Rage: A Love Story

by Julie Anne Peters

  Love. Knowing love. Loving and being loved.

  Reeve did love me. She still does. Where are you, baby?

  Nothing else comes to mind right away. But there’s got to be more. I flip the page and write: “Losses. What I lost:”

  Money

  My job at Bling’s

  Mom’s watch

  The hospice where I love to volunteer

  These are coming too fast.

  I page back to the Gains list. Love. It outweighs everything. Back to Losses.

  My car window. It’s covered with plastic until I can afford a new one.

  Martin’s trust. He moved, or locked up, the loaded potato.

  Novak.

  But it’s not really Reeve’s fault I lost Novak. Is it?

  I rip out the page. Look at what Reeve lost—her mother, her brother, her home. You still have me, baby.

  At the next session, I tell Mary-Dean I forgot to do the assignment. She says, “That’s okay. What I really wanted to know is where you would put self-respect.”

  “Self-respect?”

  “Would you say your relationship with Reeve gained you self-respect or lost you self-respect?”

  “Gained,” I answer automatically.

  “How?”

  Why? When? How? Reeve would be slugging Mary-Dean continuously.

  “I guess… I feel…”

  “Did you respect yourself before you met Reeve?”

  “Yeah. I mean, I think I’m a good person. My teacher Mrs. Goins said I was kind and generous.”

  “Of course you are, Johanna. You’re a wonderful person.”

  “So is Reeve.” She just didn’t have a choice.

  We always have a choice—about our actions.

  She didn’t have to hit me.

  I let her do it.

  It was wrong. I was wrong. We were …

  Mary-Dean asks, “Do you respect yourself more now than you did before?”

  This question makes me search my soul.

  And I don’t like the answer.

  We dash behind the waterfall, holding hands. The rocks are slippery. We balance for a moment, making sure everyone’s secure. I’m awed by the power, the majesty, the roar of water rushing off the cliff.

  Robbie sits on the shore. We’ve just been to his funeral. He removes his shoes and socks, stuffs the socks inside the shoes, and ties the laces together. Reeve says, “Don’t lose those, asstard.”

  Robbie says, “The retardo is a high school graduate.”

  Reeve turns to me. “Scary, but true.”

  Novak takes my arm. “Remember when we used to come up here?” She has to yell to be heard over the falls.

  “No!” I yell back. I say to Reeve, “She never came here with me.”

  Novak leans around me. “We came here when Tessa lost her first baby.”

  “No, we didn’t.”

  Teetering on the rock, she goes, “Yes, we did. We made a little boat and put a pink Care Bear in it. A heart bear. We set it in the river, right here.” Novak indicates a spot in front of us where water is pooling between the rocks. It forms an eddy, then swirls off toward the falls. “Tessa said, ‘My sweet baby girl. Have a safe trip home. I’ll see you when you get there.’“

  Reeve stares at the box in her hands. Her mother’s ashes.

  Robbie is wearing his shabby graduation robe. He’s holding the other box.

  Mom’s an angel in heaven. She says, “You’re such a comfort to me.”

  Novak screams, “Oh my God, Robbie! You’re alive!” She hurdles rocks to get to him. He stumbles backward but catches her in his arms. Without warning, he kisses her.

  Novak looks stunned.

  Reeve says, “You’re just so damn irresistible.”

  That cracks us all up.

  “You really know how to pick ‘em,” Reeve says.

  “Yeah, I do,” I say.

  Reeve’s eyes fall to the ashes. She looks up at me. “Should I just dump them?”

  Robbie is climbing on the boulders behind Fallon Falls and Reeve hollers, “Get back down here! You have to do this with me!”

  Novak says, “He kissed me.”

  Reeve goes in my ear, “Tell her he has herpes.”

  I laugh. Reeve bumps my shoulder. I lose my footing and splash into the river. The current is strong and Novak jumps in and saves me while Reeve just stands there.

  Reeve opens the box and says, “How do you want to do it, Robbie?” The ashes are in a plastic bag inside the box. “You just want to pitch the bag?”

  Robbie lifts out his bag and hauls back his arm.

  Novak bounds back from the river, cries, “No! You have to scatter them. You can’t just throw the bag in the river. God.” She rolls her eyes at me. “That’s littering.”

  “You do it.” Reeve snatches the bag from Robbie and slams it into Novak’s chest.

  Novak arches her eyebrows at me.

  Do it, I shrug.

  She removes the twist tie from the bag and, reaching in, grabs a fistful of ash. It’s gray and sort of greasy looking. She holds the ashes out in front of her. She shouts at Reeve, “What was your mom’s name?”

  “Gladys,” Reeve says.

  Novak widens her eyes.

  “Not really.”

  “Consuela Meaty Loins,” Robbie says.

  We all look at him. He grins.

  Reeve tells Novak, “It’s Jaclyn.”

  Novak extends her arm over the water. “Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust. Go home to Jesus, Jaclyn.”

  Reeve mutters “Bye” under her breath.

  Novak opens her fist and the ashes fly back in our faces. We spit and swipe our eyes.

  Robbie snatches the other bag from Novak and raises it high in the air. The ashes stream out and spread over the rocks and water and river grass.

  They leave a film. It’s gross.

  I look over to Robbie, but he’s gone.

  Reeves gone.

  Novak.

  Mom.

  All gone.

  • • •

  It isn’t Joyland; it’s just a dream. I wake up crying, feeling inconsolable. I stumble to the kitchen and almost trip over it—again.

  Robbie’s case. I keep moving it from the front closet to the storage room to my bedroom. I don’t know why I haven’t opened it.

  It’s time. I thumb up the latches and flip the cover.

  There’s a threadbare baby blanket rolled up and paper-clipped. I pull the clip, find the edge, and unroll the blanket. Inside is … junk.

  A magpie feather, an avocado peel, a hunk of bubble wrap, two golf balls, a syringe, a rusty razor blade, string tied to string tied to string …

  Carefully, gently, leaving everything exactly the way he saved it, I reroll the blanket and shut the case lid.

  When I get home from work, there’s a box at my door. I know the handwriting and my heart leaps. The first item is a picture postcard. This fat, hairy guy in a Speedo at the beach, snarfing a hot dog. A voice bubble is drawn in: “Eat my wiener.”

  I crack up. Classic Novak.

  On the back, her note says: “Banana, I met someone. Her name’s Cate. She’s a lez and she’s into me. What’s her damage?”

  She met someone already?

  “Miss u, you crazy bitch. Come to CA. grlz, grlz, grlz. U’ll never go hungry here . U R 4 Evah my BFF. I wanted to give you this for grad, but I didn’t get it done in time .”

  It’s wrapped in tissue. I lift out the bundle and open it carefully. Oh my God. It’s a jacket, all different colors, soft as cashmere. I put it on and feel Novak next to my skin. A pang of loneliness stabs at my heart.

  Miss you, Novak.

  A quiet knock sounds on the open door. I turn and see Tessa.

  “Oh wow. She finished it.” Tessa walks in and runs her hand down the sleeve of the jacket. She steps behind me. “She picked the hardest thing to knit, this Meg Swansen Round-the-Bend. When she said she was going to modify the pattern to make it a hoodie jacket, I thought
she was insane.”

  I twist and our eyes meet. “I wanted to say—”

  “Johanna, I—”

  “Tell Martin I have your IOU money, with interest, and I’ll have your insurance money to you by the end of the month.”

  Tessa nods and smiles. “Thank you. May I?” She indicates the divan.

  I slip off the jacket and fold it tenderly, feel the love Novak put into it.

  “Johanna, I wanted to talk to you about your, um, revelation. Long before now. But I just didn’t know how. That’s not true. Well, it’s sort of true.” What’s Tessa talking about? She pats the place next to her and I go sit. She says, “When I got your letter, honestly, I was shocked. I’ve always considered myself open-minded; I’ve had gay friends. But when it’s your own sister? When it hits so close to home?” She looks at me and I see the lost look in her eyes.

  “It’s okay.”

  “No, it’s not. I’m ashamed of myself. I should’ve accepted it immediately and embraced it and been happy about you finding yourself and having the courage to come out.”

  “Yeah. You should’ve.”

  “You’ll laugh”—she shakes her head—”but I thought it was just a phase.”

  I’m not laughing.

  “I did write you back, but I didn’t know what to say. If I didn’t mention it, it’d seem like I was avoiding the subject. Which, I guess, I was. And I knew how important this was to you. I ripped up so many letters. I could never find the right words.”

  I know how that feels. “I’m sorry.”

  “What do you have to be sorry about? You should be mad as hell. Here I am, your sister, your only family, and I’d already deserted you once. I know you needed me. And before, with Mom. I’m sorry. I’m the one who’s sorry.” Her eyes pool. “I just want you to be happy, Johanna. It’s all I ever want for you.”

  I tell her, just so she knows, “It’s not a phase.”

  She lets out a short laugh and sniffles. “I got that.” She swipes her nose. “I love you no matter what. I want you to know I’ll always be here for you. From now on.”

  Finally, at last, we hug. We rock each other for the longest time and this huge sense of joyfulness infuses my whole entire being. I have my sister back.

  Tessa says, “I want to ask you something. You can say no.” She leans away from me so she can look me in the eyes. “I want to sell the house and move back to Minnesota. I want to finish my master’s in social work and get certified there. And I want to try to have a baby.”

  My heart soars. “Tessa, that’s great.”

  She drops her head. “I don’t know. Martin’s settled here now.”

  “He’ll do whatever you need to make you happy. You know that.”

  “You’d come with us.” Tessa looks at me. “I wouldn’t go without you. You’ll love Martin’s family; they’re insane. The university’s right there and you could go to college, live with us, or in the dorm. There’s a large gay and lesbian population in Minneapolis.”

  This tiny trickle of excitement burbles inside me.

  “Think about it.” Tessa lifts a hank of my hair over my shoulder. “We’ll make a fresh start.” She holds my eyes. “Johanna, can you ever forgive me?”

  I just hug her again. She hugs me right back. I feel this weight lift from my shoulders. Then Tessa says, “Why don’t you ever wear the watch?”

  I let her go fast and push to my feet. “I lost it,” I lie. “I’m sorry.” I head for the kitchen.

  “You lost it?”

  “It was loose,” I say over my shoulder. “It fell off.”

  Tessa sighs. “I should’ve taken it in to get it adjusted.”

  That stops me in my tracks. “It’s not your fault, okay? It’s mine. I let it happen. We’re both on these major guilt trips. We need to get off this stupid treadmill and move on.”

  Tessa stands. “You’re right. We do. But that’s not the only reason I came up here.” She approaches from behind and touches my hand. She turns it palm up and sets something in it. A folded piece of notepaper.

  “To be honest, Johanna, I’m against this. Every fiber of my being says I shouldn’t do it, I should keep you safe, but Mary-Dean insists this is something you need to do for yourself.”

  What could it be? I unfold the paper and see it’s an address.

  “She’s living there,” Tessa says. “At least, she was.”

  Chapter 36

  The sign in front of the building reads: SAMARITAN HOUSE. Is this a homeless shelter? Oh, Reeve. It looks nice, though, like an old converted Victorian, with three floors and balconies.

  The door has a double lock and security cameras. I ring the buzzer and a woman says, “May I help you?”

  I don’t see a microphone to speak into. “I’m looking for Reeve Hartt?”

  “What’s your name?”

  “Johanna Lynch,” I tell her.

  “And you are …?”

  What am I? “A … friend.”

  “Please wait.”

  I wait an eternity, standing there feeling like I’m being scanned with metal detectors. I check my watch. Ten to ten. Cheap watch from Target. I have to be at the cineplex by eleven.

  An older couple across the street are out pruning hedges. They remind me of Mr. and Mrs. Mockrie and my heart aches for that loss.

  The front door whooshes open.

  My stomach catches.

  Reeve flies out the door and throws herself into my arms. “She told me not to call you or see you ever again. She said if I loved you, I’d leave you alone.” Reeve crushes me so hard I can’t breathe.

  Or maybe I can’t breathe because she’s in my arms, stealing my breath away. Reeve kisses me and the world spins out of control.

  Behind us the door opens wider and this formidable woman steps onto the porch. She says, “Honey, are you okay?”

  Reeve goes, “Yeah. This is my girlfriend, Johanna.” Reeve smiles at me as she intertwines our fingers. The woman gives me a visual shakedown.

  Reeve says to her, “Would you sign me out?”

  She asks, “Where are you going?”

  Reeve looks at me.

  Fallon Falls, I think.

  “To the park,” Reeve says. “I’ll be back in an hour.”

  The woman folds her arms.

  “If I’m not, call the cops. God.” Reeve rolls her eyes at me.

  “One hour.” The woman steps back inside.

  Reeve pushes me down the steps. “Fucking warden.”

  “What is this place?” I glance up to see eyes watching us through the front security screen.

  Reeve hops on me piggyback, wrapping her legs around my waist. “A women’s shelter. Tessa got me in.” Reeve bites my ear and nuzzles into my neck.

  At the car, I let her down and go to unlock the door, but Reeve pulls my hand away. “I can’t,” she says. “I’m not allowed to get in anyone’s car. House rules.”

  I arch my eyebrows. “Since when do you play by the rules?”

  A grin sneaks across her face. “Really.” Then her eyes get serious.

  “It’s okay,” I say quickly. “How far’s the park?”

  “We can walk.” She loops both arms around my waist and my arm naturally crosses her shoulders. She smells like Ivory soap. Her hair’s been cut recently and I can actually feel meat on her bones. Her eyes are beautiful, of course. Blue mascara, three shades of eye shadow.

  “I’ve missed you so much,” she says.

  I rest my head on hers. “Me too.” All the nights I lay awake worrying, wondering about her.

  Behind the trees at the end of the block is a sculpture garden. Reeve leads me to a concrete hexagon, which is smeared with pigeon poop. We don’t sit on it. We stretch out on the cool grass, facing each other.

  “I’ve been seeing someone,” Reeve says.

  My heart explodes.

  She jabs my shoulder. “You didn’t say ‘what?’“

  I don’t want to know who either.

  She pinches
my arm playfully. “Not like that. A counselor. Or psychologist, I guess she is.”

  “You have? Me too.”

  Reeve frowns. “Why?”

  I can’t look at her without wanting to kiss and touch her, run my hand up her hip and under her shirt. But we need to have this conversation.

  I roll onto my back. “You know. Abandonment issues. Self-worth stuff, blah blah.” I gaze into the sky.

  Reeve’s eyes graze the side of my face, then she rolls over onto her back too. “Abuse. Repressed anger. My mother and brother getting murdered in front of me.”

  She makes it sound like a competition. You win, Reeve. Hands down.

  A puffy cloud floats in front of the sun and I shiver. “Are you okay?” Reeve asks.

  The word “yes” sticks in my throat. “Are you?” I twist my head and look at her.

  “Oh yeah. I’m fly.”

  Her pain is palpable.

  “I don’t miss her,” Reeve says. “She was sick and twisted. Her whole fucking life was using. I don’t even know if I ever loved her. That’s so wrong, not to love your own mother.”

  Reeve …

  “But damn. What did he do? All he ever wanted was to be left alone. Stupid asstard.” She balls her fists at her sides.

  I push up to an elbow and pull her into me.

  “I don’t cry,” she says in a hiccup.

  “I know.”

  She holds me hard. She kisses my neck, my jawbone, my face. She’s soft and sweet in my arms. She kisses my lips.

  God, help me.

  She stops and says, “Let’s get a place together. I have a job now, at Chili’s. Where are you working? I assume you are.”

  Yeah, and I need my job. “I’m still looking.”

  “You could work with me. Think of it, Johanna. Living together, being together all the time. We could make it; I know we could. We’d get married and have kids. Since they run in my family, maybe we’d have twins.” She grins. “Doublemint gum.”

  “I’m moving to Minnesota,” I say.

  At the sudden shift in mood, a chill fills the air.

  “When?” Reeve asks.

  “Soon.”

  She climbs off me.

  “Tessa and I are selling the house. She wants me to go to college in Minnesota and she’s going to have a baby. I want to be there for her. You know?”