Natural Love

by S. Celi

  “God, I hate my life.”

  “I know.” I ran my hand through her hair, still a wavy mess from another night in my bed. “Why did I have to fall in love with the one person I am not supposed to have?”

  “WHAT?” SHE PULLED herself away from me a little. “You’re in love with me?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “I am. I love you, Avery Jackson. Real love.”

  She wiped another tear away from the left side of her face. “I love you, too. I think I always have.”

  I nodded at the building across the parking lot. “Never thought the first time I’d tell you that would be in front of a place like this.”

  Her lips broke into a sad smile. “You really love me.”

  “Yes. I love you, Avery. All of you.” I cupped her face with my hand. “No matter what happens, no matter what happened. It killed me when that happened to you. I felt so guilty.”

  “It wasn’t your fault.”

  I gulped as guilt and revulsion welled in my throat. Then I studied the woman in front of me, and the naked, raw way she looked at me. For three years, almost four, she had believed the best about me. She’d believed I was a good person. Maybe the worst part was I wanted her to believe that. I thought if we never discussed what happened to her in detail ever again, then I wouldn’t have to admit to myself, or to her, just how horrible of a person I could be.

  But as I stared at her in the car that day, I knew I couldn’t avoid it any more. If I really wanted a future with Avery, if I really loved her, she deserved to know the truth, the whole truth, about me.

  “You started drinking.” She paused, and her eyes searched my face. “And really, you started drinking a lot. Too much.”

  “I know I did,” I said, the words mixing with the disgust I carried in every part of myself. “It was my way of coping. My way of forgetting.”

  “You didn’t have to take on my problems like that,” she said. “But you were so different after that night.”

  I put a hand on her arm to stop her and she frowned.

  “What’s going on?” she said. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “I have to tell you something,” I said after a moment. “Something I haven’t ever talked about with anyone.” Again, I paused. The elephant in the room of our family had been asleep for years, and but now it needed to wake up. “Something about that night.”

  I didn’t take my hand off her arm, and Avery didn’t move. She just waited as the seconds stretched into hours.

  “What happened to you that night at the Omega party,” I said. “What happened to you is my fault. Mine.”

  Her eyes widened and one of her eyebrows shot up. “Your fault? What do you mean your fault? It was my fault.”

  I gripped her arm tighter. “No. I was there that night, at the party, remember?”

  She nodded. “Just because it was the same fraternity that you belonged to at Wharton. But hundreds of people were there. Everyone that we knew went to it, and we didn’t show up together.”

  “I know, but I saw you. We talked. Remember?”

  When she shook her head no, I shut my eyes, disgusted and angry with myself. I’d done this to her. Me. I helped ruin her. Now I needed to at least tell her. I owed her that much.

  “Spencer,” she said after another long pause, “what’s really going on? What are you really trying to tell me?”

  “I talked to you in the living room,” I said. “You were, I mean, you were drinking. So was I, but I thought, well, I thought you were okay. I misjudged.” I made a fist with my right hand. “I saw you talking to a guy, a douchebag-looking guy, by the stairs. He was bad news, and I knew it. I should have stopped him. I shouldn’t have let you leave. I should have found you.”

  “What?” She pulled away from me a little. “What are you trying to say?”

  “Avery, if I had known what would happen, if I hadn’t been such a dumbass, suck a fucking drunk, I would have taken better care of you that night. I would have. I should have.” I rubbed one hand over my face, but it didn’t make me feel any better. “Ever since that night, I’ve carried so much blame. So much responsibility. I wasn’t there for you, and you needed me. I failed you.” I slammed my fist on the car’s dashboard. “I fucking failed you, and what happened that night is all my fault.”

  Her reply didn’t come right away, but when it did, it came in one of the smallest voices I had ever heard on her lips.

  “It’s okay,” she said. “You didn’t know what was going to happen. How could you?”

  “I let you down.”

  “No, you didn’t.”

  I couldn’t bring myself to look at her anymore because the pain pierced every cell in my body. Avery was everything, and she had always been. I would never love anyone the way that I loved her. Who cared what other people said, what our parents said? I needed her.

  Only her.

  Too bad I had screwed it up before it had started. I didn’t deserve Avery Jackson. I never had.

  “When did you fall in love with me?” she said after another long pause.

  “A long time ago.” I allowed myself to look over at her. “Before the rape.”

  “Before?”

  “I didn’t know what it was at the time, but yes, I loved you before then.” I shook my head again. “Before I failed you.”

  “Was that what bothered you, all of this time? All of these years?”

  “I just wanted to forget it,” I said. “I wanted you to go back to the way you were before. I wanted to pretend it had never happened, and I wanted us to be free. But we never will be, will we? I couldn’t drink that away. I couldn’t make that disappear.”

  And then Avery leaned in and kissed me. Just once, but then when she pulled away I reached out for her again and kissed her back so fiercely that for a second I couldn’t breathe.

  When Avery pulled away from me, a sad smile decorated her face. “I forgive you. It wasn’t your fault. Please, Spencer. Please forgive yourself.”

  “I love you,” I said. “I don’t ever want you to hurt like that again. I want to protect you for the rest of your life.”

  She wiped a rogue tear from her face. “I wish you could.”

  “Let me try. Please, let me.”

  “Don’t ever leave me again.” She sniffled. “I had to spend two years away from you. I never want to go through that ever again.”

  “You won’t have to,” I said, and my lips found hers for another soft kiss. Then, though, I remembered where we were, and moved away from her again. “We have to talk to our parents. We can’t avoid it.”

  She nodded and didn’t bother to hide the resignation on her face. “I know. I’m still dreading it.”

  I pulled my phone out of my pocket, and it told me everything. Five missed calls from the house and two text messages from Linda decorated the home screen. “They’ve been trying too. Probably tried to call you, too.”

  Avery sighed. “I wish they would understand, but I don’t think they will.”

  The phone went back in my pocket. I didn’t need to wait until they called again because I already knew they would. In fact, I could have bet on it in Las Vegas and walked away a millionaire.

  “We have to talk to them,” I said. “Tell them something. We can’t avoid it anymore.”

  My stepsister took my hand. “If we go back to the house, this isn’t going to be pretty.”

  “The truth never is,” I said.

  THE HOUSE MIGHT have been silent when we walked in the front door, but I knew where we’d find Dad and Linda. The same place where family drama always played out during my life.

  The formal living room.

  I never went in there if I could avoid it. Funny how one room could be associated with so many negative memories. The room itself was perhaps the most imposing room out of all of the ones in Chadwick Gardens. Lots of blue silk damask, a few Rookwood vases that belonged at the Cincinnati Art Museum, dark wood furniture, and one large painting of our family that Dad had commissione
d right after he’d made his first ten million. Most of my life at the house happened away from this room, since everything about it smelled stale. Dad and Linda didn’t like it, and only used the room for guests they wanted to impress. And for times when they wanted to discuss important family issues with Avery and me.

  Like in fourth grade, when the teacher caught Avery cheating on the school placement tests for the gifted and talented. Or the time I stole $10 from Henry in fifth grade. And of course, the fallout from my DUI arrest and the one-car accident I caused that night on I-75. We had several talks in the living room then, most of which involved me listening to decisions that had already been made for me, like the application to the Peace Corps.

  “Ugh, I hate this.” Avery groaned. “I hate this. I can’t do this.”

  “Yes you can,” I said. “You have to. We have to. And we will.”

  All the blood had drained from Avery’s face before we walked in the house and I motioned for her to follow me into the living room. Her eyes still had red rims, and I had a foreboding feeling when I noticed that, because I would have bet money that no matter what Dad and Linda said to us, she’d cry again. And I hated seeing Avery cry.

  But sometimes that couldn’t be avoided, no matter what I did.

  “They’re in the living room, aren’t they?” she said under her breath as I closed the front door of the house. In the distance, I heard the air conditioner click on and rumble fresh, cold air through the house. “Why the hell are they making us do this in the living room? They hate us, don’t they?”

  “They might.”

  I took her hand. They already knew everything—at least, I could be sure Linda did. We didn’t have to hide anymore, and I wanted to hold onto something. I might as well hold onto Avery.

  Fifteen steps took the two of us from the front door to the living room, and when we walked in I saw what I expected. Linda sat in one wingback chair, wearing her blue cardigan and a thick strand of pearls that strangled her neck. Dad sat in the other one with the kind of scowl reserved for life’s most egregious offenses, one that ran deep and created extra creases in his aging skin. The cordless phone rested on the dark coffee table in front of them, the same phone he had used to call me after Avery and I had fled the house.

  Dad cleared his throat, and his eyes fell on our linked hands when we walked into the room. “I see.”

  “Dad.”

  “Sit, you two.” He motioned to the grey silk couch that sat across the coffee table from the chairs. I could count on one hand the number of times I had ever sat in those, and I had never done it with Avery in the opposite one. Being told to sit in on that couch always meant something bad would happen.

  Something very bad.

  Still, we both followed his orders. I sat in the side that faced Linda. Avery sat across from Dad. And we both knew better than to start this conversation. This discussion had to come from them.

  I had to admit, though, when Linda spoke first, it took me by surprise. In fact, I sat back further when I heard her quivering voice.

  “How long?” she said. “I’m going to ask you one time. How long has this been going on?”

  I OPENED MY mouth to answer, then shut it without speaking when I decided Linda had just asked us a rhetorical question.

  “Also, the staff wasn’t snooping,” Linda said, and waved her hand at the rest of the house. “This was a routine cleaning after our dinner party. And you all weren’t being very careful, were you?”

  “No,” Avery said, and a slight pink appeared on her cheeks.

  “Red panties.” Linda shook her head. “Of all the things they could find in Spencer’s room, they had to find your red panties.”

  “I know,” Avery said. “I’m sorry.” She nodded at me. “I mean that. We’re sorry.”

  “No, you’re not. Don’t lie to me. You’re not sorry.” Dad glared at me. “Neither is Spencer. I can tell just by looking at him.”

  “We hope this was a one-time thing,” Linda said. “One time, and one time only.”

  We didn’t reply. We didn’t look at each other either. One second passed. Two. Three. Five.

  “One time,” Linda repeated, her impatience now obvious. “Right? One time?”

  “One time,” Avery said, and then stopped talking because I held up my hand. She looked over at me with wide eyes and the blood drained from her face once again.

  “I thought it would be one time,” I said. “We tried to make it that. But the truth is, once it started, we couldn’t stop it. We didn’t want to stop it.”

  “Didn’t want to, or wouldn’t?” Linda grimaced as if she couldn’t believe she were asking these questions.

  “Both,” I said. “A little of both.”

  “What? What in the hell are you saying, Son? How long has this been going on? How long?” Dad said, his voice rising in volume with each question. “Since you got back? Has this been going on since you got back?”

  “Well,” I said.

  “Tread very carefully, Spencer,” he said, his voice firm and his eyes hard. “I want the truth. Once and for all. The truth. I demand it.”

  He must have realized how loud he sounded because he glanced at the doorway to the living room, as if he wanted to make sure Henry or another member of the staff didn’t walk in on this conversation. Meanwhile, Linda sniffled, then wiped a tear away from the left side of her face. She’d been doing that.

  “Stop crying, Mom,” Avery said.

  “I’m not going to stop crying. Not until you all come clean. How long has this been going on? Weeks?”

  “Not since I got back,” I said. “But for a while. A few weeks.”

  “A few weeks?” Dad said. No one could have missed the bitterness in his voice.

  “Yes,” I said. “We had feelings for each other before, but it didn’t go to this level until this summer.” I paused. “And I love her.” I took Avery’s hand. “I always have, and I always will.”

  “Love?” Dad snorted. “You don’t know anything about love, Son. Neither do you, Avery.”

  “What the hell does that mean?” I said, and at the same time, Avery stood from the sofa.

  “You don’t know anything about me!” she said. “Neither of you! You have no fucking clue if I know what love is, and you don’t know me!”

  “Sit back down,” Dad said. Avery complied with his order.

  “Why do you keep saying that?” Linda said. “That’s at least the second time I’ve heard that from your mouth today. Of course we know you. You’re my daughter. We live in this house together. We don’t have any family secrets.”

  “No family secrets?” I said. “That’s rich.”

  “Besides you two,” Linda said. “Besides whatever it is that’s going on between you two.”

  “That’s not true,” Avery said. “The Chadwick family is defined by secrets. There are enough secrets in this house to build a bridge to China.”

  “What?” Dad said. “We don’t have secrets. That’s not what this family is about.”

  Avery laughed without humor. “No secrets? Are you kidding me?”

  “Honey,” Linda said, then she shut her mouth when Avery put up her index finger.

  “This family has nothing but secrets.” Her voice rose with each word. “Ever since we were kids! We had to be perfect! We had do to everything right.”

  Dad and Linda answered her with a blank stare, and the awkward pause did little to break the tension.

  “And what about you, Mom? What about what happened with you? You were addicted to drugs! You went away for months. You needed help. And we never talked about it!” she yelled. “We never worked through it! We never talked about it. Never!”

  “Avery,” Linda said. “This doesn’t have anything to do with what happened with me.”

  “Yes, it does. It does! Can’t you see that? Don’t you understand?” Avery had never yelled this way. Her voice echoed through the stony silence of the living room as we all just stared at her. “I’m so
sick and tired, so damn tired of living with people who do nothing but keep secrets. You’re just as bad,” she said as she pointed to my father. “There’s so much you both don’t know because you have never bothered to face anything. So much pain in this family.” She nodded at me. “So much pain for the two of us.”

  “Enlighten us, dear daughter,” Linda said. “Since we’re getting everything out in the open right now. Enlighten us.”

  “WE’RE LISTENING,” DAD said. “There’s never been a better time to tell us than now.”

  His firm voice resonated through the room. It wasn’t just a command from him. He used that voice, the one he only used when we ticked him off or disappointed him. And in a way, that voice just pissed me off. Dad had no idea what he had just asked us to do. He had no idea what kind of pain was coming.

  “Look, Dad,” I said. “If you’re going to be an asshole about it, then we don’t have to tell you.”

  “Spencer!” Linda crossed her arms and squared her shoulders. “Show your father more respect than that. Especially right now. If you think you can hide something—something else from us, you’re wrong.”

  “Well,” I said, “with all due respect, Dad and Linda, you guys don’t have any idea. No clue. You have no clue how far this all goes.”

  “Enlighten us,” Dad said. “Son, we’re all ears.”

  “It’s not his story,” Avery said. “It’s mine.”

  All eyes and all attention fell on her. If the Chadwick family ever had a moment of reckoning, this was it. There we sat, a tableau of the perfect American family, but it was all a lie.

  How many times had we pretended to be happy over the years? How many secrets had we kept from each other? How much damage had we done? After this conversation, where would we go next?

  My stepsister teetered on the edge of revealing the one incident that had tortured and bound the two of us together for the last three years. What would happen when she jumped off that edge?

  “Avery,” I whispered. “Are you sure about this?”

  “Yes.”

  “However you want to tell them,” I said. “I’ll back you. I promised I would.”