by Howe, Violet
When I opened the door to a dark and silent house, my fears multiplied and diversified. Was something wrong with him? Was he ill? Had something happened to him? Had he been abducted? Where was Deacon? Why was he not doing his customary dance between my feet and around my legs? Had something happened to them both? I even thought for a moment the gas had been left on and they’d passed out, but then I remembered all our appliances are electric. Carbon monoxide maybe?
I opened the door to our bedroom tentatively and hopefully. Please let him be in bed asleep. Please let him be sick. Not deathly ill or anything. But too sick to call me and too sick to answer his phone. Still madly in love with me, though.
The jeans he’d worn to work were tossed across the rocking chair in the corner. His work shoes were in the closet. His phone lay on the top of his dresser, dead as a doornail. I grabbed it and plugged it in to charge as I surveyed the room for any other clue.
The front door opened before I could solve the case. Deacon bounded down the hallway and nearly knocked me down in his post-walk state of euphoria.
Of course. He’d taken Deacon for a walk after getting home from work. His daily routine. I hadn’t thought of it in my panic since he’d not followed any other daily routines so far.
I peeked out of the bedroom and down the hall but there was no sight of him. Why hadn’t he followed Deacon to greet me? To seek me out and ask about my day? To tell me what was up and why he’d gone AWOL again.
Deacon took off running at the sound of the pantry door opening, ready to get his post-walk treat. I followed him at a slower pace and with less enthusiasm, not sure if I was getting a trick or treat.
Cabe stood in the kitchen in a T-shirt and running shorts, covered in sweat and dripping on the floor.
“You ran?” I asked, so shocked that it temporarily pushed all other thoughts from my head. As athletic and active as Cabe is with most other sports, he absolutely loathes running. He has often joked that if I see him running, I’d better look to see who’s after him. “Who’s chasing you?”
I asked partially in jest, but a good deal serious. Something was wrong. Off. I didn’t yet know what, and I hadn’t let go of the fear it might be me.
He grimaced and drained a bottle of water before wiping his face with a towel. “I’m gonna hit the shower.” He stepped around me without so much as a glance. No hug. No kiss. No hi honey, how was your day. Not that I wanted a sweat-drenched smelly hug anyway, but I was dying inside.
“Want to talk about your day?” I asked from the bathroom doorway.
“After dinner.”
Okay, so we were having dinner together. That was a good sign, right? I mean, undoubtedly he wouldn’t fix dinner and sit down to eat with me and then break up or kick me out. Right?
I hated the uncertainty. I hated feeling vulnerable and not knowing what was going on. I hated feeling scared and weak and unsure of what to do or where I stood.
I tried to get angry. To tell myself that it was bullshit for him not to call or not to text and then not to tell me what was wrong when I saw him. But fear gripped my heart and punched me in the stomach and threatened my sanity.
He came back in the kitchen freshly showered and wearing nothing but a pair of shorts, looking hotter than a man should when you need to be mad at him.
“Why don’t you take a shower and I’ll make dinner?” He gave me a quick peck of a kiss, but he still didn’t make eye contact or hug me like he always does.
“What’s wrong? What happened?” I asked.
“Let’s talk after dinner. Go get cleaned up and I’ll cook.”
I hadn’t done anything I needed to get cleaned up from, but I didn’t know if I was ready to push the issue. I was scared of the answer. I shuffled to the bathroom and tried to get myself under control. No sense freaking out without knowing what was going on, right? Except my freak factor had already multiplied exponentially.
We ate in silence for a few minutes. Well, he ate. I picked at my food and tried to convince my stomach that throwing up would not help the situation.
“Deacon’s in the trash,” I said with a point of my fork.
“Deacon! Get out of there!” Cabe got up and put the trash can on the counter, scowling at Deacon before he came back to the table.
“We need a trash can with a lid.”
“That one had a lid,” he said as he sat back down. “He ate it.”
“Okay, then we need to get a metal trash can. With a lid.”
He took a bite of his chicken and chased it with a gulp of wine.
“You gonna tell me?” I asked.
He tossed his napkin on the table and rubbed his eyes. “I’m sorry if I’m being a jerk, but I don’t really feel like talking about it.”
That statement did a few things. One, it told me that he probably wasn’t going to kick me out. In fact, my gut instinct told me the way he answered indicated that I wasn’t the issue at all. Something or someone else was. Which led me to my next point, which was if it’s not me and has nothing to do with me, why in the hell have you ignored me all day and gotten me all worked up and freaked out like a psycho for no reason?
The fear dam broke and anger flooded through.
“You don’t feel like talking about it? Really? You disappear again, not calling me, not texting me, not returning my calls or texts. You turn your phone off and basically don’t even acknowledge me when I get home, and all you have to say is ‘I don’t want to talk about it?’”
He looked at me in shock and then irritation. “C’mon, Ty. I don’t need this crap. I’ve had enough bullshit today. I’m sorry I didn’t call you, okay? I was dealing with something, and I wanted to be left alone. Can I not just be left alone sometimes without it being the end of the world or the sky falling in?” He pushed his plate away and rested his forehead on his knuckles.
“What did you tell me when you came to my place the night you were supposed to go out with Monica? You said we have to be honest with each other. You said we have to talk things through. You were upset that I turned my phone off. Sounds a bit hypocritical to me.”
“I didn’t turn my phone off. It died.”
“And you didn’t charge it?”
“Ty, I really don’t want to talk right now. Can we just finish dinner without having some huge discussion?
I held up my left hand and pointed to the ring. “Do you see this? Do you remember giving me this? Because it came with a promise. Several of them actually. You don’t get to shut me out and you don’t get to withdraw and not talk about issues that are eating at you. This ring right here says you have to let me in.”
He leaned back in the chair and stared at the ceiling. “I realize that, but you also said if I couldn’t talk about something, I was supposed to tell you that I was processing and wasn’t ready to talk. So this is me telling you I’m not ready to talk.”
He pushed his chair away from the table and went to the back porch, leaving his plate unfinished on the table.
I cleared the dishes and filled the dishwasher, unsure of where to go with what he’d given me. He was right. I had said that. I had told him he could tell me he needed time to think. But I sort of thought that meant he’d return my calls and return my texts and let me know something was going on.
I pushed open the back door and stepped out onto the porch as I dried my hands.
“I get that you need time, but when you disappear like that it scares the shit out of me. I thought we were back where we were before.”
He turned and looked up at me from where he sat on the edge of the porch. He extended his arm and I sat down beside him. He pulled me next to him, his bare skin radiating heat in the humidity of the evening along with the emotions racing through him. He kissed the top of my head and then nudged my face up to look into his.
“I didn’t mean to scare you. I’ve told you I’m not going anywhere, and it never occurred to me that you might think otherwise. Hello? We’re getting married. We’re living in the same house. I�
�d think those commitments would attest to the fact that I’m all in and you have nothing to worry about.”
I pulled back from him. “So why didn’t I hear from you today?”
“Honestly, I didn’t think about it. I was mad. I was pissed. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I don’t mean that against you and it’s not about you. I just needed to be by myself. So I left work and drove out to the beach and then I came back here to take Deacon for a run and get dinner started since I knew you’d be home soon.”
“You left work? You went to the beach? What happened? Why didn’t you at least tell me you were leaving?” My anger flared back up.
“I would have, but I had my phone in my pocket when I dove in the ocean. It went black. I’m hoping it will work when it dries out.”
“Oh, no! I plugged it in. Should I unplug it?”
He stood and went inside to get the phone. “We need to get rice,” he said when I came in our bedroom to find him inspecting the phone. “You’re supposed to let it sit in rice for a few days and then hopefully it will come back on.”
I sat on the bed and stared at him. Still pissed but relieved we weren’t breaking up.
He came and sat beside me and took my hand in his. “I’m sorry. I screwed up. I should have called you and told you before I left the office. I didn’t mean to worry you.”
I looked away from him.
He brought my hand to his lips and kissed it. “Jeffrey called this morning.”
“Jeffrey?” I asked.
“My brother?” He made air quotes with his fingers as he said it, adding to the sneer of sarcasm in his tone.
“Oh! Jeffrey. Holy shit. Why?”
“He said we need to talk and he wants to meet with me.”
“What did you tell him?”
“Nothing. He left a voice mail, and I turned my phone off.”
“Well, thank God I wasn’t dying on the side of the road somewhere. Did it ever occur to you while you were hiding out from Jeffrey”—I used his air quotes for sarcastic emphasis—”that I might have needed to talk to you? Me? Your fiancée?” Air quotes again because I was on a roll.
He stood up and paced the floor like a tiger awoken. “I’m sorry, Ty. I just can’t deal with them. Why can’t they get through their heads that I want nothing to do with them? Why can’t they leave me the hell alone? I’ve been more than clear about my wishes in the matter, and they all just seem to ignore that. Galen opened Pandora’s box, I swear.”
I didn’t have anything to contribute, which was a good thing since he wasn’t done.
“I didn’t mean to shut you out. Or disappear, or whatever you said. I know that’s screwed up on my part, and I’m sorry. I don’t know what it is, but thinking about them or dealing with them sends me in such a funk. I spent my entire life trying to forget my father existed, and now I feel like everyone keeps throwing it in my face that not only is he alive and well, but the reason I needed to forget him is, too. Why should I talk to Jeffrey? Why? What could he possibly have to say to me that I need to hear?”
“You won’t know until you hear him out.”
He whirled around and frowned at me. “See? That’s why I didn’t want to talk to anyone. Right away, you’re taking his side.”
I gasped, mouth wide open in shock. “I’m not taking anyone’s side! And if there’s a side to take, I’ll be on yours. But you don’t even know why he called.”
“I don’t care why he called. I don’t want to talk to him.”
I took a deep breath and smoothed my hand over the comforter, tracing the wisteria flower print with my fingers. “Cabe, I know you hate this. But the fact is this other part of your family exists. Gerry exists. Jeffrey and Julie exist. You may not want anything to do with them, but you can’t stop them from existing and you can’t control whether or not they want to contact you.”
“That’s ridiculous. If I don’t want to be contacted, isn’t that my right? Can’t I decide who I want to converse with?”
I wasn’t sure there was a right answer to give him, and I certainly didn’t feel I was qualified to determine what it was. But I was all he had at the moment, so I tried.
“You have the right to say what you want in your life, but they have the right to say what they want in theirs. If Jeffrey wants to talk to you about something, he has the right to reach out.” I put up my hand to stop his protest. “You have the right to refuse, most definitely. But I think you need to look at this a different way.”
He leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms, his pectoral muscles flexing under the tension, along with his jaw.
“You said that dealing with them puts you in a funk. Sends you in a spiral. I think if you want to move past this, you gotta take away its power. This thing with Gerry has affected you your whole life. The more you run from it, the more power you give them to affect you. Think about me, all those years after we first met. I let the pain of my failed relationship with Dwayne dictate my life.” He shifted his position and grunted in obvious disdain for the topic. “Hear me out. I left home and everyone I knew because of it. I kept you at arm’s length for years because of it. I even walled myself off from my own family and didn’t go back home to visit because of it. But once I faced it head-on, once I dealt with it and stopped running from it, I discovered it wasn’t as bad as I thought.”
I stood and went to him. “I realized that what I had in my head wasn’t even the truth. My relationship with Dwayne wasn’t the way my memories retold it. I’d built it up to be this huge thing that was overwhelming and crippling. It didn’t have to be.”
I reached for him and he shrugged me away, putting up his hands in protest.
“But, Ty, you’re talking about your family. Your home. These people aren’t my family. I don’t know them. I don’t care to know them. There’s nothing I’m missing out on here.”
“You don’t know that. Jeffrey could be a great guy. You’ll never know if you don’t give him a chance.”
He scowled at me and turned to go to the kitchen. “I’m sure he is a great guy,” he called over his shoulder. “He had a father and every opportunity made available to him. He had a house in the Hamptons and an Ivy League college education. He didn’t grow up a bastard.”
I followed him, hot on his heels. “You know what? You keep saying that like you lived in welfare housing, wondering where your next meal would come from or worried about a roof over your head. You went to college. You traveled all over the world. Your mother may have been a single mom, and I’m not knocking how hard she worked or the sacrifices she made, but give me a break. Your grandparents are basically millionaires. You wanted for nothing!”
“Except a dad. Money didn’t buy me a dad, did it?”
“Oh please. You are so much better off without that asshole in your life, and you know that as well as I do. I can’t begin to understand how much that must have hurt, or how it made you feel. But I can tell you this. You grew up loved and cared for. Your mom was there for you. Bill and Peggy were there for you. You were taught to surf and fish and play ball and play guitar. You had a sister and cousins and friends. You went to college and learned a profession and made a life for yourself. You turned out fine, Cabe! So get over it. Let it go. Move on and stop harboring all this resentment, this darkness, this bitterness that consumes you whenever it surfaces. The only person you’re hurting is yourself. Do you think Gerry gives a damn or loses a night’s sleep? Why should you?”
“You don’t understand what it’s like.”
I crossed my arms and rocked my weight to one leg, thrusting my hip out with every bit of attitude pulsing through me. “Excuse me? Are you listening to yourself? I don’t understand what it’s like not to have my daddy? Not to be able to have him at my school functions, my social events, or something as simple as sitting at the dinner table with me? I don’t know what it’s like to live in a single mom household? Really? You may want to think about that before you throw it out there. Because you aren’t the onl
y person with pain in your life, and you aren’t the only person who’s been disappointed by how things worked out.”
His eyes were sheepish when they met mine, and I raised both eyebrows and nodded. Like, yeah buddy. That’s right. You just stepped in it.
I softened my stance and walked closer to him. “My dad didn’t leave us willingly, so you’re right. I don’t know what that part of it does to you, and I can only imagine the pain it causes. But you have no idea what Jeffrey’s life was like, or even Gerry’s for that matter. It’s easy to judge someone based only on our own perceptions. It’s harder to listen to their side of the issue and reevaluate our own belief systems with new information. You don’t know what this guy wants to say to you. No idea why he’s calling.”
I rubbed my hands up and down his arms, leaning in close and making sure we held eye contact. “You can either keep running and fuel the fire it sparks inside you, or you can get it all out on the table and face it. Take its power and make it your own.”
He put his arms around me and sighed, his breath shaky as his body tensed and then began to relax. I squeezed my arms around his waist, burying my head in his chest and willing him to be strong enough to stand up to his demons.
He kissed the top of my head and rested his chin there.
“I’m sorry I worried you. I didn’t mean to.”
I nodded against his chest.
He dipped his head and whispered right against my ear. “I thought you knew I can’t live without you. I thought we established that pretty clearly. So take that out of your repertoire of crazy theories in case this happens again, okay?”
I looked up at him and tried to pull off my sternest expression possible. “This had better not happen again.”
He kissed me, and I kissed him back, trying to heal his wounds in any way I could so he could fight another day.
Friday, September 19th
Maggie called and said she had received proposals for the rehearsal dinner from her friend Sandy and wanted to stop by to discuss them.
Cabe had gone out shopping for suits with Dean, so I called her on my way home from my rehearsal to have her come over.