Insipid

by Christine Brae

  He stepped away from the stove and slowly walked towards the table. Calmly, he lifted the vase up and left the room, carrying it in his arms. As my eyes followed in his direction, I noticed an empty bottle of scotch next to the sink by the bar. He returned in a few seconds and his tone was forceful and challenging. “She was trying to fucking help. It’s not her fault.”

  “Well, she knows better than to do that. Next time she tries to help, I’m going to fire her. It’s not like we can’t find another housekeeper.” I wanted to stop but I couldn’t. “I’m going to go upstairs to change before dinner.”

  He grabbed my arm as soon as I tried to walk away. “Sit,” he commanded. “You’re going to talk to me whether you like it or not. I deserve more than this, Jade. You’ve been distant for so long. I’m so tired of second guessing what you’re thinking. It’s been nine months since we lost her. How long are you going to make me pay for your pain?”

  I saw the hurt in his eyes as he uttered those words. He was right. He needed to know the truth. That there was no more need to pretend.

  “What can I do to make it right between us?” he asked, stroking his hand up and down my arm.

  “Nothing. I just need time. Please.” I found myself cringing from his touch.

  “Time for what? Look around you. I’ve given you a good life, everything you ever wanted. I took your bastard daughter and made her my own. I loved her and raised her and now that she’s gone, you’re making it seem like it’s been such a hard life for you.” He spoke through gritted teeth. “What in God’s name do you want me to do?”

  “All I’m asking for is some time. Please understand. I’m nothing without her. I’m trying so hard to cope with everything. My job. My travels. My parents. They’re what’s holding me together.”

  “All of them and not me.”

  “Josh, it isn’t like you didn’t know this before. I tried to tell you, even when she was still here. I tried to tell you that things haven’t been working between us. But you never listened.” There was no more room for niceties—it was time to try to break free.

  “My life was perfect with you.”

  “It wasn’t!” I countered. “Please try to remember. Felicia was the glue that held us together. Our love for her—we translated it into our love for each other. We deserve to find happiness. You’re a wonderful person; you’re just not for me.”

  There was something oddly off about him. He seemed agitated and jumpy. He wasn’t slurring his words, but he had a glassy look in his eyes that I would never forget. I coaxed myself not to fall into his trap because I was afraid to say more than I already had. But he kept on going. He continued his charge to egg me on.

  “It’s him, isn’t it, Jade? You never gave me a chance. Why would you love someone like that? He’s a nobody.”

  “Joshua, please. I’m warning you—”

  “Warning me about what? All these years, did you think of him while we were together? I saw how you reacted to him when he came to the service. Did you think of him when I fucked you that night?”

  Sex. I repaid him for his love with sex. What does that make me? “Stop it!” I yelled, struggling to get away from him. As soon as he released my arm, I gathered up my things and did anything I could to keep my hands busy. I lifted my purse. I put it down. I moved around the kitchen. I took a kitchen towel and started wiping down the counters. Anything. He wasn’t going to let me leave the kitchen, so I tried to move around him instead of standing still.

  “Please, Jade. I’m begging you. Try. Try to love me again.”

  “That’s it,” I said. “I don’t know if I ever did. You were so good to me, so kind to take me in and raise my daughter as if she were your own. I will always be grateful to you for that. But it’s over. I don’t want to be with you. I’m drowning. I need to get out.” I gagged as the words escaped from my mouth.

  “You’re going back to that lowlife, aren’t you?”

  “Joshua. I warned you. Please stop, now!”

  “He’s a good for nothing carpenter. How is he going to give you the life that you’re used to living?”

  “This has nothing to do with him. I’m just asking for time to figure myself out.” My defense mechanism has always been to keep busy, to distract myself by focusing on the tasks in front of me. That night, my task was to get dinner on the table. I busied myself around him, taking a serving bowl and spooning some of the stew in it. I opened the refrigerator and retrieved the leftover rice from the other night. The shrill ring of my phone broke the silence. The problem was that it was lying on the table next to where he stood.

  “Oh look, speaking of the motherfucker. It’s the enigma that is Chris Wilmot.”

  “Josh, please just let it go to voicemail.” The beeping sound of the microwave faded into the background.

  “How often does he call you? Why is he calling?”

  “I don’t know. I really don’t.” The one honest thing that I said all night, and he didn’t believe me.

  He banged his fists on the table. The silverware lifted neatly into the air before crashing down onto the floor. “I’m going to ask you again. This time, not so nicely. How often does he call you?”

  “He doesn’t. I’m not sure why he’s calling now.”

  “Bullshit.”

  The phone rang again. This time he answered it. He was visibly shaking and his hold on the phone was so pronounced, I feared that it was going to crumble in his hands.

  “Wilmot. Stay the fuck away from her. Don’t ever call my wife again.”

  I cowered back in fear as I heard the shattering of the phone against the brick wall.

  He looked at me, his face grimaced in pain. It was like a scene from a horror movie where the villain’s facial features mutated from a human being into a deformed monster. I knew what was going to happen next. I could see the venom in his eyes.

  I tried to run past him, but he blocked me.

  “Where are you going, whore?” he spat out as he pressed against me, bumping me with his chest. He moved forward, I moved backward. “You’re not going anywhere,” he screamed in my ear as he lifted me up by my arms and pushed me against the wall.

  “Please, Josh. Let’s talk. Please let me down!” I cried, trying to push him away.

  He started to cry. An excruciatingly painful howl emerged from his chest. “Don’t you understand, Jade? I’ve loved you for so many years. I’ve taken care of you. I’ve given you my life. I can’t stand the thought of another man touching you, of another man seeing this immaculate body of yours.” He squeezed my breast and brought his face down to kiss it. “Look at you, my beauty. You look just as young as when I first met you. You were his then. You came to me because there was no one else. I should have known that the empty look in your eyes was because he still had you. Well, guess what? No one deserves you but me. I took you in when you were a used rag pregnant with a child. That should count for something, shouldn’t it?” His wicked laugh was revolting. Bile rose to my throat.

  “Josh, please, please, you’re hurting me. I’m going to be sick.”

  “Sick? I’m sick. I’m sick with love for you. “No more talking. I love you, Jade. No one is ever going to touch you but me.”

  Roughly, he slid me down the wall and yanked my feet away until my head hit the floor with a thud. I tried to reach my arms up to hold his face, but he was shaking so violently that I ended up scratching him on the cheek.

  “You bitch!” he yelled as he lifted his hand and hit me on the face.

  I felt the warm sensation of blood trickling down my lips. Was it from my nose? My cheeks? Was that horrible gurgling sound coming from me?

  “This is mine,” he growled as he rolled me over on my stomach and roughly hiked my skirt up to my waist. I heard him unbuckling his belt and pulling down his pants. My head was turned sideways, my left cheek on the marble floor. I couldn’t move; he had me pinned down by his full bodyweight. My hands were twisted behind my back, my shoulders felt like they were being pu
lled out of their sockets. He entered me furiously, rotating his hips, his movements intended to tear my insides apart.

  “I’m sorry, Jade. If I can’t have you, no one will,” he whispered gruffly in my ear.

  I felt his weight lift off me as he continued his thrusts, only to be replaced by the full weight of two hands on my neck. Take me home, Cia. I miss you so much.

  The pain in my chest was indescribable. It felt like all my insides had burst and blood was spurting out of my lungs; I could feel the heat spreading from my chest to my shoulders. Everything happened in slow motion. Before I knew it, my vision was slowly, slowly dwindling in and out. The scratches on the marble floor, vivid and marked before he put his hands on my neck, were fading. For the second time in my life, I noticed the ground underneath me. It hurt to cough. It hurt to blink my eyes. Images of my life started to play out in front of me. All I could see was a young, broken girl at 23, holding her baby in her arms, and an ardent young man who wanted nothing in his life but to love her. I owed him so much. He did take me in. He took care of our daughter. He made us a family.

  “Jesus Christ! What am I doing? Oh my God! Jade!”

  Let me go, Josh, it’s okay. I’m craving sleep. I’m just so exhausted.

  I WOKE UP feeling like I had just been run over by a truck. I floated in and out of consciousness, but my eyes felt so heavy that it took a great effort for me to lift up my eyelids. I kept them closed despite hearing voices all around me. My nose was uncomfortably itchy and when I weakly reached my hand over to touch it, I found that it had been casted. My other hand was held by someone else sitting close by my bed. I couldn’t remember where I was or how I got there. There was a burning pain between my legs that seemed to dissipate as long as I held them close together. As time went by, the voices around me, although somewhat muffled, became clearer.

  “Mr. Albin, the police report is complete except for a statement from your daughter as soon as she regains consciousness.”

  “I don’t want anyone speaking to her until she is well enough to do so,” my father said sternly. “Her physical injuries will speak for themselves. I want that bastard put away forever!” His voice was filled with so much pain. I knew that he was crying. “It kills me to think about what could have happened if Mr. Wilmot hadn’t rushed over to check on her.”

  “What did the medical report say?” the voice continued.

  “Multiple lacerations on the face and neck. Tissue injury of the neck, broken shoulder blade, broken nose. Rape.”

  My mother let out a shrill cry and I heard my father’s heavy footsteps move to the side of the room where I assumed she sat. As they spoke around me, the hand that held mine squeezed tighter.

  Slowly, I mustered all my strength to open my eyes. He was looking right at me, the man who has holding my hand.

  “Jade? Frank, I think she’s awake!”

  I glanced around to see my mother and father rush to my bedside.

  “Jade! Thank God! My baby girl!” my mother cried. “Don’t move, don’t.”

  I pointed weakly to the remote control and motioned for them to adjust it so my head was slightly elevated.

  “I’m okay,” I whispered softly. My throat was on fire. I spoke in a breathy whisper. No voice. “Where is he?” Flashes of what had transpired ran through my mind, the pain in my chest becoming more pronounced as I tried to process everything.

  “Don’t talk, honey. It’s okay. It will all be okay. We’re here,” my father assured me.

  Everything went black before I could do anything else. By the time I reopened by eyes, Chris was the only one sitting next to me. I heard the soft, heavy breathing that told me he was asleep. I crept my hand over to where he rested his head and stroked his hair. He lifted his forehead but kept his chin resting on the mattress.

  “You still have a lot of hair,” I whispered. He chuckled lightly and closed his eyes as if savoring the memory. I always loved touching his hair.

  “Hi.” He smiled. “I’m so glad you’re back.”

  “Now that my parents are gone, will you tell me what happened?”

  “Okay. Where do you want me to start?”

  “How—” I covered my throat. It hurt so much to talk. “How did you get to me?”

  “I called to let you know that I had just arrived in Chicago. I had a meeting with another construction company the next day and wanted to check to see how you were doing. I feel horrible, Jade. I know it was my phone call that set him off.”

  “No, it wasn’t, really. I was trying to explain how I had been feeling that night. He was already angry by the time he picked up your call.”

  “I rushed over right after he hung up the phone. By the time I reached your house, the ambulance was on the way. He was kneeling right next to you, freaking out about what he had just done. He didn’t contest anything. He told the police exactly what happened.”

  “Where is he now?”

  “Undergoing psychiatric evaluation at St. Alexis. Your father seems to think that he’s going to be committed. The stress of what happened to your daughter plus the alienation of your marriage could have caused him to have a nervous breakdown.”

  “I’m not pressing charges. A large part of it was my fault.”

  “No, Jade. He’s the only one who’s responsible for what he did. He nearly killed you.”

  “I wanted to die. To be with Felicia.”

  “No. You’ll get through this. I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll see you through every step of your recovery. She left you here for a reason. It’s time to start living for yourself. I promise you, you’ll be happy again someday.”

  I didn’t register what he said, still vacant and unaffected. “I’m so tired, Chris. I just want to sleep.”

  “Rest, my love. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

  I closed my eyes, still holding onto his hand. Where did my heart go? I had lost two people in my life and all I wanted to do was close my eyes and vanish.

  “Pajama, pajama, pajama,” I can hear my mother chant. “That’s what you would say, Jade, when you were five. You thought closing your eyes made you invisible. You would repeat those words over and over again whenever you were upset about something.”

  “Pajama, pajama, pajama.”

  CHRIS REMAINED WITH me for another week as I recovered in the hospital. It took an argument between us for him to finally agree to head back to San Francisco to tend to his business. My body was taking longer to recover from the damage of the assault than anticipated. I sustained multiple bodily injuries including abrasions and bruises on my neck. I was told that it may take years for them to disappear due to the broken blood vessels caused by the pressure that was exerted when he choked me. The mark of his fingers almost resembled a ligature mark, something I was told was common to the trauma of strangulation. My neck was swollen due to internal hemorrhaging. My vocal cords were almost ruptured. My left shoulder and my nose were in casts. I underwent physical and psychiatric counseling and attended a rape support group while I was at the hospital.

  I held no hatred for Joshua. Only pity. He loved me so much, and he did what he could to make me love him back for almost twenty years.

  As the weeks went by, I felt strong enough to begin the process of healing. Until a few days ago, I hadn’t been able to return to our home. My father had purchased a two bedroom condo on Lakeshore Drive to ensure that I had a place to stay after being released from the hospital. I wasn’t well enough to fly to San Francisco, although my mother tried to move mountains to get me to yield to her desperate pleas. I was in contact with Joshua’s mother, as I held no ill will against him (or her, for that matter). I just wanted to put this behind me and move on with my life.

  I went in through the garage like I always did and slowly made my way around the house, an overwhelming feeling of being loved surrounding me. This was the home where we raised the most amazing little girl. I will always want this house to remain as a testament to the love we had as a fam
ily. I will never forget what Josh had done for us. He was her father, he was my husband, and he was my friend.

  One hour later, I found myself sitting in the middle of her room surrounded by everything she had accumulated in her very short life. The ringing of my phone quickly postponed the tears that had just begun to form in my eyes. I broke out in a smile as soon as I heard his voice.

  “Hey. Are you at your house? Is everything okay?”

  “Yes. Concha is here with me. My mother sent her to Chicago to care for me for a few weeks. We’re going through Felicia’s stuff. I think she was a closet hoarder.” I held the phone away from me for a quick second, intent on hiding the sound of my sniffles.

  “Oh God. Really?” He snickered. “Why does that sound so familiar?”

  I blush as the memory assails me. “I thought I’d do a little at a time. I’m going to leave most of her things as is, but wanted to just pack up a few of her pictures to take with me to the condo. Paul had also asked for a couple of her things.”

  “Sounds like a good idea. Aside from that, how are you doing? Are you okay?”

  “As okay as I can be, I guess. I miss her so much.” I paused to lighten up my tone. “I’ve started running on the treadmill. Really slow for now and only one mile, but it felt great!”

  “Baby steps, Jade, okay? Promise me you won’t go overboard.”

  “I promise,” I said as I weaved through the piles of Cia’s clothing on the floor.

  “Good girl. I’m going to try to take a few days off to see you next week. Will that be okay?”

  “You don’t have to, Chris. I know how busy you are. I’m really doing fine. Concha is fattening me up with her adobos and empanadas,” I argue.

  “I want to. I’ll call you once my schedule is more certain.”

  “Okay. Thank you for checking on me.”

  “Take care, Jae. I’ll call again tomorrow.”

  “You’re the only truth, that I ever knew,