Marionette

by T. B. Markinson

  “Oh, I wish. No, Richard was flying out this morning to New York to meet with the client, so we had to have it done before his flight.” She glanced at her watch. “Which he should be boarding in another hour or so. I had to drive the presentation to the airport. Trust me, Paige, they don’t pay me enough.” She marched back into the kitchen and took a swig of her beer.

  I followed meekly. It all sounded believable, but something was gnawing at me.

  Jess scrutinized my face. “Are you hungry? I’m famished. Let’s head to Denny’s. My treat.”

  I wasn’t going to turn down a hot meal. Denny’s wasn’t a five-star restaurant, but it was heads above dorm food.

  “You’re on. I can’t wait to tell you about this party I went to last night.”

  She leaned in and gave me a peck on the cheek. “Even if you were checking up on me, I’m glad to see you.”

  “I wasn’t spying. I was worried.” I defended.

  She patted my arm. “I know. That’s what I love about you.”

  * * *

  After the zombie of a hostess seated us, I scanned the menu. Just looking at the laminated pictures of French toast, ham, bacon, pancakes, and hash browns made me salivate.

  “Do they feed you up there?” Jess peered over her menu. “You look like you’re about to devour your menu.”

  “The food is shit there, and my roommates keep invading my emergency stash. I never feel full anymore.” I continued to scrutinize the menu.

  Jess pulled out a wad of twenties. “Well, you can eat until you can’t eat any more.”

  “What’d you do, rob a 7-Eleven on the way home from the airport?” I gawked at the rolled-up notes.

  “Yes.” She looked deadly serious.

  I fidgeted in my chair.

  “Paige, I’m just kidding.” She whacked me on the head with her menu. “Richard gave me a bonus for working all night.”

  I thought she said she didn’t get paid enough by them.

  Our waitress approached. “What’ll you want?” she asked rudely, glancing at her watch. I wondered how much longer until her shift was over.

  Jess ordered a Tex Mex omelet and I started with their biggest breakfast: eggs, bacon, ham, pancakes, and hash browns. I also asked for a chocolate malt.

  “Will that be enough for you? Nice touch with the malt.” Jess winked at me.

  “Hey man, I don’t like to waste opportunities.” I gestured to the cash in her purse.

  “So tell me about the party. I miss college.” She got a faraway look in her eye. “The working world is no fun.”

  “Really? So far, I’m not seeing why people say it’s the best time of your life. All people do is drink and make fools of themselves.”

  Jess laughed heartily. “That’s the fun part, Paige. Trust me, when you finish and join the rat race, you’ll miss those days. Gosh, you are such a fuddy-duddy.”

  “I am not! I just don’t understand it. Take Karen, she’s determined to bag a boyfriend by the end of the semester. Why?”

  “Is she cute?” Jess sipped her water.

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  Jess threw her straw at me. “You better behave while you’re up there.”

  I knew she was only joking, but I decided then that she could never find out about Tom.

  “So, if Karen’s cute, why can’t she find a boy?”

  The waitress set my chocolate malt in front of me. Before I had a chance to dig in, Jess jabbed her finger into the whipped cream and licked her finger. I almost forgot what I was saying.

  “Oh, I think it’s because she farts a lot. And she’s a jock. She and Jenna are on the basketball team. She’s girlie, but also masculine, if you get my meaning.”

  Jess nodded. Our food arrived; that was an advantage to getting to Denny’s so early in the morning: you didn’t have to wait long.

  I reached for the maple syrup and started to douse my pancakes, bacon, and ham. Jess poured Tabasco on her omelet.

  “How can you stomach that much Tabasco?”

  “I like to live on the edge.” She shook a few more drops out.

  We ate in silence because I was too busy shoveling food in. After several minutes, Jess mentioned that Mel called for me.

  “Do you think she wants more money?”

  A look of concern marred her lovely face. “Yes. You can count on that.”

  I leaned back from the table. “Sometimes I feel as if Mel treats me like I’m her personal ATM. Like I owe her somehow.”

  “She’s going through a lot right now…‌and…”

  “And, what?”

  “Oh, it’s nothing.”

  I could tell it was something.

  “Come on, Jess. What?” I set my fork down and braced for the news.

  “She feels guilty.”

  “Guilty? About what, taking my money?”

  Jess stirred her food around on her plate, not looking at me. “I’m sure she feels bad about that too, but she feels guilty about…” She motioned to my arm.

  “That I tried to kill myself?” I fished.

  “Sorta.”

  “Jess, you’re killing me. What did she tell you?”

  The waitress stopped by to ask how the food was. I didn’t respond, but Jess said everything was wonderful and ordered another coffee.

  I lowered my head and asked quietly, “What did Mel say?”

  I knew I wasn’t going to like what I heard. Why else would Jess take so long getting it out? That wasn’t like her. Quick, like a Band-Aid, was her usual method.

  “She thinks we should tell your parents.”

  “What?” I shouted. The only other people in the restaurant turned and stared.

  Jess put a finger to her lips to shush me. “I knew I shouldn’t have told you.”

  “Why in the hell does she think she should tell them, of all people?” I threw my arms up in the air.

  Jess waved her fork in the air. “Oh, you know how close Mel is with her parents. She still lives with them. She thinks if your parents knew about”—‌she motioned to my scars again—‌“they would be nicer to you.”

  “What kind of logic is that?”

  “Mel logic,” Jess confessed sheepishly.

  “She…” my voice quavered.

  Jess looked startled. “Oh, no. She hasn’t said anything to them. And she won’t, Paige. I talked to her and she won’t say anything.”

  “How can you be so certain?”

  Jess reached across the table and rubbed my scar where it emerged a little from my shirt. “Paige, you have to trust me on this. Besides, what can you do about it? It’s not like you can hire some dude named Guido to teach her a lesson.”

  I shivered.

  “I want to go home.”

  Jess reached into her purse and walked up to the register to pay the bill. While she did, I went to the car and sat in the passenger side. Usually, I drove, but I didn’t have the energy. I leaned my head against the cool window. Condensation trickled onto my forehead.

  Jess slid into the driver’s seat without any protest. When we got back to the apartment, I took a shower—‌a long, hot shower. My shoulders were tense and I wanted to wash all the filth off me. I hadn’t showered after the party, and all of a sudden I felt like I was drowning in shit.

  By the time I was done, my body was parboiled. I didn’t bother getting dressed, just walked out to the front room in a towel. Jess looked deflated.

  “Paige, everything is going to be okay. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  I didn’t speak, just sat on the couch, utterly drained. Jess didn’t know the full truth. No one did.

  “Listen, I worked all night, and I’m betting you didn’t get much sleep. Let’s go to bed and get some rest.”

  I nodded.

  As I closed my eyes, I heard thunder off in the distance and then a streak of lightning lit up the room. My mind flashed back to that night. Alex screaming like a madwoman. I didn’t want to become like that. What would I do if the police
came to take me away to one of my father’s hidden gems? Actually, he would probably be more subtle and have someone snatch me from the street, like those kids you see on the back of milk cartons. Boom. Done! And no one would be the wiser. Oh, Jess would look for me, but there’s no way in hell my father would leave a trail of any type. Then my mother would get involved. She was the real threat.

  The fucking rich—‌they can do anything.

  I rolled over and hid my face in Jess’s arm. She felt warm. Alive. Even after working all night, I felt the vitality that always emanated from her. She could go for days without sleeping and not be any worse for it. I longed to be more like her. Confident. Brave. Assured. Happy to be alive. She was like Elie Wiesel.

  When she said she wouldn’t let anything happen to me, she meant it. But even Jess didn’t know what she was up against when it came to my parents.

  My mom flashed before my mind: her manic laugh, the shake of her fist. “Watch yourself, Paige, or I’ll do it to you too.”

  I buried my head further into Jess’s and she held me tighter.

  Not even Jess could save me.

  Alex, I know you tried to warn me. If I had only listened that night. We should have run away. We should have left.

  It had been raining that night as well. I’d seen Alex shouting through the deluge, “Let’s go, Paige. We have to get away from them!” She had pulled on my arm frantically. She’d been so hysterical, and Alex was always the calm one. The smart one. Level-headed, even.

  I had just thought she was having a bad trip and that in the morning everything would be okay.

  I was wrong.

  Alex was dead.

  And I would be next if I wasn’t careful.

  The pitter-patter of rain on the skylight made me cringe. I had to fight the urge to jump out of bed and leave. To keep moving. To never come back. I knew it was harder to hit a moving target.

  Jess snored gently next to me. She was all I had. Mel was out of touch with reality—‌why did she want to tell my parents? After everything I’d told her. Minnie and all of them, I really didn’t give two shits about. There was Julia, but she wasn’t enough to keep me in town.

  But Jess.

  I loved and trusted her implicitly. I couldn’t leave.

  I had to pretend for three and a half years. I could get through school, and Jess could finish her MBA, and then we would get the fuck out of Dodge.

  New York City maybe? Or London.

  Shit, Jess spoke three languages and soon-to-be four. We could live anywhere.

  I just needed to hold on for three and a half years.

  * * *

  After our much-needed nap, Jess and I wandered into Julia’s for lunch. I hadn’t eaten much of my breakfast and by this point, I was famished. No one made a crack when I ordered two sandwiches, fries, and baked beans. If my metabolism ever slows down, I’ll be screwed.

  Before I had demolished my first sandwich, Mel walked in. Jess’s entire body tensed, but Julia hopped up and gave her a “mom” hug. Mel avoided looking in Jess’s direction and sat down right across from me. I felt Jess’s eyes on me; they said, “Don’t say anything. Be cool.”

  How could I not say anything? I wanted to tell her to go to hell, that what she contemplated was idiotic. Did she want me dead? Then buy me a gun so I could do it—‌on my terms, not on theirs. No more strings.

  My parents would never see the light and realize how awful they’ve been to me. I didn’t matter to them. All they wanted was a servant. Now that I was out of the house, my usefulness was expended. Yes, my father still had to pay for my school, but I bet he kept a running tab of all of the money I’d cost him since the day I was born. I half expect to see a bill once I “make” it. He probably knows just how many boxes of diapers I went through, and how many rolls of toilet paper I’ve used to wipe my ass.

  Money. Plain and simple. My folks spoke in terms of money. Will this make me money? Will this cost me money? I was a cost—‌an expensive liability. And in business, that meant I needed to be cut.

  Jess kicked me under the table and I did my best to erase any trace of loathing from my face.

  “What’s up, Mel?” I tried to sound normal.

  Jess gave me a nod of approval.

  Mel looked away. “Not much. How’s school?”

  “Oh, it’s going well. I’m starting to make some new friends.”

  Jess’s swift kick under the table made my knee smack into the table and upset my water glass.

  “Paige! I’m so sorry that old knee injury is acting up, huh.” Jess grabbed some napkins from the holder and began to wipe up the water.

  Julia eyed me out of the corner of her eye, and then searched Jess’s face.

  “How’s work going, Mel?” Jess asked as she set the sopping napkins off to the side.

  Mel didn’t answer right away. She was seething; I could tell. What did she have to be upset about? Had Jess told her she was a ninny? If so: good. At least one person in my life had some sense and was looking out for me.

  I flashed Jess a loving smile and she winked at me. I could feel her tension melting away, and mine with it.

  “Are you getting geared up for the Christmas season?” I put out there as a peace offering.

  “Not yet, thank goodness. Last season nearly killed me.” Mel still avoided looking at Jess, which wasn’t that hard since they sat on the same side of the table. However, I noticed that Mel kept her body pivoted to avoid any chance of seeing Jess, even out of the corner of her eye.

  “Well, if you need help with anything outside of work, let me know. I’m always willing to help. And Paige tells me I can whip up a fabulous meal in seconds.”

  Jess was trying. Really trying. Why?

  “By whip up, she means she calls me and orders home-cooked meals.” Julia laughed.

  “Julia! That was a secret!”

  I chuckled. “If you want to keep it secret, you should throw out the wrappers that say ‘Julia’s Kitchen.’”

  “Now you tell me!” Jess slapped her forehead.

  The three of us laughed, but Mel just looked miserable. I got the feeling she wanted to talk to me in private, but I wasn’t going to let that happen. My bank account was dangerously low, and my father wouldn’t put any more money in until the first of the month. It was only the twenty-fifth.

  Jess kept chattering away and Julia, who I don’t think knew the true story, did her best to keep things cheerful. I continued eating my lunch while Mel sulked in her chair. Every time she attempted to catch my eye, I focused my attention on Jess.

  When I stood up to use the toilet, Jess bounced out of her seat to join me. Her panic made me want to laugh so hard I nearly peed my pants. Did she think Mel would lock me in the can until I handed over my wallet? The image made me smile because there was no money in my wallet anyway. Thank goodness Jess had paid for breakfast, and I knew Julia wouldn’t give me a bill. I would catch up with her the next time I was in town.

  The charade didn’t last much longer. Mel gave up and left, empty-handed. At one point, I thought she was going to ask for money right in front of Jess and Julia, but then she saw my scars and looked away quickly.

  “Do you mind telling me what that was about?” demanded Julia.

  “Beats me.” I said as honestly as possible.

  “I don’t want Mel asking Paige for any more money,” proffered Jess, which was partly true. She also didn’t want me blowing through my cash. She feared that Mel would turn against me and run to my parents to get even.

  “How much money have you given her, Paige?” Julia’s concern showed on her face.

  “Over six hundred this month alone.”

  She whistled threw her teeth. “I had no idea. Okay, next time I’ll do my best so Paige won’t be alone with her either. I love Mel to bits, but this Wesley is bad news. She needs to learn that.”

  Jess gave Julia a squeeze. “I knew we could count on you.” She looked more relieved than I did, which puzzled me. Usually, Je
ss was calm and collected. But ever since she had told me about Mel, she was frazzled. It made me wonder whether Jess secretly felt she didn’t have Mel under control and she was doing her best to reel Mel in fast.

  I admired her dedication to me.

  As Julia cleared our dishes, I turned to Jess and asked, “What foreign flick can I take you to today?” I wanted to repay her for her devotion.

  “Actually, there’s a new exhibit at the Denver Art Museum. Van Gogh.”

  Ugh. Museums gave me the creeps, but I didn’t let on. “Cool. He’s the dude who cut off his ear. Maybe he’s my long-lost soul mate.” I flashed my wrists.

  She leaned across the table to kiss me. “Don’t even start with me, missy.”

  Jess had me. I was putty in her hands. And she knew it.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Wearing a grey suit and blood-red blouse, Liddy rushed into the room five minutes late. Her expression said, “Don’t give me shit today.”

  I wondered what it would be like to work with clients like me every day. Let’s face it, I tried to off myself, so I couldn’t be that much fun to hang out with. And suicidal ideation seemed to be her specialty. Why? Had someone she loved committed suicide? Had she made a promise to herself to help others? Or did she love being around self-absorbed assholes like me? I shuddered at the thought of having her job.

  “What was that for? Are you cold?” She eased into her chair and retrieved her pencil and notepad from the desk.

  I motioned to the notepad. “What do you write down?”

  “Little things, really. Like, you mentioned once I should have pursued a bike accident you had when you were little, so I have a note to explore that further.”

  “Is that what you want me to talk about today?”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “Not particularly.”

  “What would you like to talk about then?” She smiled, knowing what my answer would be.

  “Well, that seems to be the issue, Doc. I don’t like to talk about things.”

  “No, really?”

  I was starting to like her. Maybe this therapy thing wasn’t so bad. I thought she would demand to know every secret I had and would push and push until I revealed all, but she wasn’t like that. Maybe her sweetness was just a way to dupe me into talking. And it helped that she was drop-dead gorgeous. Pardon the pun.