“Good to know, thanks.”
Sam heads across the courtyard for his room above the library house, and I head for the home I share with Andie.
--
By the time I return to the house Andie is already tucking the kids into bed. Eager to avoid screwing up again, I duck into my room and close the door. It’s not long before there is a soft knock and the sound of Lina’s voice.
“Daddy?” she asks through the crack.
I stand and open the door. “Hey, Sweetie, you getting ready for bed?”
“Yeah,” she replies with a yawn. “Mom said to tell you goodnight.”
“Okay.” I pulled her in for a hug. “Sleep tight, Lina. I’ll see you in the morning.”
She pulls away, stopping before she reaches the door. “Dad?”
“Yeah?”
“Mom said you were just a little nervous and that’s why you dropped the plate.” And then her little nose scrunches up in a thoughtful look. “I told her you can’t be nervous. You’ve always been Daddy.”
“Don’t worry about it, Sweetie, this isn’t kid stuff. Mom and me, we will get it right eventually.”
I listen to her pad down the hallway to her room. Then the evening is filled with the clicking of doors being closed and lights being flicked off. When I hear Andie’s soft footsteps in the hall as she heads to her room, I lie on the bed and do the same thing I do every night: try to figure out a way to fix this.
After a few hours have passed, I roll over and pull the dog-eared copy of the Manifesto out from under my bed-if you could even call this a bed, it’s just a narrow twin mattress. At least this one has springs, even if they do squeak.
I flip to the page I’ve stared at for months. Andromeda Somers, District Matchmaker. As I stare at the photo of her I notice she looks different now, just slightly so. And looking up at the family photo I have on the dresser, I try and figure out what it is. I close my eyes, remembering what she looked like at dinner.
The only problem is Andie never looks directly at me. But she did tonight when I dropped that plate. I recall what she looks like from the side and as she faced me. She has almost the same profile as Lina, long lashes, green eyes, straight nose-I don’t know why I didn’t notice it before. I open my eyes and look at the two pictures in front of me then close my eyes and see her as I did tonight. Her nose is no longer straight. Instead, there’s a slight bump in the middle like it’s been broken.
Shit.
I toss the Manifesto under the bed and turn to lie on my back, my hands behind my head. This causes the mattress to squeal in protest to my movements. God I miss my old bed. It had one of those pillow tops, and it was King sized so my feet didn’t hang off the end. And Andie was there.
I roll again, sitting up and dropping my feet to the floor. I can’t wait any longer. I’ve wasted too much time staring at pictures and talking to the shrink. Standing, I push on my shoes and glance at the clock. It’s nearly midnight; the chances of any of the children waking up now are slim. Grasping the door handle, I turn it just so, preventing it from making much of a noise. Usually that’s impossible, almost every part of this old farmhouse groans and squeaks. When the door is open just far enough for me to fit through, I slide through, leaving it ajar for when I come back.
Walking down the hallway, I know just where to step, and just where to stop. Andie’s door is open, just like it is every night. I wait, listening, making sure she’s not awake. There’s just stillness. I take two long steps and pass her door. Tonight, I don’t bother stopping in the kitchen. I grab my jacket off the hook next to the door and slip out into the night.
I stand on the porch for a minute, pushing my arms into the jacket and zipping it. Two Guardians sleep on the far end of the porch. One of them raises its head to look at me. I glance at it before jogging down the steps and across the courtyard. When I reach the barn I slow down, there’s no point in getting the animals all worked up with me running through, that will be sure to wake up everyone out here. I stop and knock on Elvis’s office door, wait as I hear his boots as he walks across the room and pulls the door open.
“Early tonight, Ian,” he says, rubbing his eyes, his Australian accent thicker than usual at the moment.
“Can’t sleep.” I shove my hands in my jacket pockets and follow him out of the barn, across the courtyard again, and to the smaller barn that is used as a firing range. I have to admit, I wasn’t sure how I felt seeing Lina shoot a pistol for the first time. But seeing what happened here, and now realizing that something terrible happened to Andie, I’m glad she knows how to defend herself. But I don’t come out here each night to play with guns.
“You ready?” Elvis turns to me once we’re inside. He looks tired. I know he’s been training Sam during the day. Staying up late with me is probably killing him.
I hold out my left hand as he secures the straps and ties them into place. “Yeah.”
He looks up at me as he moves to secure my right hand. “I only have a few hours tonight, then the rest is up to you.”
“Okay.” I nod at him and flex my fingers.
“What do you think you’re going to get out of this?” he asks as he walks to the cupboard on the wall and pulls out a pair of gloves.
“Does it matter?”
“A man who stays up all night doing this…” he tips his gloved hand at me. “Is preparing for something.”
“And what do you think I’m preparing for?”
“Haven’t figured it out yet.”
I push my hair out of my face. “Is that a problem?” I stretch my arms across my chest, loosening the tight muscles.
“Not much of one. At least it keeps me in shape.” He pats his stomach. “Not getting any younger.”
I smile. I would guess he’s in his early forties, maybe twelve years older than me. He still looks fit, tanned. His hair has yet to turn gray. “How old are you anyway, Elvis?”
“Does it matter?” he asks with a glint of mischief in his eyes. “I’m still faster than you.” And with that, his left arm jabs forward and he punches me in the gut.
Newlyweds for two years,
and counting…
chapter eight
Andie
“Mom?” Lina’s sweet little voice breaks the silence of the morning.
“Yes, Lina.”
“Are you going to kiss Daddy today?”
The plate that I’m washing slips out of my hands, landing with a loud thunk at the base of the wide sink basin. We had a similar conversation months ago, she had asked me why we don’t sleep in the same bed like we used to.
I was hoping she would let the topic pass. “Do you remember our talk about appropriate conversations at the table?” I ask her softly.
I don’t tell her that I’m afraid to push him back to being like that. And that right now he thinks I might still be a bit innocent, he might actually trust me. But I know all that will change if I tell him what I did. If he knew that I killed a man, I know he would never look at me again. I might actually lose him for good, for forever.
“I remember some things.” She sips at her hot cocoa. “I remember that you used to love him, you used to kiss him. But you don’t anymore.”
“Yes, well…” I never expected the conversation to take this route, and I’m not sure what to say. As I stir my coffee, I move to sit at the table. I look across the table and Raven stares at me, toast in hand, lips pursed, awaiting my response. Astrid’s all nervous eyes, waiting to hear what I say.
“And then everything changed and you loved Adam.” Raven looks to Lina when he hears the name. “Do you think he went to heaven?” Lina continues as Raven’s eyes flick towards the ceiling.
“Yes. I hope.” I hear footsteps in the hall. Ian walks into the kitchen, buttoning the top button of his shirt as he walks towards the coffee maker. “Finish your breakfast, Lina. Today Raven goes to school with you.”
Raven turns to me. Silent as usual. He bites at the toast in his hand and chews it thou
ghtfully.
Lina and Astrid finish their toast and cocoa. Then Lina takes the dishes to the sink. She returns to the table, standing by Raven’s chair. “Come on, Raven, let’s go brush our teeth.” She holds her hand out and Raven places his chubby hand in hers. He slips down from the chair and follows the girls to the bathroom. Stevie follows closely behind them, dipping her head every few steps to pick up the toast crumbs that fall off of Raven’s clothes as he walks.
“Is he ever going to speak?” Ian asks from behind me.
I stand and bring my mug to the sink. “I don’t know,” I tell him.
He stares at me, expectantly, like I might reach up on my tip-toes and kiss him goodbye for the day. Like I used to years ago. I haven’t brought myself back to that. I’m not sure if I can. It’s been getting better. Two years later and we can speak in a few sentences at a time to each other, full sentences, without awkward pauses or abrupt endings.
I bring the children to the school house and return to make the beds, fold the clothes, and do the wifely things that women do. Normal things that normal women do, not the things that are expected of me, things like helping Crane run the world, like deciding on the future of the Residents.
I open my drawer, a pile of shirts in my hand. I stop before placing them inside. The black T-shirt is there. Adam’s T-shirt. I reach in with my free hand, running my finger over it before pulling it out and placing my pile of clothes in its place. I stare at the shirt in my hands; the scent of it is starting to fade. It almost smells more like my own clothes than him. I know I shouldn’t, but I press the shirt to my face. I breathe in deeply, smelling the last bit of him. And the memories, they’re like a drug still.
I need to stop this.
“Andie?” Ian’s voice interrupts me.
Remembering I left the bedroom door open, I turn quickly, hiding the shirt behind my back. “Yes?” I ask out of breath, as though I ran a mile… or twelve.
I didn’t run though, I just relived two years of a life I had with another man in one breath, one man who was not my husband.
Ian looks around the room, taking in my bed, the crib, the rocking chair. He shouldn’t be here right now. He should be at the nuclear plant, running the place, just like Crane wants. Ian walks to the crib, places his hand on the rail.
“We could rearrange,” he tells me.
“What do you mean?” I stand still, clenching the shirt behind my back still.
“Put Raven in my room, give you more space in here.”
“Then where would you sleep?”
“The master bedroom,” he replies without looking at me.
I tense at his suggestion. My room is the master bedroom. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why?”
“Because, things have changed.”
“We could learn to make it work,” he pleads.
I know his eyes are searching my face. I just can’t bring myself to look at him. Why? Because I was just sniffing the shirt of my dead lover, reliving all those memories, and that’s just as bad as openly cheating. Which I kind of did already. Ian will see it all over my face. He probably does already.
“I’m not ready,” I force out.
“When will you be ready?”
“I don’t know.”
“It’s been two years, Andie. He’s been dead for two years. Don’t you think it’s time to move on?”
That’s it. “You know, that’s the same thing Crane said to me about you, Ian, when I begged him to give you back to me. I don’t need to be reminded of how long he’s been dead for. I remember each time Raven has a birthday.”
“Andie-”
“What, Ian? What do you want?”
“You’ve changed,” he tells me, glancing at me from head to toe.
“We’ve both changed,” I remind him.
He sighs, running his hand through his hair. He needs it cut. But I’m not going to tell him. I don’t tell him much, besides hello and goodbye and the garbage is full. Unless he has a question. I usually answer his questions.
“Is that his shirt?”
“What?”
“Behind your back. Is that his shirt?”
Shit. “I just found it,” I lie to him.
“Sure you did.” He reaches to the side, tapping his fingers on the dresser near the door.
Seems I’m still a particularly bad liar.
I can’t take this. “You know, Ian, I’ve spent so much time wishing things could go back to the way they were when it was just the three of us, before all of this. I never wanted this, Ian. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I haven’t gotten over him yet, and I’m sorry I had to stand in that delivery room and help deliver your son as another woman gave birth to him. I’m sure you can see how hard this is for me. You’re not helping right now.”
“What do you need?” he asks. “We’ve been living like this for two years. What can I do to help you?” His face is tense, concerned.
“Space. I just need some time and some space. I just need everyone to stop pushing me.”
“Fine.”
I pull my arms in front of me, making it apparent that I was in fact reminiscing over an old shirt. “Thanks,” I whisper.
“Andie?” Ian’s face seems to waver between concern and annoyance, the furrow in his brow returning to smooth skin just a moment after it appears.
“Yeah.”
“Be careful.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean Crane. You keep stomping on his toes… he’s not going to take it much longer. I’m surprised he’s dealt with you this long.”
I wasn’t expecting that from him. “I know, Ian. Let me deal with Crane. I’ve dealt with him on my own for years.”
“I know.” I hear him tap his fingers one last time. “I’ve seen what he’s done to you.”
I don’t want to talk about what he’s done to me. I have other plans for this day. “Ian?” I ask.
“What?”
“Can you get the kids when they’re done with class? There’s something I have to do.”
He eyes me warily. “Yeah. Sure. Anything you need.”
“Thanks.”
He leaves the room.
I stand still, waiting to hear him walk out the door before I head for the door myself, taking the shirt with me. Something catches my eye on the dresser as I pass it. I stop, looking at the top of the dresser which is usually bare. Except for now, right now, where Ian’s hand was resting, is a gold ring. I reach out and touch it. It’s my wedding band. I don’t know where he found it. I only remember not having it anymore. I can’t even remember when it went missing. I unclasp the necklace from around my neck and thread the chain through the ring. It makes a small clang as it falls against the owl charm Adam gave me. I re-clasp the necklace and straighten my shoulders.
Now I have one thing left to do: I have to end this affair with a T-shirt.
Leaving the room, shirt in hand, I head for the tool shed. As I get closer I can hear someone is in there shooting. I slip in the door, trying to be as quiet as possible. Sam stands at the far end of the building, his stance rigid as he demolishes the target in front of him. I reach for the wall, pulling a shovel from its resting place, then sneak out the door and head for the fields.
Standing in front of Adam’s gravestone with the freshly disturbed earth at my feet, I think to myself that maybe I should have done this a long time ago. Maybe it would have made forgetting him easier. Still, I’m not sure if I want to forget him, all of him. I never even got to say goodbye, or thank you for saving my life, for giving me Raven. I pull his shirt from the waist of my jeans. I stare at it, wanting to press it to my face so badly even though I know it’s not going to help. I know it will just keep things the way they are, with me unable to move on.
I toss the shirt in the shallow hole I just dug. “Goodbye, Adam.” I tell the chiseled gray granite. With each shovel-full of dirt the shirt becomes less visible. The soft fabric wilts under the
weight of the earth until I can see it no more.
Moving on should be easier, now that I’ve buried his T-shirt and the temptation to relive the short time I had with him.
chapter nine
“I don’t want to meet you anymore,” I tell Dr. Akiyama. I’m tired of these twice-weekly sessions.
He looks up at me, bored with my declaration. “And why is that, Andromeda?” he asks with a frown.
“I asked you to call me Andie.”
“Okay, Andie, why don’t you want to participate in these sessions any longer?”
“Because I have too much going on. Raven is two, Lina is carrying a heavier course load, I have Astrid living with us, and there are Residents that need to be paired. I don’t have the time to drive here and meet with you.”
“You must uphold the values of the District, of the Sovereign-”
“I know,” I grumble at him. “I have.”
“Crane suggests we meet until you’ve made progress.”
“I have!” I practically shout at him.
He slaps his notebook closed. “Tell me about your progress.” He folds his hands in his lap, his face takes on an open expression, his eyebrows raised just slightly so. “Well?”
“I…” I try to think about the progress we’ve made over the past two years.
“Do you speak to Ian?”
“Yes.”
“In complete sentences?”
“Mostly.”
“Are you letting him help you around the house?”
“Sometimes he gets the kids from school, when I need him to.”
“Are you affectionate towards each other?”
I feel my body stiffen, it’s almost an unconscious reaction.
“I see,” Dr. Akiyama responds before I can say anything. “You still refuse to come here with him. How do you expect to make a real progress in your marriage? You can’t live like this forever. Don’t you think two years of living like this is enough? Perhaps it’s time to move on.”
“I know.” I don’t tell him that I buried my temptations in front of Adam’s gravestone. At lease I have been able to let those memories go and move on with my life.
The Phoenix Project Series: Books 1-3: The Phoenix Project, The Reformation, and Revelation Page 60