by Leanne Davis
They stopped at a single-story, U-shaped motel that was wrapped around a tiny pool. A door with a single window made up each unit. They checked in and dropped off their bags before returning to downtown where Ross walked Jody through the empty streets. He told her several stories of his friends or neighbors that happened here and there. When they entered his bar, he received a raucous greeting from the patrons. He leaned closer to Jody’s ear and explained, “Zenith made me famous here, but nowhere else.”
They shared a plate of nachos, the bar special, and he described his experiences working there. As Jody watched the current bartender working, she could not avoid the darkness of the place, and a deep sadness filled her. It wasn’t the kind of place that uplifted you or gave you a sense that you were going somewhere special. The sensation that life in that town was over and had been for a long time pervaded everything she looked at.
Jody liked to visit several quaint but thriving small towns around Seattle and explored them sometimes during their vacations. But this town was not like any of those. This town was distinctly different.
After driving through the scant neighborhoods that sprawled out like legs from the body of a spider, in Jody’s mind, they finally pulled over and Ross announced, “That’s my parents’ house.”
It was small and modest, neither overly neat nor a disaster. Something one might pass without reason for comment. Single story rambler with a single car garage. Visibly older, Jody guessed it was probably built sometime in the seventies. The plain front door and two windows looked just like the houses on either side of it. Grassy yard, a ramshackle, bark bed or two to break it up and painted gray.
“I haven’t spoken to them in a few years.”
“What happened the last time you saw them?”
He sighed. “I’m not sure. I mean, it was a dinner and I can’t remember what we fought about except that it ended bad so I didn’t call. When I finally did, they ignored me so I stopped calling then.”
“In a town as small as this, how could you avoid them?”
He laughed. “I’ve seen them plenty of times since then. I just don’t bother talking to them. Spotted them in the grocery store once and I ducked around a few aisles to avoid any encounter. Saw them eating out at a restaurant that I later avoided altogether, as well as driving through town or pulling into the hardware store. I never get close enough to say anything.”
“That’s so freaking odd.”
“Yeah. Actually, it’s great.”
They returned to the motel as the sun was setting. “So, those phone calls...” Hollow-toned, Ross pulled out his cell phone.
“You have all the numbers?”
“Some of them.” He tilted his head and his gaze fell on her. “Are you going to get angry at me for keeping some numbers? The numbers from some of the women I had sex with? I don’t know if this is such a good idea. I thought I didn’t want to face doing it alone. But it might be too weird for you and for me.”
“Oh, it’s weird, all right. Everything about this entire situation is uncomfortable. And tragic. And no, I’m not leaving you alone. I can deal with it. Besides, I have a list of my own. Does that bother you?”
He smiled. “It sure does. I can visualize myself pouring acid into their eyes until they forget what you look like naked. But then again, that’s just me.”
She paused. “You know how old-fashioned and sexist that sounds?”
“Does it? Maybe it’s because I never wanted to pursue something with anyone that lasted. Nothing more than a quick hookup. And now that I feel it, I don’t want to think about you being with other guys. If you feel the same way towards me,” his voice lowered and he shrugged before he finished, “I think I’d like it very much. It would make me feel special.”
Oh. His sad self-confidence. She smiled and replied, “Okay, I’ll ignore the urge to rip their eyelids off with my dull fingernails. Does that help at all?”
He laughed. “It helps. You always help me.” He pulled something up on his phone. “I made a list. I tried to go back in time, starting when I was a virgin and following through. But a few of them are pretty fuzzy in my memory. It makes me feel sick to know I can’t tell them the bad news and they could be spreading it or putting their own lives in more jeopardy.”
“I appreciate that. But at least you will tell all the ones that you can.”
“If someone from years ago called you up out of the blue, how would you want to hear that kind of news?”
“Honestly and straightforward. You could say something like, ‘I got tested for HIV and I was positive so I want you to know so you can get tested. I’m very sorry to tell you that but I just found out myself.’”
“That’s good. Thank you.” He nodded and sniffed before he finally started. The first few calls were the worst. He hesitated, hemmed and hawed, and skirted the subject to avoid spitting it out. Dancing around the topic only made it harder for him to say. He rubbed his neck and paced the small room. He also got a few angry snarls and hang-ups. Some women shed tears. Several cursed him and called him terrible names. After hanging up to a particularly bad reaction, he winced. Flopping on the bed, Ross stared at the blank screen on the phone. “I guess it’s karma, huh? I deserve that. Guess I need to fully feel that.”
“Mean responses? Yes, that sucks.”
He smiled without looking up to her. “Mean responses. That about sums it up, I guess.”
She sat beside him and slipped her arm around his waist, resting her head on his arm. “You aren’t mean, Ross. Not anymore. You’re doing the right thing. Even if it’s hard. That’s what makes you a better person than many others. Because you’re willing to do the hard thing.”
He rested his chin on her head and stayed like that for several moments. With a heavy sigh, he straightened up, and began looking down the list of numbers. Some of the women were caring and decent when they were informed. They said they were sorry to hear about him and promised to get tested. A few even promised to let him know their results. Those reactions shored him up.
Finally, after three hours of phone calls, he dropped down on the bed, physically wilting. Some of that time was spent scouring the internet for phone numbers and several dead leads. He wasted no time or energy on those he couldn’t find with no idea of their last names or even the towns where they lived.
Fulfilling his obligations insulated him from contemplating the things he learned from the doctor. His own journey and life were in his hands. He flopped back on the bed and covered his face.
“I’ve done some shitty pranks over the years in this town. I spray-painted the old water tower, broke into the sheriff’s car and moved it, caused lots of trouble with my friends, and I was known for being a womanizer and a jerk. After this gets around, people will say that karma caught up with me. Maybe I shouldn’t be embarrassed, but I feel humiliated. HIV positive. I bet they’ll say things like, who didn’t see that coming!?”
“No one should judge anyone else’s life. No matter what happened during their youth. HIV is a virus. A human disease. Not a stigma. Not a punishment. Okay? This is about health, not morality. Got that?”
He blinked and started to smile. “You always say the right thing. I can’t imagine the dark place I’d be without you here.” His voice wavered.
“I’m glad I’m here too.”
He sprang to his feet. “Should I… do you think I should tell my parents?”
“Yes. You should try to at least.”
He nodded and asked, “When?”
She shrugged. “How about now?”
He swallowed, “Now?” and shuddered. “Do I just call them?”
“Unless you prefer to see them?”
“I don’t think I’d be welcome in their house.”
Her heart clenched for him. That statement was sad, and his voice was so small, it sounded boyish. “Okay, then call them,” she decided for him.
He pushed the covers back and sat up against the headboard. “Put it on speaker so I can hea
r what they say,” Jody added.
He stared for a long time at his phone before he finally called them.
“Mom?” Hearing Ross’s hesitant, wavering, crackling tone made Jody’s heart slam with anxiety into her chest. She could hear the hope in his tone.
“What do you want?”
“I—I have something to tell you and Dad. Something you might want to know.”
“Like what?”
Ross floored Jody when he didn’t give the true reason for his call. “I had a job offer in Seattle. I played drums with a famous band called Zenith. And another band…” His pleading voice drifted off and Jody knew he was still seeking their approval. That about did her in. She wanted to grab his face and kiss him senseless, anything to convince him he was worthy of acceptance, and love and approval, if not from them, then definitely from her.
“So?”
The one word of sheer apathy. So that’s where Ross learned it. God, she was heartless. It made Jody’s skin crawl with rage. Ross wilted and leaned forward. “So… I tested positive for HIV too.”
A long pause of silence. “Well, what did you expect? After your atrocious, irresponsible behavior all those years.”
“Not much,” Ross replied softly before clearing his throat. “Well, I’ll let you go.”
“Ross?” Hearing his name from his mother’s lips made Ross curious. His finger hovered above the end button and he blinked in surprise. As if his phone were speaking to him instead of his mother.
“Yeah, Mom?” The hope, the need, and the desire for her to care, at the very least, dripped off those two words.
“Don’t ever call here again.”
He closed his eyes and nodded as if she could see him.
Just then, Jody grabbed the phone. “This is Jody Lassiter. If you don’t recognize my name, you might try looking up Nick Lassiter. That’s my father. You are an icy bitch who doesn’t deserve to lick the soles of Ross’s shoes. He is rich and powerful now. He was willing to share his wealth with you despite your insistence on being a narcissistic hag by blaming him for a death that was really your fault, wasn’t it, Mrs. Karahan?” The sneer when Jody said Mrs. Karahan was as clearly perceived as the words she said. Ross could only stare in bewilderment at her, and his mouth dropped open.
A hiss came from the other end before, “I—he killed Roland.”
“No, Ross did not kill anyone. You killed him. You know it too. You should have been a mother to your own fucking sons. Ross wasn’t Roland’s babysitter, was he? You blame a poor little kid for your own failure as a mother. You pretend like you can’t stand the sight of him because of your own inability to face the truth, don’t you? Anyway, Ross has no reason to ever call you again and as you watch his rise in the world along with all the power, fame and money that accompany it, all I can say is don’t fucking call us.” After Jody ended the call, she tossed the phone back to Ross.
His eyes were huge and his mouth was still open. Surly and agitated, Jody jumped up and started pacing until Ross finally spoke.
“None of that is true.”
“So? She doesn’t know that. Some of it is true and the last part will come true when you let me do my job for you. Fuck her.”
“I have tried for many years to say that and mean it.”
She whipped around, her fists clenched. “And let me guess, it never worked?”
“No.”
“I won’t claim to know anything about how you are feeling or were made to feel over the years. Obviously, you saw all the support I get from my family. I’ve always had that and it’s part of who I am. But Ross, your mom isn’t you. It wasn’t your fault that Roland died. They are wrong about you. And… I was too.”
He shook his head. “No, you weren’t. I proved to be everything you ever accused me of.”
“Only because of her. Now that I’ve gotten a chance to witness it, or at least to hear it, everything is much clearer now. It’s an issue, sure, something you need to handle and get over and done. It might make me appear mean too.”
“Nothing could make you appear mean.”
“Did you just hear me?”
He let out a straggled sigh. “Jody, no one ever defended me before like you just did.”
She smiled and crawled towards him, straddling his legs and staring up at him. “Someone should have stood up for you years ago. Your mother should have defended you. Not attacked you. And you should hate me for what I just did. I was rude, crude, and undignified by taking over a situation that I had no right to do. I already regret my heated reaction.”
He tilted his head and his hand cupped her chin. “You were none of those things. You were glorious. No one’s ever stood up for me like that before. Why did you?”
She stared into his eyes and saw how seriously puzzled he was. “Her callous disregard for your welfare made me lose my temper. I could not listen to her for another second or let her get away with it. She deliberately wanted to hurt you…” Leaning forward, Jody set her lips on his, kissing him long and deep. Then she said, “Deliberate infliction of pain is something I won’t tolerate. So know that right now. Not ever.”
Leaning their foreheads together, they stared at each other for a long, intense moment. “I was pretty mean to you, though. How can you forgive me?”
She pulled back to see him more clearly. “I came here to see what forces of your environment shaped your personality. Why you reacted to Rob’s news by leaving Seattle that day. And HIV was the only reason you came back. But now I see why. You might have worked your way back eventually, once you realized there was nothing left here for you. And you knew you wanted something better than this. You wanted what we both felt for each other. I guessed you’d come back. I can now see the reason you don’t believe good things can happen for you and when they do, it always ends. Maybe you end it out of habit. I think you and I have a lot to work out still, but knowing the reasons for it now, it’s not something embedded in you.”
“What if… you’re wrong?”
She snorted. “Ross Karahan… when have I ever been wrong?”
He had to laugh. “Indeed, when?” The dry, wry humor in his tone indicated he wanted to believe her but didn’t dare yet. She crawled next to him. Startled, he turned to his side and they faced each other, sharing the pillow. She put her hands under her cheek. “Ross, are you staying here now? I mean, in Indiana?”
He blinked, surprised at her question. “I… I don’t know. I mean…”
“Come back to Seattle. You have more chances and choices there. It won’t matter what the gossips here might say. My family and I won’t support any of that. As of right now, who else matters to you?”
“No one. No one else matters to me,” Ross said quietly.
Her heart thumped hard. No one?
Tilting his head, he looked away from her. “Except you,” he added so softly she almost didn’t hear him.
Jody didn’t turn him towards her but scooted closer, wrapping her arm around his chest and resting her head on his shoulder. “Then come back to Seattle with me. We’ll stare up at the stars. I swear to God, your nothing ever works out line will never be used by you again.”
“You mean, playing drums as a career?”
“Yes. Your drum playing but also… us.”
His body tensed up under hers and she could feel the steady beat of this heart. “Us? I thought you had to figure out how mean I was inside the core of me.”
“Yes. I did and I have.”
“And you decided… I’m not so mean?”
“Yeah. I’ve decided you’re not so mean.”
He lay still for a moment and suddenly moved, wrapping his arms around her body and snuggling her closer. His mouth found hers in a long, dizzying kiss. “Do you really mean that?”
She ruffled his hair with her fingertips as she lazily stroked him. Her gaze scanned over his beautiful face. “I do mean it. I love you. Just don’t ever fail me again.”
“Love?”
“Love.”
/>
She waited as he processed the word like a slow-moving turtle. Finally, his head tilted and his lips came closer to hers. “I never thought I’d say that to anyone. Much less, mean it.”
“And now?”
He nuzzled her neck with more kisses on her chin, the side of her face, and her hairline. He softly licked the outer shell of her ear. “I love you. I don’t know how to yet. But I swear to you, I will learn the right way. I can do that. If you give me a chance.”
“Well, if we stay in the same city, we might stand a chance.”
“I’ll stay.”
“You’ll come back to Seattle? For good?”
“Yes. But—” He suddenly jerked back. “You need to slow down and think about all this. The news I gave you three days ago, Jody, was serious. I have a virus I can still infect you with. A deadly, uncurable one. Even if it isn’t as tragic as it was twenty years ago, it is still a critical thing. It still has serious consequences and repercussions. How will we ever have sex?”
She brushed his hair. “By being honest and open and truly talking to each other. We will also find a way to be safe and have sex again, Ross. You aren’t marked for life.”
“I won’t risk your health.”
“You can’t make my decisions about anything. Ever. You know that. Together, we will decide how to proceed. We’ll get more advice from your doctor.”
“I don’t know why you’d want to live like that. You could choose not to, you know.”
“Because I fell in love with you. And, oh yeah, you have HIV. So I have to live like this now. And you better be the type of person who shows their resolve so if I ever do have something or get something, you’ll stick with me through it… right?”
“I never have been like that before. What if I’m not?”
“Do I sound like I’d quietly take that decision?”
He grinned. “No.”
“No. So here we are. We’re making this work. Together. And when I get you on with a big, new band and your number one song comes out everywhere and you schedule a world tour, who do you think will be right there beside you?”
“In an alternate universe, if that ever happens, is it something you’d want?”