“I will have you know, Olivia June, that I am perfectly capable of behaving myself around a guest!”
“Well, remember she’s Norman’s guest, not ours. She’s coming here to help work in the shop, not sit down to dinner,” Olivia replied, giving me a look.
Okay, I got it. My manners where Maxine was concerned had been horrible. Time to rectify that, one step at a time. “Mom, I was hoping you wouldn’t mind if I invited Maxine over for a meal and a proper introduction. I mean, she will be here today, but—”
“Today works!” she said, quivering with excitement as she moved around the living room, straightening things, refolding blankets, fluffing pillows.
“Well, don’t get ahead of yourself. Let me at least text her and make sure she and Norman haven’t made plans already.” I tugged my cell free from my pocket and for a moment wondered who I should text, Maxine or Norman. What if Max didn’t want to meet my family but would be too polite to say so? No, stop it, I told myself. She wouldn’t even be here if that were the case. Taking in a deep breath, I forced my hands to be as still as I could make them and typed out a text to her.
“Well?” Olivia asked. “They’re coming, then?”
“Yup. Mom, don’t fret about having something fancy made, okay? We can always go to the diner. And Max and I will want to help if you are going to put out a spread.”
“I don’t get home from the grocery until four today, so if you are trying something complicated, take the help and be glad of it,” Olivia broke in.
That mollified our mother, and she resumed her trip around the main room, cleaning what was already clean to start with. What neither of us wanted to say was that we didn’t entirely trust her to run the stove alone in the house, and whoever was going to help her with it, be it Max or myself, would be pulling double duty as keeper of the fire extinguisher.
Norman’s truck pulled into the driveway just as Olivia ran out, presumably to ask him for a lift to the grocery since she was running a bit late this morning. I heard a bubble of feminine laughter, so I guess that introduction was out of the way at least. Taking a big gulp, I said, “Mom, Maxine is here. Should I bring her in now or should I wait until lunchtime?”
“Now!” she exclaimed, her eyes wide like an excited kid on Christmas morning.
I silently prayed that Mom would also keep her prayers to herself today, and that she would remain lucid and not need to dull herself with benzodiazepines. It looked like Maxine was making tracks for the shop as Norman pulled out of the driveway with my sister, so I put down my cereal bowl and went to greet and debrief her.
I found Max as she was poking her head inside the garage, which was large and took up much of our lot. We’d divided it into two workspaces.. I was quite proud of our indoor/outdoor setup, so I watched her for a moment before interrupting her assessment. From the back, I could see her hair was loose and down, even longer than mine, and in the sun it blazed a gorgeous shade of brown that I swear had reddish highlights. She was dressed casually, in a blue flowy blouse that looked like something a hippie would wear, with jeans and those red Converse on her feet. I would prefer work boots, but she wouldn’t be helping with the carpentry today, so it was okay. She started to hum a tune under her breath in that horrendously off-key yet charming way of hers. Feeling like a creeper, I coughed, and she practically jumped out of her skin before turning and flashing me a smile.
“Come on,” I said, extending a hand to her and reveling in the warmth of her hand as our palms connected. This was the woman I loved, who loved me back. Whatever happened, it would be okay. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”
After working together that day, I realized how truly diabolical Norman’s seemingly innocent plan of making the three of us into an arena team in Magecraft had been. Norman had set us up to work as one unit, under his leadership, and he slipped into that role once again like he was born to it. We’d always had a fairly equitable division of labor and never argued over who was going to do this or that, but I guess with me not holding up my end, it was time for some decisive leadership. He assigned Maxine and I the task of finishing her build. I couldn’t help but feel that she was babysitting me, to make sure I stayed on task and my thoughts didn’t stray too far while I was supposed to be focused. Despite that feeling, it was a relief to have Norman step up and take charge.
What could have been a disastrous dinner with my family’s ace interrogation techniques came and went with minimal incident, Maxine earning my family’s stamp of approval with her kindness, cleverness, and compassion. She had indeed offered to pitch in and cook with Mom, and that alone scored her big points with Olivia. We chatted in the living room until I saw Maxine stifle a yawn and realized it was getting late. I asked Norman to take Maxine back to his place for the night, but she stopped me and said she would prefer that we walk. That was fine by me, because some things had to be done face-to-face, and finally pinning down the future direction of our strange courtship was one of them. All the uncertainty to this point was driving me up the wall.
As I led her by the hand through the moonlit darkness of the trailer park in the direction that would take us to Norman’s, I struggled to find the right words to convey how I felt. I decided to leap into the deep end of it and blurted, “Having you here is amazing. But it’s underscoring the fact that you live in Tennessee and I live down here. We love each other. What does our future look like to you?”
She stopped cold in her tracks, and for a moment I thought I’d made a terrible mistake. I took both of her hands in mine and leaned forward, resting our foreheads together. “We’re at a crossroads,” I said, jerking my head slightly to the left, prompting her to look around. We were literally standing at a four-way intersection of dirt roads.
“They say you can make a deal with the devil at a crossroads,” she replied. “You know, I thought you were Lucifer himself when I first saw you in the airport. The most beautiful of the angels, and a gigantic thorn in my backside.”
I chuckled and put a hand up to cup her cheek. As our hands were still entwined, this was not exactly possible, but I wasn’t willing to let her go. Not when we were about to discuss something so important.
“I think,” I began, “that we have to ask ourselves one simple question: Do we want to continue this relationship?”
“It’s not that simple though. We might want to have one, but is it healthy for both of us to be in a committed relationship right now?”
“You mean is it healthy for me,” I stated.
She shook her head. “No, I mean for both of us. Jonathan, I only started to come out of a very deep, large cocoon I had cozied myself into for almost ten damn years. I let that one attack by those asshole Wraiths define me, whether I like admitting that or not. My therapist has been great, but nothing happens overnight.”
I considered this. “Okay, so maybe the world doesn’t revolve around me being bipolar.”
“No, you're not bipolar, Jonathan. You’re living with bipolar disorder. It doesn’t have to define you, any more than the trauma I went through needs to define me. We get to make our own destinies and choose what parts are important.”
“I know what I choose. I choose you,” I said simply, like it was the easiest thing in the world.
“I choose you too.” She smiled. “You know, they also say that the devil is in the details, and our details are a bit much. I have commitments in Green Valley that I can’t walk away from, no matter how much my heart will ache to leave here. My mother counts on me, and I can’t expect Lois to just fall into that role and start doing all her outside chores for her. And there’s another thing—Lois and Elsa. I think I’ve pretty much convinced them to move all the way across the country and then I skip town? I’m literally the only person they know in the whole South.”
I felt a flicker of tension on my face, but she was on a roll, her mouth like a speeding bullet that wouldn’t be stopped until it was lodged in my heart. “Which brings us to your situation. You have an enti
re business here, with your best friend. Then there’s your mom, and I know she can be a handful. Norman and Olivia depend on you.”
“I know this. I love you, and I have for years. No one else will ever measure up to a fraction of what you are to me. And I don’t want to lose that. I’m willing to make sacrifices to keep you in my life and to keep you happy, Max.”
“I’m willing to make sacrifices for you too. I want to fight for you, and for us. I want to put in the work. I just wanted to lay out the situation so we aren’t walking into this blind. A long-distance relationship, that’s what we’re looking at here, right? I mean, that’s what I want. I want to be it for you, whether you are physically with me or five hundred and fifty-odd miles away.”
“It is only about an eight-hour car ride, or a short flight and a drive,” I pointed out, breaking into that smile which she had once confessed made her all twitterpated.
“Wrath is my boyfriend. Imagine that.” She laughed.
“Not like it took a while,” I replied in a teasing tone. And with that, I took her hand and we resumed our journey, leaving the crossroads in the dust behind us.
“Jonathan, this isn’t funny. Open the damn door!” Olivia’s voice punctured through the dull roar in my mind and I stopped pacing long enough to think about what she was saying.
Open the door? Such a simple thing, but … no! I needed that door locked to keep them out. Who “they” were was less clear, but I was filled with conviction that this was the only safe space.
“I can hear you in there, moving around and muttering to yourself. Please let me in so we can talk. You’re upsetting Mom.”
Ah, another trick, trying to guilt me into giving up my safety. Well, it wouldn’t work. I looked to my window and saw lights from the neighbor’s. Even they felt too close, like everything was closing in on me. So I went to the most private location I had, my bathroom, and sat down on the floor across from the vanity. I pulled my knees up as close to my chest as I could and wrapped my arms instinctively around them. I tried to bury my head in my outstretched arms so I wouldn’t have to hear the noise from the hallway coming in through paper-thin walls, and so I wouldn’t have to listen to that buzzing, buzzing in my head.
“… won’t listen to me … to you, maybe … I don’t know if … Mom, please … back to bed okay? I can …”
They all see how weak you are. All of them are secretly laughing at you. Such a burden on all of them, and they hate it.
No, shut up! I screamed internally to the sound of sick laughter.
I couldn’t even tell if it was real or imagined at this point because the words felt real. And wasn’t it our perception of things that make them real or not? I started to laugh, wondering why at 4:00 a.m. I had decided to wax philosophical over a voice inside my own damn head that was intent on torturing me. Or was it telling the truth? It was so hard to tell. I was tired, so tired, but I clenched my arms tighter around my legs and leaned my head back against the wall, thankful for the quiet from the hallway at least. Which didn’t last for long.
“Thanks so much for coming, y’all. Between Mom and now Jonathan, I was too overwhelmed to think clearly, maybe—”
See? Burden!
I put my hands over my ears, but the voices wouldn’t go away. I flopped my useless hands down at my sides, tipped my head forward, and reared it backward, meeting the wall with a satisfying crack. And again, and again.
“What is he banging in there?” a feminine voice asked.
“I think it’s his head,” a deeper voice replied.
“Holy shit, we have to stop him before he hurts himself.”
Hurt myself? Hurt myself! What did they know about how I hurt? I could feel my whole body full-on rocking back and forth, hitting the wall each time, and the bursts of pain were the only thing keeping me grounded in the here and now. I was here and now, right? I wasn’t lost yet … was I?
“Aside from breaking down the door, there’s no way we’re getting in.”
“I’m not ready to go full-on The Shining on your door, Mrs. Owen. But I will beat it down if I have to.”
“Do it. Girls, get behind me.”
A loud bang, then another.
Ah, they’re coming for you, Jonathan. The scared little boy can’t even be trusted by his own family to handle himself. They’re going to send you away.
Then, a CRACK, and a waft of slightly fresher air coming through the staleness of my room.
Footsteps.
“Aw, fuck, man. Max, Olivia, stay out there and keep Mrs. Owen out too. I’m going to sit with him until we can get in contact with Tom.”
“Not bloody likely. I want to see what is going on.” A retreat of the footsteps. “Hey, what are you doing, restraining me? You’ve knocked down the door. You can’t keep me away from him, Norman! He was fine a few hours ago, I have to see—”
“Max! This isn’t helping right now.”
“But I love him, Norman!”
“I know you do. I love him too. He’s my best friend, and I’m not letting his girl see him like this. Please respect that and just wait a little longer, okay?”
Footsteps moved through the trailer. Feminine crying from down the hallway, but I didn’t know whose. I couldn’t focus, I needed … fuck, what did I need? I buried my face in my hands until I heard someone sit down next to me.
They gently bumped shoulders with me, and a calm, male voice said, “You’re having a shit night, yeah? It’s okay. That girl out there? She loves you, you know. And I know you don’t want her to see you like this, so let me put it another way: you cooperate with me fixing you up, or I leave.” Ah, Norman.
I could trust Norman, right?
I lifted my head, which felt like a huge, heavy bowling ball, and looked up into the calm, encouraging face of my best friend since we were five. I reached out and took the tissues he offered, wiping my eyes and blowing my nose. Then, I nodded.
“Okay,” I croaked, my throat dry and sandpapery. “Do I have a choice anyway?” I asked, curious about what level of cooperation he expected here.
“You do,” he answered. “You can keep punishing yourself. But I hope you agree with my plan because, man, you gotta know you’re not at your best right now. I can help with that.”
“Okay,” I repeated, and he nodded.
Norman stood and extended his hand down to me. I was so tired of looking for hidden motives and seeing enemies at every turn.
I shook my head at his hand and managed, “My lorazepam. I should have one. Make that two.”
He was quiet for a moment. “I was thinking one before you can talk to Tom. If you take two, it’s going to knock you out.”
No fight left in me, I nodded. He turned to my medicine cabinet, fiddling around with bottles until he found the container of small white pills. He handed me one and I let it melt under my tongue, knowing it would calm that ugly inner voice still tormenting me. I pushed myself to standing, and Norman guided me by the elbow back to my bed, saying, “Man, I’ve got to clean up in here a little, yeah? There’s like, broken door pieces on the ground and it looks like your laundry basket exploded.”
I sat on the bed, and feeling tired and defeated, said, “Do whatever you want. I can’t … I can’t think.”
“Do you want to see Maxine? She would like to see you,” he said, almost too casually, as he picked up stray clothes and tossed them into the basket.
I wasn’t a slob by nature, but I was self-aware enough to notice that the chaos in my environment was often reflective of the chaos in my head. I kneaded my forehead, suddenly aware of how sore the back of my head was.
“Jonathan? Do you want to see Max?”
Chapter 27
Maxine
“This game is bigger than you or I. It’s about community, about friendship, and about building something together.”
― Maximus_Damage
I sat at the kitchen table and held onto the tea Olivia had placed in front of me like it was a lifeline. I knew coming h
ere that I would be seeing Jonathan in the throes of an episode of some kind, but I wasn’t prepared for what that would feel like. The sheer helplessness that would grip me, and the way I was compelled to go to him, even though all sense said to stay back until he was ready. I looked at the empty place on the table where Norman had tossed the first aid kit when we arrived, and my gut churned. Had he cut himself? Was he back there, bleeding?
“You look like you’re about to break that cup with how tense your hands are,” Olivia said, sitting down across from me. “That first aid kit was a precaution. Norman likes to cover all bases.” She had just helped her mother relax and get back into bed and looked like that’s where she needed to be too. It was closing in on five in the morning, and we were all haggard.
“How often does it get this bad, Olivia?” I asked, almost whispering, like I didn’t want her to hear the question because I wasn’t sure I could handle the answer.
“That I need to call in reinforcements? Not often. Only when his meds fail and he needs to start a new one, usually. It’s happened three times since he was diagnosed, and every time I’ve called Norman. He seems to relax around him more than with me. I think it’s because Norman is better at remaining calm, Jonathan responds well to it.”
I felt something in my stomach sink like a stone. “I kind of dropped the ball tonight, didn’t I? By adding to the tension.”
She reached her hand across the table, palm up, and I placed mine in hers. She squeezed tight and said, “This is all new for you. The fact that you are here, that you care, that you love him, all of those things matter. Of course you went Mama Bear on Norman because he wanted to come between you and Jonathan. It’s okay. There’s no rulebook for all this, believe me.”
I squeezed her hand back. “Thanks, Olivia. I want to be useful, you know? And to see him with my own eyes, that he’s okay. I—”
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