay was enjoying a long swallow of milk straight from the carton when an abrupt knock caused him to dribble the liquid from both sides of his lips. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Jay replaced the now empty carton in the fridge and headed to the door.