by Claire Adams
“Good for you.” She nodded. “It’s not healthy for you to be moping around, pining for Phil.”
“I’m not pining,” I said defensively. “I’m just…hopeful.”
“Any news?”
I knew what she was really asking. “Not really,” I sighed. “After that talk we had at the park, I haven’t seen or spoken to him. And that was almost a week ago.”
“How did you’ll end it?” Marta asked.
“He told me he needed time and I told him I’d wait.”
“Time for what?” she asked in confusion. “Wait for what?”
I sighed. “I thought I knew at the time, but now I’m fucking confused,” I admitted. “I think he meant time to decide if he wanted to continue our relationship or end it for good. Which terrifies me to no end… What if he calls me one day and says he’s done?”
“It has been a week,” she said, with a frown. “What if you don’t hear back from him for months?”
“He wouldn’t do that,” I said, feeling my heart skip a beat and not in a good way.
She pursed her lips and looked at me sympathetically. “When does your course start?”
“In a week,” I said. “I’m late in applying, but Miriam said she’s put in a word for me, so I should be okay to enroll.”
“What made you change your mind?” Marta asked.
“I guess I was just tired of postponing everything,” I said. “I need to figure out a plan for myself, and that means jumping in head first. There’s this girl named Stephanie who lives in an apartment complex a few blocks from Brent’s. She put out an ad for a roommate, and I answered it. The rent’s much cheaper, and I can afford to take a course at the same time. So that’s what I’m going to do.”
“Well, I’m proud of you.” Marta nodded in approval. “You’re making strides.”
“I don’t know about making strides,” I said. “But I’m trying my best to stay distracted.”
“Don’t worry so much,” she said comfortingly. “He’ll come around.”
“What if he doesn’t?” I asked.
“Then…you’ll survive and be stronger for it.”
I sighed. “Somehow that doesn’t make me feel better.”
“Have you tried calling him since you last spoke?”
“Uh…no,” I said, shaking my head.
Marta raised her eyebrows. “Why the hell not?”
“He wanted time…and space,” I pointed out. “That’s the one thing he asked for. How could I just ignore it? And what if he doesn’t want to speak to me at all until he’s made his decision?”
“Then, I’m sure he’ll find a way to let you know,” Marta said firmly. “My point is that you’ve got to keep trying. You’ve got to keep fighting. You need to show him that you’re not going to take him for granted. You’re going to make it really hard for him to leave you.”
“It feels like he’s already left me.”
“You need to stop feeling sorry for yourself and get proactive about this boy,” she said firmly. “You need to make the same effort for him that you’re making in your professional life.”
“Shouldn’t I respect his wishes, though?”
“You were friends with Phil before you were a couple, right?” Marta asked.
“Yes.”
“Then start there and see where it goes.”
I frowned. “You know…that’s not a bad idea.”
“I’m full of great ideas and sage advice, don’t you forget that.”
I smiled. “Thanks, Marta.”
“Anytime, honey,” she said, giving me a wink.
That evening, I made a small detour after work and found myself in the park again. It wasn’t just because the atmosphere reminded me of Phil. It was because I hated going back to Brent’s lonely apartment. A part of me was still processing the fact that he was in jail and would be for a very long time. My feelings about it were extremely complicated.
I felt so incredibly sad at how much of his life Brent would waste behind bars, but a part of me felt like he needed this lesson. It was the only way he had a chance of becoming a better man.
Mom and Dad had called me a few times over the last week, but they had started throwing blame at everyone but Brent for what had happened. After our last conversations three days ago, I had stopped answering their texts and taking their calls. It was too much for me to handle right now.
So really the only person I had to talk to was Marta, and while I loved her to death, she just wasn’t Phil. I missed him so much sometimes that it actually physically hurt. I sat down on the swings and pulled out my phone as I thought about Marta’s suggestion. She was right, though; we had been friends before we had been a couple.
I decided to just call and check in…keep things as casual as possible, without talking about anything too serious. I dialed in Phil’s number and waited with baited breath.
“Megan?” Phil’s voice sounded a little surprised, and I prayed that he wouldn’t make an excuse and hang up on me after two seconds.
“Hi,” I said nervously. “Are you busy?”
“Been home for a few hours, actually,” Phil replied. “I have a late-night shift today.”
“Oh, okay.” I nodded. “So, you probably need to catch up on your sleep, huh?”
“Well… I slept enough, actually,” he said.
I felt a little blossom of hope. I had given him an easy out if he had wanted to avoid talking to me, but instead of taking it, he had opened up the possibility of a conversation.
“I just called to say…uh…”
“Yes?”
“I just called to say that I watched Silence of the Lambs the other night,” I said.
“You did?” Phil asked, and I noticed his tone change. He had suggested the movie to me months ago, but we had never gotten around to watching it. “And…what did you think?”
“It was a great movie,” I said. “And terrifying.”
“That’s the brilliance of Anthony Hopkins.”
“Anthony Hopkins was scary, definitely,” I nodded. “But Buffalo Bill was pretty damn frightening, as well.”
“More so than Hannibal?” Phil asked, and he sounded perplexed.
“Well… I thought so.”
“What?” he said. “How can you think that Buffalo Bill is more frightening? Hannibal is so…intensely intelligent, not to mention the fact that he happens to be a cannibal.”
“Okay…cannibalism is pretty up there on the horrific scale, but skinning women in order to make yourself skin? I mean, come on, that’s pretty gruesome.”
“He’s eating people!” Phil said indignantly.
I laughed. “I’m not saying it’s not horrible,” I said. “I’m just saying Buffalo Bill was creepier to me, I suppose.”
“Okay, that I’ll grant you,” Phil nodded. “But let’s be honest; who would you be more scared to come across in real life?”
“Both,” I said immediately.
“If you had to choose.”
“Ugh…”
“Come on,” he prompted. “Give me an answer…and think about it.”
“Well, I suppose I’d be more terrified of coming across Hannibal.”
“Thank you!”
“It’s only because he’s so damn charming and intelligent. You’d probably invite him to your house for tea and ask him for advice… It would never even cross your mind that he was a murderer, let alone a cannibal.”
“Finally, something we can agree on.”
I laughed and breathed an intense internal sigh of relief. It was just like old times, almost. This was exactly how it used to be in the beginning, before we had been a couple and when we had just started to get to know one another. Phil’s initial tone, which had started off slightly weary, had turned happy and upbeat and over the course of our conversation, we both relaxed.
Neither one of us mentioned anything about the trial, Brent, or our relationship. In fact, we didn’t talk about ourselves at all. I didn’t ask him about work, and he didn’t a
sk me about mine. We just spoke about movies and actors and timeless classics that we needed to watch again. I barely felt the time pass by, I was just so thrilled to be talking to Phil. I was even more thrilled that he was giving me this much.
I had half expected him to ignore my call or make some polite excuse after a few minutes. But he did neither, and before I knew it, we had been on the phone for almost two hours.
“Megan?”
“Yes?”
“I’ve got to go,” he said. “My shift starts in an hour, and I have to get ready.”
“Oh, right… Of course,” I said. “I’m sorry about keeping you…”
“You didn’t,” he said. “I had fun talking to you.”
I felt a little trickle of hope, and happy tears rushed to my eyes. “I had fun talking to you, as well,” I said.
“Goodnight.”
“Goodnight,” I replied back.
A second later, the line went dead, and I sat in the park for a few minutes longer, wondering if this was a brave new beginning or simply the beginning of the end.
Phil
“You seem to be in a good mood today,” Mel observed, as we sat down together at our usual table in the day room.
We had just come in from our second call in a handful of hours, and I was exhausted, but in a satisfied, accomplished sort of way. It was the best kind of exhaustion to have. It made you feel worthwhile and useful. Kendrick and Ryan were still in the shower, so it was just Mel and I at the table with a handful of sandwiches between us.
“Do I?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Well, we did get a thirteen-year-old girl out of a car just now,” I said.
“You were in a good mood before that,” Mel said, with a sly smile. “Does this possibly have anything to do with Megan?”
“No,” I said a little too quickly.
Mel smirked, having obviously not believed me. I sighed. “We talked yesterday,” I admitted. “Not about us or anything personal…just things in general. And it was nice.”
I recalled our conversation from the night before. It had lasted almost two hours, and I had hung up feeling invigorated and happy. It had reminded me of our conversations at the beginning of our tenuous relationship before we were a couple and were just establishing the parameters of our friendship. It was nice to just turn your brain off and talk about unimportant topics, without worrying about the future.
Even as I’d hung up with her, I’d wanted to call her back and talk a little bit longer. But I knew I couldn’t keep doing that if I decided that I really couldn’t forgive her. The truth was that I had refused to think about it since our meeting at the park. My head was so messed up and confused that I had decided to give myself time to calm down first before I invested in any real introspection.
However, when Megan had called last night, I had been filled with relief. I was scared somehow that she might move on and not tell me. But the fact that she had called proved that she was thinking about me, too.
I had wanted to discuss one thing in particular with her last night, but then I would have broken the unspoken agreement set up between the two of us. And that was not to discuss anything too personal and to keep things casual and general. But lately, ever since the trial, I had been thinking about my brother.
Spending a few nights in a jail cell had opened my mind to his reality, and I felt guilty about the fact that I hadn’t seen him in two and a half years. After all, I was the only family he had left, and I had basically turned my back on him when he needed me the most.
The thought struck me like a ton of bricks. Isn’t that what I had accused Megan of? Isn’t that why I was so hurt with her? And yet, I had done as much to my own brother four years ago. I had been mulling over that for the last two days, and I still hadn’t been able to find a way to handle my guilt.
“So,” Mel said, interrupting my thoughts. “Things are headed in the right direction, then?”
I looked up at him. “I don’t know yet.”
“You still love her?”
“Yes.” I nodded.
“Then shouldn’t that be your answer?”
When he said it like that, it sounded simple—everything sounded simple when an outsider put it in perspective for you. But I had a few demons of my own to exorcise first, and I needed to get that out of the way because I could focus on my relationship with Megan.
“I just need more time,” I told him.
Then I excused myself and headed to the front of the station to Sarge’s office. He was sitting behind his desk, going through something on his computer. I knocked once and waited for him to wave me inside.
“What is it Phil?” he asked.
“Good morning, sir,” I said. “I just came in to ask if I could apply for two days of leave. I’ll take on a forty-eight-hour shift afterward to make up for it.”
Sarge looked back to his computer. “When do you want to take these two days?”
“Uh…this coming Saturday or Sunday?”
“Hold on,” Sarge said, as he checked the rosters, then he looked up at me. “Is this an emergency of some sort?”
I hesitated for a moment. “To be honest… I want to go visit my brother.”
“Your brother?” Sarge said, with raised eyebrows. “The one in prison?”
“He’s the only brother I’ve got,” I said. “And, I haven’t seen him in over two years. I need to correct that now.”
“Being in jail made an impression?”
“More than you know.” I nodded. “I’ll have to travel to New York and…”
“Okay,” Sarge interrupted me.
“Okay?”
“I’ve changed the roster, you can have Sunday and Monday off, and you’ll be reporting back to work on Tuesday for your forty-eight-hour shift.”
I nodded. “Thanks, Sarge. I really appreciate this.”
He nodded and waved me out of his office. I walked back to the day room where Kendrick and Ryan had joined Mel at the table. I sat down beside Ryan and reached for a sandwich, feeling my nerves attack me suddenly.
“Fuck, dude… what happened?” Kendrick asked, looking at me with a frown.
“What?” I asked.
“You look a little pale.”
“Did you see a ghost back there or something?” Kendrick asked.
“Or did Sarge find more drugs stashed away in your locker?” Ryan asked.
I glared at him, and he smiled sheepishly at me. “Too soon?”
“Too soon.” I nodded.
“What’s wrong, Phil?” Mel asked.
“I’m taking two days off—”
“Lucky bastard,” Kendrick interjected.
“To see my brother.”
“I thought your brother was in jail?” Mel asked.
“He is.” I nodded. “I’m going to New York to visit him.”
“Intense,” Ryan said. “Family reunion, huh?”
“You could say that,” I said. “Although I doubt it’s going to be roses and rainbows.”
“Roses and rainbows?” Kendrick said. “What does that mean?”
“Easy,” I sighed. “I doubt it’s going to be easy.”
“Is there anyone you can take for moral support?” Ryan asked.
“Anyone here volunteering?” I teased.
“Hey, I’d be in for a trip to New York, except that we’re working.”
“Don’t worry about me,” I said. “I can handle this on my own.”
But when I was back at home that night, alone in my empty apartment, I wasn’t quite so sure I even wanted to do this alone. Moral support sounded pretty nice, and there was only one person I was that comfortable with. I thought twice about calling Megan, but in the end, I caved and called her anyway. She answered almost immediately, and I could tell by her tone that she was glad I had called.
“Hey, you,” she said.
“Hi,” I said, unable to match her tone.
“Is everything all right?” she asked, and immediately he
r voice changed. It was almost like she was dreading what I might say next.
“Uh… I’m not sure,” I said honestly.
There was a second or two of silence on the other end. “Whatever it is, Phil, you can tell me. Don’t worry about anything; just tell me.”
I paused for a moment. “It’s about my brother,” I said.
“What?”
I could tell that she hadn’t expected that even a little bit. I’d taken her by surprise, but there was also relief in tone. I realized that she had probably thought I was calling to tell her that I wanted to make a clean break and just end things with her for good.
“My brother…Paul,” I said. “I’ve been thinking about him a lot since my arrest.”
This was obviously violating our unspoken rule, but I didn’t care. I wanted to talk to Megan. And that made me realize that she was more than just my girlfriend…she was my best friend, too.
“Of course,” Megan said, after a moment. “You haven’t seen him in a long time, have you?”
“Two and a half years,” I replied. “We’ve had absolutely no contact. And, I think I owe you an apology.”
“Me?” Megan asked in shock. “You owe me an apology?”
“I accused you of turning your back on me when I did the same thing to my own brother,” I said.
“That’s sweet of you to say, Phil,” Megan said gently. “But your brother was guilty of the crime he was accused of. You were not.”
“I feel like it’s a small detail.”
“Is it?” she asked. “I’m not so sure.”
“Yes, he was guilty.” I nodded. “He admitted that himself… But there were a hundred different reasons he chose to make those decisions. I may not have agreed with him, but turning my back on him was not the right thing to do, whether he was right or wrong. At the end of the day, he’s still my brother.”
“I agree,” Megan replied.
“He was my hero, you know,” I said.
“You mentioned that he was.”
“I looked up to him like no one else,” I continued, thinking about how nice it was to be able to talk to someone about Paul. “It wasn’t like I had a lot of role models in my life. My father was a drunk and a deadbeat. But Paul… He was everything Dad wasn’t. At least, I thought so at the time. He was confident and sure of himself. He was decisive and in control. He commanded respect, even when he was sixteen years old.”