I raise my brow. “Didn’t you? We’ve hardly spoken in the past day, and that shouldn’t even bother me because we don’t owe each other anything, but this is not what I agreed to, goddamit.”
Eric stands back, listening.
“It was just supposed to be you and me. It was just supposed to be one night. How the hell did we get here? I left my family, Eric. I left everything behind so that I could come here and die. I know that sounds awful but that’s what I wanted. I didn’t come here to be roped in by you or anyone else. And I certainly didn’t come here for an intervention or whatever the hell it is that you’ve got planned.”
Eric lowers his eyes and starts to scuff his shoe against the dock. It looks like I’ve hit a nerve. I wait a breath, trying to calm down.
“I didn’t have anything planned,” Eric says, earnestly. “Yes, I wanted you to meet Bay because he fought his way through this and maybe he could help you through it, too, but I brought you here so that you could rest. That’s all I want you to do. Just rest.”
I feel myself relaxing, the chagrin of my overreaction dying down. I don’t want to jump into the water anymore.
“I can’t imagine how tired you must be, wanting to die all the time, but here you don’t have to plan anything, or worry. All you need to do is be here, and breathe. Just breathe, Abby. That’s all I want from you.”
I turn away from him, and take deep breaths, just like he wants. I feel like I will either scream or throw up if I try to speak.
“Abby...” Eric’s voice is soft and warm. I feel him move closer to me.
Tell me I can do this. Just tell me that.
“It can be just you and me again if you want. We can go back.”
I turn to face him. He smiles softly at me. He looks beautiful, and all I want to do is hold him, to press myself into him until we merge.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I overreacted. Bay just caught me off guard, I think.”
“Don’t apologize for the way you feel.”
Eric moves closer to me. He’s looking at me like he’s trying to see into my soul, to locate all of my broken parts and identify the ones that are making me sick. He comes in so close that I can hear him breathing. He touches my arm, pulls me into him and holds me. My body feels light, like I might float away, so I hold onto him, truly touching him for the first time. I put my nose against his neck, cool and damp. His arms pull me in tighter.
“I wish I could make it go away,” he says in a whisper. “I wish I could help you.”
“You are helping me. I know you are.”
We pull away from each other. I feel vacant.
Jodie and Bay are on the deck when we get back to the house, trying to make it seem like they weren’t just spying on us. Bay is sitting on one of the railings, sucking on a cigarette. Jodie doesn’t ask us anything, which I appreciate. Instead, she does a little dance and announces that she has a surprise.
“I don’t like surprises,” Bay says, blasé. “You know that.”
Jodie waves him off. “Don’t be a spoilsport, Bay.”
He shrugs, blowing smoke out of his nostrils.
“What’s the surprise, Jodes?” Eric asks.
Jodie smiles. “Who’s up for a road trip?”
We all look at her, unenthused. It doesn’t seem like any of us want to be stuck in a car for however long it might be.
“Okay, so it’s not really a road trip. It’s just ten minutes out the way. Come on. I promise that it’ll be fun.” She points her finger at us in turn. “Let the mystery commence.”
We all pile into Jodie’s car, a small Nissan that I hadn’t noticed parked along the side of the house, and drive along a gravel road that bypasses several houses along the lake. Eric is in the backseat with me, while Bay struggles with the radio, unable to find a station that he’s satisfied with. Jodie drives with both arms across the steering wheel, peering out through the windscreen like she really can’t see where she’s going. I nudge Eric to make him aware of his sister’s driving methods, but he laughs and shrugs it off, murmuring that this is usually the way she does it.
When we reach the surprise location none of us are ready for it. We were expecting to be in the car a little longer, since there is nothing out here but the road and lots of trees. The mountains stretch back on either side of us, and mostly it’s desolate.
Jodie gets out and waves for us to follow. We walk, silent, until a pathway emerges that leads to a lone standing structure. The building looks derelict and dangerous, like a place where drug dealers would likely be cooking methamphetamine. I resist the urge to look over my shoulder to find any strung out teenagers lurking nearby, waiting to jump us.
With her back to us, Jodie spreads her arms out, like she has reached the end of a performance and is waiting for the audience to applaud. She is smiling. “Here it is!”
I look at Bay and Eric. They are both looking around to see what she’s showing us, looking back at her like she’s a crazy person.
Bay takes a step toward her. “Here what is, dove?”
Jodie drops her arms, her smile still energetic. “I bought it.”
Bay cringes. Eric looks at me, then at Bay, and then gapes at his sister. “You bought this place?”
“Yes! Well, Savannah and I both did. We bought the entire plot. I was driving past here a couple of weeks ago and saw that it was up for sale – who would have thought, huh? – and it just suddenly dawned on me.”
Bay still looks confused. “You’re going to have to explain it all a whole lot better because I am still not getting it.”
Jodie laughs excitedly. “Well, you know how Savannah and I have been running the catering company from her house? We’ve been talking a while about setting up in a proper space and this will work perfect as the new centre of operations.”
“You’re serious?”
“As a heart attack.”
Bay laughs, like he can’t believe it. I’m smiling because Jodie looks like she might burst.
“So, what do you guys think?”
Bay eyes the building. “Truth or lies?”
“Truth, please.”
“It looks like shit.”
Eric hangs his head. “Jesus, Bay.”
I smile.
“What? She asked.”
Jodie doesn’t seem to mind. She laughs and gestures toward the house. “I know that it doesn’t look like much right now, but it has really good bones and the inside is cleaner that you’d imagine. Savannah knows a good designer and I think that with some hard work and lots of love it will be absolutely great.”
Jodie is beaming with happiness. It’s practically radiating from her skin. I want to steal some of it for myself, be beautiful like her.
Eric walks toward his sister and puts an arm over her shoulder, kissing her on the crown of her head. “It’s amazing, Jodes.”
Jodie explains that the paperwork is not in her name yet, so we can’t enter without trespassing. She bounces ideas off of us on the drive back, roping in her brother and Bay with the restoration. She doesn’t have much to say to me. She knows that I won’t be around for the process, I guess.
When we get back, Eric goes for a swim in the lake. He invites me to come with him, but I don’t have a bathing suit and don’t feel like going into the water in any of my clothes. Jodie offers me one of her suits, but I still decline.
A call comes through on the landline, and Jodie answers it with a cheery greeting. She stars to speak energetically into the phone, references venues and menus, asking questions about headcounts and wait staff.
“Bay? Bay!” She calls out when she’s finished with the call. She starts to rummage around her kitchen looking for something seemingly important.
Bay emerges at the front door, a cigarette in his mouth again. “What?”
“Savannah just called. She’s booked another catering job for Thursday,” Jodie says, still poking around in the kitchen. “I’m going to need my baking sheets and roasters from Sophie. Would you be super helpful and
pick them up?”
Bay lingers outside. I don’t think he smokes in the house. “Sophie knows I’m coming?”
“I’ll call her right now.”
Bay looks at me. “Cape Town, walk with me?”
I follow Bay out the front door. The sun is fierce and the afternoon exceptionally bright. The streets are lively. Children are scooting up and down the road on their bikes. As we walk, I can see people gathering in their houses, enjoying the Saturday afternoon, smoke billowing from their backyards.
Bay finishes his smoke, killing the filter with the toe of his shoe.
After about a five-minute walk, Bay speaks. “I’m sorry if I was brash with you earlier,” he says, moving to the side of the road to let a car pass. The driver hoots at him and he waves back. “I tend not to waste my words with people. It’s one of the idiosyncrasies I’ve picked up since I moved here. Life is too short for beating around the bush with people. Life is too short in general.”
I make an effort to stay in step with Bay. He has a long stride, even at a slow space. “That’s okay. I felt a little ambushed at the time, but I’m over it.”
“You and Eric okay?” he asks. “You shouldn’t be so hard on him. His intentions are good.”
I nod. “We talked. Things are okay.”
“Good.”
We stay along the road, walking in and out of spots of sunshine, the rays of the sun streaking through the trees in a way that makes you long for things that haven’t even gone yet. Bay sticks his index finger down the front of his cast, scratching an itch.
“Forgive me if this is too personal,” I say, keeping a tentative eye on him. “But what happened? I mean, what made you do it?”
I am curious about Bay’s story. I want to know why he’d done it, and how he’d managed to move on from it. I am drawn to Bay like he is sunshine and I have been sitting in the dark for too long. He brims with light and I, the moth, can’t help but need to be close to him, like I could steal some of his strength if I get close enough.
Bay raises his eyebrows at me. “Personal? Come on. I told you. Things don’t stay secret for long around here.”
I am waiting for him to tell me when he turns into the driveway of one of the houses. The house is slightly bigger than Jodie’s and it has a frog pond in the middle of the garden. As we approach, a young boy about five years old runs out to meet us, jumping into Bay’s arms, shouting his name.
“Whoa! Kiddo, you’ve got to warn me before you do things like that,” Bay says, smiling with the boy in his arms. “My back is not what it used to be.”
“You’re not old!” The boy says, hanging onto Bay’s neck. He’s wearing a sunhat so when he turns to look at me he has to lift his chin a little to see me. “Who are you?”
Bay puts him down, tilting the boy’s hat so that we can see his eyes. “This is Abby.” Bay says, winking at me. “Abby, this is Oliver.”
I wave. “Hi, Oliver.”
Oliver smiles.
“Hey, Liver. Want to hear something cool?” Bay says, kneeling next to the boy.
“Yeah?”
“Abby’s from super far away. Like the other side of the world. Do you know where South Africa is?”
Oliver thinks for a second. “Like, in Africa?” he asks, eyes wide.
“You’re a smart one, Liver. Good answer.”
Oliver beams. “Bay, do you want to play video games with me? Mom got me new ones for my birthday.”
“I’d love to, buddy, but I’m just here to pick up a few things. I’ll come see you soon, though, okay. I promise.”
“Okay. I’ll let Mom know.”
On cue, Oliver’s mother exits the house and walks toward us carrying two canvas bags. I hear the tin sheets rattling against each other. She’s athletic and tall, but has tired eyes. Bay introduces me to Sophie, who I learn sometimes helps Jodie out with catering jobs. She’s friendly but a little reserved, like she has already used up all her energy for the day.
“Be good for your mom, okay Liver?” Bay says as we leave.
“Okay! See you soon!”
Each with a bag in hand, we walk back to the house.
“You’re really good with him,” I say.
Bay nods curtly. “There are very few people who live here year-round, so sometimes I watch him when Sophie has to work long hours at catering gigs. I have a lot of respect for single moms, so I try to help her out once in a while. She’s a sweet girl, and Oliver’s a good kid. Mostly I can handle him. I learned the hard way not to let him have sugar.”
I laugh. Two teenagers pedal past us, deep in conversation with each other.
“It started when I was fifteen.”
I look at Bay. He’s squinting against the sun. His face is healing quickly. The cuts and bruises don’t look as bad as they did yesterday.
“I was making out with Sarah Fischer in her parents’ basement when all of a sudden I felt really sick. She asked me what was wrong and I told her that I wanted to spill my guts and she thought I meant that I wanted to tell her all my secrets.” He smiles at the memory, eyes to the ground. “She pressed me about it for a while so I made up a few things to placate her but I’d decided that I never wanted to see her again. I thought maybe the two things were related. But the feeling wouldn’t go away. In fact, it got progressively worse and I figured out the problem wasn’t with Sarah Fischer after all.
“Then I thought it was just what growing up felt like, you know; teenage angst and all that. Except everyone else seemed to be doing okay with it. No one else I knew looked like they felt the way I did. By the time I reached my twenties it was really bad, and I was exhausted. I got tired of feeling like I had a cinder block on my chest all the time. My bones were aching too much.”
I feel a lump start to form in the back of my throat. Everything Bay is saying makes so much sense. It’s like we are made from the same substance.
“One day I got some razor blades and sat down on my bathroom floor and hacked away at my wrists. It felt like I was an overblown balloon getting some of its air released. Except after that it didn’t feel good anymore. Eric found me, which is the one thing I regret.” He sighs almost imperceptibly. “The doctors sewed me up but they didn’t fix me. A couple of months later I threw myself off a bridge near my house.”
Images of Morgan zip around in my head. My skin itches at the thought that Bay tried to kill himself twice.
“I don’t remember much, but I remember hoping that it worked this time. And it did, I guess. I was dead for four minutes. Like, gone. They weren’t supposed to work on me for so long but there was this lady doctor who wasn’t prepared to have someone die on her table, so they fought and brought me back, kicking and screaming.”
I consider all that he’s been through. I think about what it must have been like for Eric, walking in on Bay bleeding all over the bathroom floor. When I look at Bay, I can see several lifetimes on his face.
“Do you still want to do it?”
“No.” He shakes his head. “I mean, I struggle sometimes. It’s not like I just woke up one day and it was all gone. Sometimes when I’m having a bad day, it’s like a mosquito buzzing around my head. Malicious and insistent.” Bay touches the cut on his lip lightly with his fingertips. “But then I just latch myself to Jodie and breathe her in or listen to her speak and the mosquito goes away.”
I think about skirting around the question, but conclude that Bay might appreciate my directness. “I know you said that you’re not with Jodie, but are you in love with her?”
Bay doesn’t falter, doesn’t even pause. “Very much.”
“But you haven’t told her?”
He shakes his head.
“I thought you don’t beat around the bush with anyone.”
He smirks. “Jodie’s not just anyone. She’s special.”
“Why?”
“Because she’s saved me from myself more times than I can recall. I’m not strong enough to do it by myself yet. I’m working on it, and when th
at’s fixed, I’ll tell her. I don’t want her to be pressured into thinking that she’s keeping me alive.”
“Is that why you moved here? Because you’re hoping that she’ll keep you safe?”
“For the most part.”
We can see the house now, coming into view slowly with every step. We slow our pace to elongate our time together.
“The way you feel when you’re with Eric is the way I feel when I’m with Jodie.”
I try not to blush. “How would you know how I feel when I’m with him?”
“Doll, it’s written all over your face.”
Bay stops. I pause, wondering what he’s doing. He closes his eyes, the same way I’d seen him do when we were standing on the dock, and takes a deep breath. He does this several times while I watch, trying to figure him out.
“The trick is to keep breathing,” he says when he’s finished. “To take breaths so deep until you can convince yourself that it’s going to be okay.” He locks eyes with me, his irises almost emerald. “Sometimes it’s hard to breathe. I know. But if you stop, you die. That’s how our bodies work.”
“And after all that, what if it’s not okay?”
Bay smiles and starts walking towards the front door. “Then you keep breathing until it is.”
Chapter Eleven
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask Eric later, when we are out on the deck peeling vegetables for dinner.
“About Bay?”
I nod. “Particularly the fact that you were the one who found him.”
Eric sighs. He seems to mull over the question for a while, but answers like he’d known exactly what he would say. “It’s better to think of him in the present. The way that he’s now. I prefer not to think of him on that bathroom floor.
The wind starts to pick up. The potato peels look like they’re considering an airborne escape.
I can’t help myself from asking the question, needing to know with all parts of my body. “How bad was it?”
“We were supposed to go see a band play that night, but Bay called to cancel, saying that he wasn’t feeling too good. I was kind of pissed because it was his idea to go in the first place.”
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