by Heidi Lowe
“Hey, sis,” he said drowsily. In Kirsten’s embrace he looked like he was being suffocated.
I wanted to call him all the names under the sun, to scream and yell at him for doing this, but all I could do was rush to his bedside, kiss and cuddle him. The reprimands could wait.
“Thank God you’re awake. I thought you...” I burst into tears. “What the hell is wrong with you, you idiot!” Well I guess the reprimanding couldn’t wait.
He asked Kirsten to leave us alone, and I drew the curtain around us to give us some privacy.
“I’m sorry.” His voice was a drawl, but not unfamiliar. He sounded like this after his drinking binges.
“That’s not good enough.” I hit him on the chest, but not too hard. I didn’t want to kill him. “Did you ever stop to think how I would cope if anything happened to you?”
He closed his eyes. I thought he was falling asleep, but then teardrops rolled out. “I wasn’t thinking about anyone. I just wanted to make it stop.”
It didn’t have a name. It was everything — the memories, the lack of affection, the constant failure, the loneliness, all wrapped up into one big, insurmountable ball of hopelessness. It had been plaguing him his whole life. I’d always feared that his life would end in suicide; his therapist and some little prick in high school had said the same.
“Were you trying to kill yourself?”
He shook his head. “I don’t wanna die, sis, I just wanna feel whole.”
We wept in each other’s arms.
“This really isn’t necessary,” Dove said for the third time.
I dropped his suitcase at the foot of my bed, afraid that if I held onto it much longer my arm would be ripped from its socket. I hadn’t had time to tidy up, as I’d spent the last five days in Portland with him, tidying up his life; at the hospital, until he was released a couple of days into his stay, and then at his studio apartment. Just the two of us, like it was back in the days of abandonment. It hadn’t been that way in so long, and it felt nice to get back to that, albeit momentarily.
I’d taken a look at his place, his life, and decided that I couldn’t leave him there. He never should have moved so far away. “I was chasing a nice ass,” he’d said.
“You’re coming back to Seattle with me.” He’d looked into my eyes, saw that I wouldn’t back down. “You can stay with us until we find you somewhere close by.”
“Bitchney’s not gonna go for that.”
Well she had, without complaint.
Now he was here, and I’d surrendered my bedroom for the purpose.
“I don’t feel good about you sleeping on the couch,” he said. He still looked so beaten down: hair scruffy, skin pale — paler than usual. He had a ghostly, just-stepped-out-of-the-grave essence to him.
“It’s just for a few days.” Sleeping on the couch was a small price to pay to know that he was safe.
“Thanks, sis.” He wrapped me in a hug, as firmly as he could manage. He held me longer than usual, as though I was giving him strength. “I’m gonna get better, I promise. I’m gonna complete the whole stint in the clinic.”
“You’d better,” I warned. The clinic being the Pastel Rehab Clinic, a fifteen-hundred dollar a week facility in Redmond. I’d booked him in for a month-long stay, which was all I could afford. I didn’t tell him how much it cost, or that I’d used up all my savings on it — money I’d been squirreling away to buy a car. He would only have felt guilty, demanded I get a refund, and we’d be back at square one. Because the help he needed I simply couldn’t give. Moral support, a shoulder to cry on, sure, but the addiction stuff, that was way above my pay grade.
“You hungry?” I said. “I’m thinking pizza. Big, oily, extra cheesy...” My stomach rumbled just thinking about it. I hadn’t eaten much in five days, but my appetite had returned.
He patted his stomach, smiled weakly. “I could murder a pizza.”
Britney joined us for dinner in the living room, in front of the television. She and Dove kept the insults to a minimum, while I ate in silence.
My phone buzzed on the coffee table. Naomi’s name flashed. I tutted. That wasn’t the first time I’d reacted that way to her calls and texts. She’d been making and sending them all week, and I’d ignored all of them. At the start of the whole debacle, once I knew Dove was gonna be okay, I messaged to let her know I would be taking the rest of the week off. It wasn’t a request. But ever since then she’d been hounding me.
“She won’t stop calling until you answer,” Dove said. “I should know, I’ve been her many times.”
I groaned. He was right, of course. And even if I didn’t confront her, Monday was just around the corner, and there would be no avoiding her then.
I dropped my half-eaten slice of Hawaiian pizza into the box, wiped my hands on a napkin, grabbed my keys.
“Guess I can’t put this off any longer.” As I was leaving, I pointed a warning finger at Brit and Dove. “Don’t even think about sleeping together again while I’m gone.”
“Yuck!” they said in unison. Well that was one problem I didn’t have to worry about.
Some part of me despised her. Perhaps irrationally, but justifiably. Either way, this was the part I held on to the whole ride over to her condo. And in the elevator on the way up to her floor. And along the corridor leading to her door. But it disappeared the second I saw her. She was standing in the doorway, waiting for me, more beautiful than she’d ever been.
“Hi,” she said. She didn’t kiss me, though her eyes drifted across my lips the way they did whenever she was about to. She must have sensed that something was wrong. If your girlfriend ignores your calls and texts for five days straight, that’s proof enough that all isn’t well.
I swallowed, tasted bile in my throat. If I didn’t throw up now it would be a small miracle.
“Hi.”
“How’s your brother?”
“Okay. He’s staying with me at the moment.” I followed her into the living room, my steps languid, plodding.
She took my hand, and we sat down on the couch. “Is there enough space?”
I reclaimed my hand, tried to ignore the perplexed stare she aimed at me. “We’ll manage.”
We sat in awkward silence for a while. She opened her mouth to speak a couple of times but closed it again. She was waiting for me to say something. As for me, well I didn’t want to breathe a word, knowing that the only ones I had left would destroy us. I wanted to delay them for as long as I could.
“You can stay here for as long as you like,” she said finally.
“No I can’t.”
She let out a loud breath. “Why can’t you? You’ve done it before.”
I wanted to change the subject, to get away from the whys.
“Do I still have a job on Monday?”
She frowned. “Of course you do. Why would you even ask?”
I didn’t reply. At least the unexpected absence hadn’t negatively affected my job record.
More silence. She got up, opened a window. Then said in an upbeat voice, “I have some news. There’s an executive manager position opening in the Food and Drinks department in the Ankh Building. I’m going up for it. Do you know what that means?” She turned back to look at me.
I shook my head.
She smiled. “It means a promotion. If I get it, it means I won’t be your boss anymore.”
Oh what a nasty, vile piece of crap irony was!
I felt my heart tearing apart. How close I’d been to having it all. If she went up for the job, that would mean we could be together. How cruel could the world be? Hadn’t I suffered enough?
I wept like a baby.
“Honey, what’s wrong?” She rushed back to the couch, took both my hands in hers. “It’s a good thing. It means—”
“I can’t do this anymore.” And there it was.
“Do what?” She still held tightly to my hands.
“Us...”
“W—what? I don’t understand.”
I yanked my hands out of her grasp. It was time to toughen up, because if I didn’t, I would never be able to do this. It was time to harden my heart.
“I’m done! That clear enough for you? It’s over.”
First she stared at me, confused, mouth open a little. Then that confusion turned to anger. Now she scowled, eyes narrowed.
I got up, continued with my tirade. “While I was frolicking around with you, my brother needed me, and I ignored his calls. He nearly died.”
She got up too. “And that’s somehow your fault? Or mine?”
“Yes!” I screamed. “This—this disgusting, debauched lifestyle, I never should have taken part in it. I’ve been living in sin with you, and that’s why He almost took my brother from me.”
Her mouth and eyes were agape. “You’re serious, aren’t you? You actually think you were punished for being with me?” The idea sounded so absurd to her, you could see it in her face.
“The bible makes it very clear—”
“It’s bullshit!” Now it was her turn to scream. This was the angriest I’d ever seen her. The vein in her forehead threatened to pop out. “Your brother is an addict, and he was one long before you met me. Before you started fucking me! God, the Easter Bunny or the fucking Tooth Fairy didn’t have a thing to do with that.”
I shot her a look of pure reprehension. I wiped the tears from my face. “You can continue living your sinful, depraved lifestyle, but you’re not taking me down with you.”
As I went to leave, she grabbed my arm.
“You don’t get to do this.” Her tears gushed forth like a waterfall. “You pursue me for months, get under my skin, make me fall in love with you, and now this? I risked my career for you.”
I thought I was home free. But the second she said those words, I lost it again. This was the first time she told me she loved me.
“Please let me go,” I wailed. “I made a deal with God. I promised...”
That pure, unfiltered pain in her eyes would haunt me forever, I just knew it. A part of me wanted her to refuse, so I could say, “Well, God, I tried to leave but she wouldn’t let me.” A part of me knew that if she appealed long enough I would give in — to my heart, to my love for her.
But she let go. Turned her back to me. Her shoulders shook as she cried.
I ran as fast as I could, but there was no outrunning love. Or heartbreak.
TWENTY
My intention wasn’t to arrive late and make a scene. I’d made a last minute decision to go to church that Sunday, reasoning that turning up late was better than not turning up at all.
It was in full swing when I walked in. I tried to close the door quietly, but the damned thing creaked, alerting everyone to my presence. Pastor Hugh smiled when he saw me, but didn’t stop his sermon. I mouthed “sorry”, which he waved away jovially.
A surprised Colin watched me from our usual spot, as I crept over, slid past a couple of old timers, and sat beside him.
“Welcome back,” he whispered, looking ahead.
“Long overdue,” I whispered back.
I focused my attention on Pastor Hugh through the remainder of his sermon, and once the singing began I joined in. Colin shared his hymn book with me so I didn’t get the words wrong.
Once the service was over, Pastor Hugh made a beeline straight for me, arms outstretched, huge smile.
“I’m so glad to see you back here, Dakota,” he said, embracing me. He smelled of sandalwood. “For good this time, I hope.”
I offered him a nervous smile. “I hope so, too.”
“Colin told me you lost your way for a little while there. Does this mean you’ve found it again?”
Colin gave me an apologetic shrug.
“I’m finding it. It’s a process.” A grueling one that had seen me kiss goodbye to the love of my life. My stomach still felt queasy thinking about how we’d left things, how I’d ended it. To think I’d been worried that she would be the one to abandon me...
“These things take time. The most important thing is that you’ve taken the first steps in getting your life back on track.”
He spoke to us briefly, then floated away to his other parishioners.
I turned to Colin. “D’you wanna grab coffee?”
There was a little cafe a few minutes’ walk from the church, a place Colin and I often patronized after service. As far as I knew they were the only place in town that served tiramisu lattes, a delicacy I’d come to adore.
We found a spot by the window.
“My parents miss you,” he said, pouring a miniature milk pot into his coffee then stirring it with a wooden stick. “I don’t think they’re interested in having dinner with me if you’re not there.”
I laughed. That sounded just like them. “I miss them, too,” I said, and meant it. “How are the birds? How’s Vlad?” Vlad was the nickname I’d given to Chips, the cockatiel with the Russian accent.
“They got another one.” He rolled his eyes. “Who needs that many birds?”
I had to admit, a part of me missed this — the simplicity in the ordinary, the normal. His parents were insane, there was no denying that, but their insanity represented normality for me. I’d been hearing all about their antics for years, and I’d grown accustomed to, even fond of, them.
“Leave them alone,” I said with a laugh. “They like the full house.”
He smiled, conceded. “How’s everything with you? Gotta say, I didn’t think I’d see you back at church.”
I stared at my cup of frothy tiramisu latte for a moment, considered my response. “Yeah, I haven’t been myself these last few months. But I think all of that’s behind me now.”
“Does that mean...” He let the question hang until I met his gaze. “You want to try again?”
I like you. I care about you. But I don’t love you, and probably never will. Successful unions had been built on far less. He was still my friend, still the guy who saved me all those years ago. It was a good place to start.
I nodded. “If you’ll still have me.”
He smiled, a genuine smile with teeth, reached his hand across the table, placed it over mine. “Fresh start.”
How fresh a start could it be when my heart belonged to someone else?
I woke the following morning to an overcast sky outside my window, and light rain pitter-pattering against the glass. Weather to match my mood. Could it be that my anxiety and dread had impacted the Earth so much that the weather had changed to reflect it?
After two nights in a row of sleeping on the couch, it had lost its appeal. I was glad to be getting my bed back later that day, once I’d dropped Dove off at the clinic.
But first I had to get through work, and my first day seeing Naomi since our breakup.
“I feel sick,” I said to Brit as I plodded into the kitchen that morning, still in my pajamas. “I don’t wanna go in.”
“You’ve taken off a week already, so you kinda have to.”
I hadn’t told her about the epic fight Naomi and I had, just that it was over. Despite our reconciliation, I didn’t feel comfortable talking to her about Naomi. It was a sore subject for both of us. She’d forgiven me for my betrayal, and she’d moved on, but the whole episode still hung in the air, like a bad smell.
She made us coffees.
“So Colin and I are back together...”
She blinked big and dramatically. “Wow, you work fast.”
“It was the right thing to do.”
She sipped her coffee. “For who?”
“Everyone. I had my fun, and now I’m ready to get my life back on track.”
If her eyes were anything to go by, she didn’t believe a word of it. I didn’t blame her — I hardly believed it myself.
Finally, “Okay, if you say so.”
A promise was a promise. Dove was alive because of the deal I’d made in the chapel, I genuinely believed that. I wanted to keep him that way. If that meant walking away from a life God hadn’t sanctioned, a lifesty
le he vehemently disagreed with, then that was the price I would pay. The contract was drawn up and signed; Naomi and I were history.
The thing about our interactions at work, around the rest of the team, was that they’d never witnessed her being nice — to me or anyone. Thus, when I arrived that morning, on time for the briefing, and sat down around the conference table, nothing had changed. Not on the outside, at least. Inside, however, my soul was crying. I couldn’t even look in her direction, tried to hum a tune in my head to drown out her voice.
Self-inflicted agony. I thought the whole room could hear my heart thumping against my chest, or see my body shuddering with nerves.
I risked a glance at her, and looked away hastily. Always so serene, so perfect, like nothing fazed her. I started to wonder if her tears that night were real, if losing me even mattered to her.
Why does it matter whether it matters? You made your choice, now live with it. She’s just your boss again. Her feelings are no longer your concern.
I stole another quick glance, but this time, for a split second, our eyes met. She looked away, but not before I melted. Not before the crows began attacking me, clawing at my insides, violently tearing me apart. Reminding me that, no matter how many deals I made with God, nor how many years I put in with Colin, I would never get over this woman.
When the briefing was over, I decided, against my better judgement, to pay her a visit. I told myself and God that my purpose was to clear the air, but deep down I knew that was nonsense. I just wanted to be in her presence.
I waited half an hour before I went. She didn’t answer either of my knocks, so I let myself in.
She was scribbling something on a piece of paper and didn’t bother looking up at me. But she knew it was me.
“What do you want, Miss Adams?” Cold, business-like, her old self. How impersonal. I’d gone from being the woman she loved to Miss Adams again.
“I... I just wanted to make sure that we’re okay.” My voice was as small as I felt.
She stopped writing, put the pen down slowly, and glared at me. “Yeah, we’re just fine. Now get the hell out of my office and go do your job!”