by L. M. Carr
JENNA PICKS UP the phone after only two rings and tells me to come over immediately. I catch the Blue Line and am on her doorstep within twenty-five minutes.
“Do you mind if I take a shower?” I mumble through a sniffle, curling my knees underneath me. I move the bag of frozen mixed vegetables from my lip to my cheek. I shiver from the cold when I place the bag on the base of my neck to soothe the deep ache.
“Of course! You don’t need to ask.” Jenna rubs my back, offers two Tylenol and a tall glass of water. I don’t tell her what’s happened; she already knows. The story of my mother is nothing new.
“Simon’s coming over later. We were going to catch a new band, but I don’t have to go. I can cancel and stay here with you.”
I offer a tight smile, remembering the last time I saw Simon, and shake my head. “No, you go. I’ll be fine. Besides, I’m mad at him.”
“Remy…” she sighs sympathetically.
If she knew the reason I’m mad at him, she’d wipe that sad smile right off her face.
“Please don’t. Don’t try to fix things, Jenna. I said I’ll be fine and I will.” I run my tongue over the swollen part of my upper lip.
She inhales a deep breath and lets it out slowly, searching my face and coming to stop at the bruise on my cheekbone. Once again fat tears threaten to fall so I look away.
“I’ll tell Simon to grab a couple of movies from RedBox,” she counters. While I appreciate her attempts to make things better, to make things normal, the truth is I’m not normal and my life is anything but.
“No. Just go. I need some time alone.” I blink away the moisture from my eyes. “I’m going to go to bed after I shower and just rest for a while.”
I drag myself to the shower and wash away the grease, sweat and salt as the hot water pelts my face. I eye the bar of soap and seriously consider scrubbing my eyes with it to wash out the images I can never erase. I wish soap could cleanse my mind of the sounds no child should ever hear.
I towel dry my hair and dress quickly in a pair of leggings and a T-shirt. Using the corner of the towel to wipe the mirror free of steam, I notice the bruise high on my right cheekbone and my puffy lip. Surprisingly, it’s not as bad as it feels. My fingertips graze the light purple mark as I wonder how I can cover it. I pull the vanity drawer open to find a small bottle of liquid concealer and a tube of foundation. I dot my cheekbone lightly and blend the smooth liquid over my face just like I watched Candy and my mother do for so many years. When I’m sure the mark is well-hidden, I put the makeup away and close the drawer.
I gather my clothes, walk out into Jenna’s room, lie flat on the floor, and stare at the ceiling fan. The constant whirring sound of the blades circling around and around carry my thoughts away from my mother, taking me to a place of solace and peace, to a place where I ran barefoot on soft green grass and picked wildflowers. I feel my body relax as the tension slowly dissipates and eases away.
“Remy?” Jenna pokes her head through the door. “Here’s your phone.”
I simply nod my thanks.
“You okay?”
I nod again.
“Shane texted you,” she says hesitantly before tossing my phone on top of the striped blanket that covers the small twin-sized bed.
Shane. Oh God, sweet Shane shouldn’t get involved with someone like me. He’s good. I’m not.
“If you change your mind about coming out with us, let me know. You could use a night out.”
No, what I could really use is a new life.
“Remy? Are you gonna be okay?”
I hate the pity I detect in my best friend’s voice. Silently, I lift my arm and give her a thumbs up. I lie there for hours until the evening sun fades, casting a shadow through the window. Even the sound of my phone ringing doesn’t make me move. My heavy lids flutter until I am fast asleep.
When a loud bang on the door startles me awake, I bolt up, disoriented and confused. “Jenna?” I scramble to my feet and peek through the narrow space of the door that was left ajar. Only the sound of the TV is heard over my whispered voice. Bang. Bang. Bang. I swallow down the fear threatening to cripple me as I look around and my eyes locate Jenna’s closet. The sound of banging on a door brings back horrible memories.
“Come out, come out wherever you are.” His raspy voice cackled as he banged on my bedroom door while I sat silently, tucked away in the back of my closet, praying and wishing so hard that I could be a mouse and hide in the hole.”
I open the door slowly and glance around the small living room before grabbing a large blue umbrella from the coat rack. Cautiously, I approach the front door. Bang. Bang. Bang.
“Open the door.” Haunting words frighten me and fear paralyzes me. I glance to my right, looking for an alternate escape route, but even if I could get to the window, it’s too high to jump. Bang. Bang. Bang.
When the banging persists with the added calling of my name, I stand on the tips of my toes and peer through the peep hole. I jump back when I see Shane standing there with a combination of anger and worry on his face.
“Remy? Are you in there?”
Go away, Shane. Go live your life. Be happy! I’m not the girl for you. All these thoughts swirl around in my head and as much as I want to scream, I remain still and silent. How did he know I was here? I can’t talk to him right now. I don’t want him to see me like this. He doesn’t need to see this part of me.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
From Jenna’s bedroom, I hear my phone ring. It stops and then starts again.
“Remy? If you’re in there, please open the door,” he pleads.
My body is immobile; fear has a tight grip on me.
I hear a thud against the other side of the door. I turn around and slide down, pulling my legs into my chest. I bury my head in shame.
Once again my phone rings and I hear Shane’s voice mumble repeatedly, “Answer the phone. Answer the phone.”
Please, just go away. Please, just go.
“Hey. Sorry to bother you again Jenna, but Remy’s not here. Do you have any idea where she might’ve gone?” His voice is strained as he talks. “You sure you don’t mind calling her? Thanks. Yeah, call me back.”
I creep to the room just as my phone begins to ring again. I grab it, swipe the screen and whisper, “Jenna?”
“Remy?” Shane breathes a deep sigh.
Shit! I tap the red button to end the call.
Inhaling deeply, I slip my phone into my back pocket and make way back to the front door. My phone rings again. It’s no use trying to hide. He knows I’m here. I expel the deep breath and unlock the door to face him. Dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, he stands there with worry and frustration etched on his beautiful face. One hand holds the phone to his ear while the other rubs the deep line across his forehead.
I don’t greet him. I open the door wide and step back so he can enter. As much as I don’t want to talk to anyone right now, I have to talk to him. I owe him that much.
After four steps, he whips around and looks at me. His eyes are filled with a million questions. “What’s going on?”
I stare at him and say nothing. Guilt and shame force my eyes away from him.
“Why can’t you look at me? What are you avoiding? Tell me what’s wrong.”
Exhaling sharply, I shake my head and finally draw my eyes upward to look at him. I see compassion. I see understanding.
“Talk to me.” He steps forward and I immediately take a step back.
I shake my head once again as the single tear I tried to blink away escapes and falls onto my cheek. There’s a painful ache in my throat. I’m not sure it’s raw from berating my mother or from the pressure of my heart expanding in my chest.
My phone rings and quickly I answer it when I see Jenna’s name appear. “I know. I’m fine.” On a hushed whisper, I try to cut her off before she has the opportunity to ask questions I’m not ready to answer. I hope my words ease the panic and worry I hear in her voice. “No, I don’t want to
see him right now.” She explains that Simon is worried about me, but I don’t care. “Tell him not to come over.” I hear Simon asking to speak to me, but I can’t talk to him yet. “I promise. Yes…I know.”
I close my eyes and exhale roughly, needing to rid myself of the anger raging within me. Anger at my mother. Anger at Simon. And now undue anger at Shane.
I find Shane’s face filled with tender emotion as he moves closer and takes my hand in his. “So you’re willing to talk to Jenna but not me?” His thumbs smooth over my knuckles. “Remy, I don’t know what to do here. You’ve got to help me out.”
I wipe angrily at my face, hating that I’m crying once again.
“Do you want me to leave?”
I know that if I were to say “yes” he wouldn’t listen to me anyway. So for a third time, I shake my head. My chin begins to quiver and I choke back a sob.
“Come here,” he opens his arms and without a second moment’s thought, I step in and let him wrap his arms around me. My petite body is covered by his hard muscle and tanned skin as he pulls me into the safety of his arms.I wrap my arms around his back and grip his T-shirt tightly. A painful lump lodges in my throat as I bury my face in his chest and cry. I don’t just cry; I release a full blown, gut-wrenching and desperate wail.
“Sweetheart, I’m right here. Let me help you,” he whispers before he kisses the top of my head and rubs circles on my back. “Let me help you.”
I wish it were that simple. I wish he could take me away from here. I wish I could be the All- American girl to match the All-American boy. But I’m not; I’m an All-American whore’s daughter and no one can help me. No one can.
With my head against his chest, I feel the thumping; I can hear the loud and strong beating of his heart. Everything about him screams masculinity and strength. Everything screams goodness and wholesomeness. Well—almost everything.
I hiccup and wipe my nose, looking around for a tissue. He steps back and pulls at the hem of his T-shirt to dry my face. Carefully, he wipes away what will hopefully be the last tears I shed for my mother.
Shane’s hard body bristles with immediate anger when his fingers glide over my cheek bone and I wince.
“My God, what happened to your face? Who did this? Did Simon do this?” His jaw tightens and begins to tick as the blue in his eyes turns dark. “I’ll kill that son of a bitch with my bare hands, Remy.”
I tuck my hair behind my ear and wipe beneath my eyes before opening my mouth to speak. It’s the moment of truth. “No! Simon would never hurt me. He’s like a brother to me.” My heart stings with those few deceitful words. Simon and I used to be close. The man whom I love so much is slowly once again becoming a stranger. “Come sit with me. I need to tell you something.”
He doesn’t move, instead he takes deep breaths to calm down. I reach for his hand and work to unclench his fists. “Please,” I beg of him.
Moments later, he relinquishes and allows me to guide him to the couch where I sit curled up with my knees pulled in against my chest and my back against the cushions. Shane sits close to me, effectively trapping me in the corner of the couch. With one subtle move, his fingertips are laced with mine and I love the feel of it.
This man. This beautiful, strong, kind man is going to destroy my path; he’s going to derail me. Every cell in my body seems to be racing around in response; some running toward him, others away from him.
“Shane, why are you here? Why did you come find me?”
“You’re my girlfriend. Why wouldn’t I be worried when you didn’t return my calls or texts?” His honesty makes my heart smile “And I had a bad feeling.”
It takes me a moment to gather my thoughts because I’m not sure how he knew something was wrong. I look at the smooth skin of his face and the perfect dirty blond hair and wonder why a guy like him is interested in a girl like me. I exhale deeply because I know the answer. The lust I see in his eyes has been reflected in the eyes of so many others.
“Shane, I like you. I really like you, but I don’t think we should see each other anymore. I’m not good for you. And if I’m being honest with myself, you’re not good for me either. We’re such different people who come from different worlds.” I’m surprised by my ability to control my tone even though my insides are screaming loudly. “Besides, you have no idea who I am.”
“I know you. I know that you make me laugh. I know that I feel good when I’m with you. I know that I think about you all the time. I know that you are someone I could fall in love with.” So much truth is revealed in his blue eyes as he searches my face. “I know that I want you.” And there it is…it comes down to a three letter word. Sex.
I want to smile and tell him how wonderful I think he is, but I don’t. And so with a heavy heart, I offer the words I’m confident will push him away.
“Let me tell you a little bit about what you don’t know about me. I am the bi-product of a John and a teenage runaway. I am dirt poor and live in the most decrepit conditions. I lived in foster care for most of my life.” I take a deep breath before continuing because the worst is yet to come.
“I don’t care.”
“There’s more. Not only am I all of those things, but I am the daughter of a heroin-addicted prostitute.” I am overcome with shame as my face falls. I hate having to admit these words, to know that I’m going to be judged for something I didn’t choose. “Shane, my mother is a whore. She uses her body to pay for drugs. The debts grows every single day and when she can’t pay them, I—”
“I don’t care.” He interrupts me, suddenly turning to face me and lifting my face, cupping it gently. “I don’t care about any of that.” His mouth crushes against mine and I kiss him back ardently, ignoring the throb emanating from my bruised lip. “I do know you. All of those things don’t make you who you are, Remy. Those were circumstances beyond your control. You didn’t make those choices.”
He touches the mark on my cheek. “You need to tell me who did this to you.”
“It doesn’t matter.” I shake my head. “They were there for my mother and I got in the way.”
“Like hell it doesn’t matter. Never again will someone put their hands on you. “Never,” he grinds the angry words out through gritted teeth.
I wish I could believe him, but this isn’t the first time and I’m sure it won’t be the last time I get caught in the crossfire, trying to defend my mother.
“I want you to stay with me.”
A disbelieving chuckle escapes my lips. “What?” I ask, wondering if I hear him correctly. He can’t possibly be serious. We’ve only known each other for a few months and while sometimes I feel I know him well, the truth is I don’t. There is so much about Shane Davis I don’t know.
“You heard me.” His voice is unmistakably and quite serious.
“I can’t stay with you,” I argue. “I’m going to stay here for a few days until things settle down.” I glance around Jenna’s apartment, knowing the only deterrent would be the revolving door of overnight guests. I consider Shane’s offer, knowing it would be quieter there, but it’s small, appearing to only have a single bedroom.Besides, the mere thought of packing my bags and moving again, leaving my mother alone to fend for herself, doesn’t sit well. I don’t know why I care so much after having threatened for years that I was leaving. My mother and I both knew it was an empty threat.
I remember wanting to stay in one place for a whole school year. I remember always being the new kid in school. I didn’t care if rodents were my roommates and the place was run down and disgusting. Four walls for an extended period of time were better than nothing. Each time Maxine showed up at my door, I cried because I didn’t want to leave. The young social worker couldn’t hide the sadness behind her smile each time I had to say goodbye to my mother. The tears I shed became few and far between when I was finally old enough to realize being removed from my home was for my own good. Sometimes little girls shouldn’t be taken away from their mothers; sometimes, they should.
>
“But I can’t protect you if you’re not near me. And judging by the evidence on your face, it’s not safe for you to stay with your mother.” I don’t miss the venom that spews when he says the last word.
Deep down I know he’s right. I’m a twenty-six-year-old taking care of my forty-three-year-old-mother who needs to live with the choices she’s made, but a part of me feels responsible and even a bit guilty. She is my mother after all. Isn’t that what unconditional love does? Doesn’t unconditional love stick by even when it shouldn’t? Doesn’t unconditional love continue love despite everything else?
Just as my lips move to say “no,” he interjects. “At least for a few days. Maybe more.” He grins at me. “I’m a little lonely at my place. I miss you when you’re not with me.”
“But I—”
“No, buts. I won’t take no for an answer.” Shane shakes his head adamantly, his lips tight. “Not about this.”
He’s absolutely serious and I find myself smiling at the idea of surrendering control for a little bit.
I open my mouth again to speak, but he quickly presses his long finger against my lips to silence me, being careful to avoid the swollen area. “There are two rooms. You don’t have to sleep in my room…unless you want to.”
I reach up and wrap my small hand around his wrist, my fingertips barely touching each other, and pull his hand away from my mouth. Instinctively, I lean forward and move to kiss him. It’s a gentle kiss, expressing my silent words of gratitude. A kiss that conveys the promising words I cannot say.
“You are very important to me.”
My eyes sparkle with delight at his simple words.
“I really like you,” he mumbles against my flat lips.
“I really like you, too.” I grin back because I find his words endearing. They remind me of the first boy I ever liked in the third grade. I wrote him a note, telling him that I thought he was cute. His response was harsh and brutal. It didn’t really matter. Maxine showed up at my door a week later, took me away and I never saw him again. I don’t really remember what he looked like, but his words will always remain.