Let Me Live

by Shirley Anne Edwards

  I lifted the cat, and she licked under my chin. At least someone in the shop was happy to see me. I couldn’t tell what Benny thought. His face was a blank slate. He’d trimmed his beard recently, and he wore a black tank top that showed off his fully tatted arms. I knew each tattoo on his sleeves ever since that night I spent at his place. It wasn’t that long ago, even if it felt like it had been a year.

  I approached the desk and placed the cat on it. The cat yawned and then closed her eyes. She stretched out, covering the top of the desk, a barrier between me and Benny.

  “Are you here to finally get a tattoo or to give me some lame excuse why you’re too busy to talk to me?” He added more space between us by backing up against the curtain.

  “I’ve had the week from hell. I don’t know if you heard, but John, the shooter died—”

  “I know all about it. But what does it have to do with us? Why are you ghosting me? Is it just me or have you done that to your other friends?” He glared at me. “Did you do it to Theo?”

  In another situation, hearing the jealousy in his voice about Theo would have thrilled me, but it could have just been an assumption on my part. His anger was the emotion to acknowledge at this moment. His possible jealousy was something to discuss later, if he still wanted me in his life.

  “I haven’t talked to him much either. My parents want him to write a scoop for the New York Times about my relationship with John and the shooting. We decided I should tell my side of the story,” I explained.

  “Gonna write a tell-all now?” He snorted and continued to stare me down.

  “No. Just an interview with the paper and with 60 Minutes, something my mom has been pushing for.” I petted the cat to give my hands something to do. “We’re going to do it tomorrow at her beach house in Rehoboth. We’re headed there now.

  “You’re cool with your mom again?” he asked, although he sounded fake.

  “I think so. We had a good talk. She’s waiting in the car outside. I wanted to see you before I left.”

  “You’ve seen me, now you can leave.” He opened the curtain to leave.

  “Wait!” I moved to the side of the counter. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but please don’t be angry at me. I have so much shit I need to work through—”

  He held up his hand. “I know, Marshall. But did you ever stop and think I can help you? Why are you pushing me away? What are you afraid of?”

  “I don’t want to hurt you. I’m not in a good place right now. I can’t pretend with you that everything is great.” My voice finally cracked.

  “I don’t expect you to pretend with me. It wouldn’t be fair to either of us if we did.” He clutched the curtain, keeping his distance. “Go get your head on straight, and then we’ll see about us.”

  “It might be a while.” I came to the realization that what we once had, even for a short time, might never be the same.

  “You’ll probably figure something out before the summer ends. You have too much going on for you not to get it all together.” He gave me a sad smile. “I’m not going to be around either. I’m going home for a few weeks, see the fam, and to celebrate my grandmother’s hundredth birthday. She was born on July fourth.”

  “I’m not sure what my plans are after the Fourth. It should be interesting once my interview airs.” It was going to be insane after, something I wasn’t looking forward to at all.

  “I thought you had it together? You’re not sure of much, are you?” He didn’t roll his eyes, but I heard it in his voice. He was pissed at me, and I didn’t know how to fix it so he wouldn’t be.

  “You always had more confidence in me than I did. I wish you could have known me before… I went away to college.” He gave me the confidence just by knowing him. I wished he understood that. I wished I could make him. But even if I tried to tell him, he wouldn’t believe me. It hurt more than it should.

  “You really mean before the shooting.” He shifted forward and then stopped. A few feet separated us, but we were both too stubborn to meet halfway. “You’re letting one event in your life define you.”

  “That event, as you call it, was life-changing.” Frustration bubbled in my chest. Why was he acting so cruel to me now when he never had before? All because I went silent this week?

  “I’ve had my share of some life-changing events. One of which I told you about because I trust you. It made me who I am today.” He pressed a fist to his chest. “But I don’t continue to obsess over them. Maybe it’s different for me because they happened years ago, while yours are still too fresh. The shooting has changed you and you have to confront it. Maybe it’s best if you take the time for yourself and be with those who care about you and can help you move on.”

  “You’re not one of them?” I fingered the fading hickey on my neck instead of my wound.

  He rubbed his bearded chin and then tugged on his bottom lip. He then shrugged, making my heartbeat echo in my ears.

  I would play it cool and not start an argument with him. He would continue to shut down if I did. As much as I wanted to be with him, to make him understand, I couldn’t do it now. My time was up.

  “Okay.” I nodded and backed away. “I better go before my mom starts honking the horn. Can I call or text you when I get to Delaware?”

  “If you want. I’ll be busy traveling and catching up with my family.”

  And that was the goodbye, see you, don’t let the door hit you on your ass on your way out. I was welcome to try and keep us together, but I would end up failing.

  I surrendered, lifting my hand in goodbye, and made my way to the exit. I looked at Benny, who now opened the curtain and stood farther behind it. He watched me as I watched him. Maybe he wanted to remember me, as I did him.

  I walked outside just as it started to rain. Fat drops fell on my head, and as I made my way to Mom and her car, a flash of light went off, blinding me. It was a photographer who caught me unaware. I stood there in shock as he took more pictures in a matter of seconds, taking a piece of me, in a moment of time, to show the world how vulnerable I truly was, but not for the reasons they would assume. I would let them believe what they wanted while I mourned the real reason I suffered in the rain.

  “MAY I join you?” Mom asked while she blocked the sun.

  “Sure.” I moved to the edge of the blanket to make room. It was big enough for two people to share, especially for sitting on the beach.

  She settled next to me barefoot. I wore my swimsuit and a red T-shirt with an anchor in the middle but hadn’t been in the water for hours. The day had slipped away. The weather in Rehoboth had been perfect—eighty degrees and sunny, with the exception of our first day here. I spent most of my days relaxing by the water and reconnecting with Mom.

  “I just got off the phone with the producer of your segment that’s airing Sunday night. She said it came out well, and she’ll send a file of the segment to my email if we want to watch it before it airs.” She wiggled her toes in the sand.

  “Did you tell Dad yet?” He called us every day, usually in the morning.

  “Not yet. I did call Duke. He’s on his way here.” She turned to me. “Are you sure it’s okay if he stays the weekend—”

  “Yeah. I’m fine. It will give me a chance to get to know him better. It’s about time I did.” I was really trying to be more accepting of how she lived her life and her relationship, even with Duke, the man she left Dad to be with.

  “He’s excited to spend the weekend with us. He loves to grill. I hope you like swordfish because it’s his favorite food to grill and eat at the beach.” Her tone matched the breeze in the air, but with an undercurrent of caution I couldn’t help but notice.

  “You don’t have to be nervous. I’ll be on my best behavior with Duke,” I said.

  She tucked her knees to her chest and set her chin on them. “I’m not nervous how you two will be with one another. Before I came down here, your dad called. You got a letter in the mail.”

  It didn’t take much gues
sing to figure out who the letter was from. Guilt slammed my chest. These were most likely the last words I would read from John, but it wouldn’t be closure for me and my family or the victims and their families. Although he was now dead, his death wouldn’t give anyone much relief. He’d suffered exactly like those he shot and killed. Most wouldn’t mourn his passing. They would cheer it. Some might remain bitter they didn’t have a chance to confront him in court. They would never get the retribution they wanted because another person stole it from them just like he stole their loved ones from them.

  “Are you worried the press will find out about the final letter or how I’ll respond to it once I read it?” I didn’t have any real emotion when I read John’s letters, with the exception to the first one.

  “Do you want your dad to destroy the letter? You can pretend it never existed,” she said with a question in her voice. For once she wasn’t pushing me to do it her way. It was up to me.

  “After I finished the interview, I called Shiri to tell her since they interviewed her for the show before me.” I pulled my sunglasses over my eyes as the light from the setting sun blinded me. “She said she got a letter from John a week before he was killed. She hasn’t read it yet.”

  “Was she the only one besides you to get a letter?”

  “Looks like it.” I tossed some pebbles at the water. “She wants to know if I’ll come visit her. Her parents want to meet me, and she would like to show me Jordan’s grave since I couldn’t go to his funeral because I was recovering.”

  “I think that would be nice.” She tightened her arms around her legs. “Has she decided what her plans are for the fall?”

  “I don’t think she’ll return to NCU.” I let the sand fall through my fingers where it belonged. “I don’t think I can go back there either. I do want to return to school, but right now… I don’t know.”

  She drew her arm around my shoulders but kept it light. The barriers between us were still there, but they were slowly lessening. Coming here with her was the first step on my part to make things better between us. I needed my mother right now even though our relationship was still fragile.

  “You don’t have to decide right now about school. You can always take a semester off. You need to get better first.” She rested her hand on my shoulder.

  I pressed my hand on hers. “I’m scared. I don’t know if I can do this.”

  “This? Afraid of speaking to someone who can give you better advice than me or your father, who can help you get better? Or our relationship?” she asked.

  “Both.” I exhaled hard. “What if I can’t get better mentally or what if you still feel I’m not the type of son you want me to be?”

  “Oh, Marshall.” She lowered her head and gripped my hand. “Just be you, the person you’ve always been.”

  But will you love me if I am? If I asked, she would probably say yes because of where we were and what we were currently going through. But a small piece of me had to wonder if she really did love me like I wanted to love her. I was lucky to have many people in my life, like Dad, who accepted me without question. He had always been there and always would be. He understood me, much like Benny had when—

  Oh, Benny.

  “Who’s Benny?” Mom asked.

  I hated how I’d developed this bad habit of saying something aloud even while I said it in my head. I could just brush it off because I really didn’t think she wanted to hear about my feelings for another man, but then… I could test her to see if she was authentic when she said she wanted to understand me better.

  “Benny owns the tattoo parlor. That’s who I saw before we left for Rehoboth.” I turned to look at her. “I, ah, was thinking about getting a tattoo for my birthday and since his shop is the only one in Albee, I went there.”

  She pushed my sunglasses down my nose as she stared at me. “A tattoo, Marshall? Once you get it on your body, it’s forever. What type?”

  “I don’t know what I want yet.” I took off my glasses. “You don’t want to ask me a zillion questions about Benny?”

  “Of course I have questions about this man who, from the way you talk about him, is more than just a tattoo artist to you.”

  “He is. But he’s a respected businessman in Albee and has money. Er, he’s a little older than me, but he comes from a good family.”

  “Good family?” She removed her arm and brushed the sand off her palms.

  “He’s a Hayes. His aunt also happens to be the vice president, and she’s a conservative Republican, so that should impress you.”

  She laughed and slapped her knees. “He’s the same as his aunt?”

  “I’m not sure if he associates with a political party, but he’s… gay like me. I like him. He likes me, or did.”

  “Liked you, as in the past?” She straightened her legs again and sat up, but not in her usual rigid stance to show she was angry or upset. She was still pretty relaxed, which made me relieved.

  “He wasn’t happy I didn’t call him back or text him for a week after the news about Jo… you-know-who’s death. I think I pushed him away because of all the sh… stuff that’s going on. I’m not sure I can give him what he needs because I’m still messed up.” I never thought in a million years I’d have this conversation with my mother about my love life.

  “Right now you have to think about your needs so you can get better. That’s what you keep telling me. Can this Benny help you find peace?”

  Peace? I wasn’t sure one person could do it, not even someone like Benny. But if I didn’t let him try, I would never know. I did want him. But how could I show him how much?

  “He made me feel good about myself. I’ve never met anyone like him. He also understands what I’m going through because he went through it when he was younger. There was a shooting at his high school.”

  She cursed. “What are the odds two people involved in school shootings would meet? I can’t believe it’s become the new normal.”

  “Maybe in the future it won’t be. Maybe if I can get my shit together, I can make sure it’s not the new normal.”

  She smiled and patted my back. “You will get you shit together. I’ll do everything I can to make sure it happens.” She took out her cell from her pocket and checked it. “Duke is here. Want to go back to the house?”

  I stared at the ocean as the sun set. The rays of light didn’t hurt my eyes as before. The yellow and orange in the sky made me want to stay until night arrived. “I think I’ll sit here for a few more minutes and watch the sunset.”

  She rose and stretched. “It should be a nice night. We’ll eat on the deck.”

  “I’ll help Duke with dinner. We can bond over food,” I joked, but a part of me hoped I could connect with the man Mom had given up so much to be with.

  “He would like that.” She leaned down and kissed my cheek. “I would like that.”

  As she turned to leave, I grabbed her hand. “Thank you for listening to me and not judging, especially about Benny.”

  “I’m trying. I don’t want to lose you like I almost did in February.” She squeezed my hand and then left me.

  I stared ahead as the waves broke over the sand and the sun slowly dipped into the ocean. It was quite sudden, but a feeling of calm rushed over me. I would have lain on the blanket and watched the sky darken as the stars came out. But I wanted to memorize how the sun hit the ocean, its rays leaving bursts of color on the water. It was then I decided what I wanted to tattoo on my wound. Then this scene before me would stay with me forever.

  I clicked a picture of the setting sun and sent it to Benny with the words—this is what I want for a tattoo. How soon can you do it?

  It was a torturous five minutes while I waited for him to respond. When he did, I fell back on the blanket in relief.

  My schedule is free. I’ll even give you a discount but you have to come to me for it.

  I called him. He picked up after two rings. Staring up at the darkening sky, I spotted a star twinkling, and smiled as
I asked him the best way to get to California, and fast.

  Chapter Eighteen

  THE BUILDING in front of me was brick but had a bright yellow shingle roof. The restaurant was surrounded by a lot of trees and shrubs, plus salsa music came from speakers in the wall. The weather was pretty much the same as it was in Delaware, but I sweated underneath my tan blazer mainly because I was nervous. I hoped when I took off my jacket, I didn’t have stains on my pink dress shirt. Benny would probably expect me to wear my black shirt since he liked it on me. But for tonight’s occasion, I went for the more preppy look because I was meeting his family at his grandmother’s birthday party.

  I made a quick stop at the hotel to freshen up from my flight. Even though I traveled on my own—a first for me—I wasn’t as anxious as I thought I would be. Mom and Dad, on the other hand, almost talked me out of coming. But when reporters showed up at the beach house, they relented, even letting me charge the plane ticket on one of their credit cards. And now here I was, ready to walk into a room full of strangers with the exception of Benny, who would make me feel like I belonged.

  I moved toward the entrance and through the double doors that brought me to the main dining room with a long bar on the side. A woman in a black dress and a man in a dark suit stood behind the stand. She smiled in welcome, while the man viewed me with polite interest.

  “Hello, I’m here for the Montero party. My name is Marshall Caryll, and I’m a guest of Bernard Hayes,” I said.

  The woman tapped her iPad and stared at the screen. “Yes, you’re on the list. Arlo will escort you to the room in the back.”

  “Follow me.” The man waved me to him. Although there weren’t many diners, there were some men in suits standing rigid near the bar and down the hall where we went.

  “Who are the men in the suits? Secret Service?” I joked, wondering if Benny’s grandmother had some sort of security because of her deceased husband.