by Katy Kaylee
I flopped naked onto the bed and counted my options. I had thousands, if I wanted to be truthful, but only one that held any appeal whatsoever. I knew what I had to do. I pulled on my sweats and went back to the computer. I gave myself another few minutes to reconsider and then I unblocked Christina’s name. She could also see me then.
The little green dot next to her name was lit. She was online! Fury washed over me. She hadn’t wasted any time getting back into the swing of things. She had simply disappeared from my life and not bothered to tell me why or if she ever wanted to see me again. It made me feel like a fool and every negative thing I could think of to say ran through my head.
Finally, I couldn’t stand it any longer.
Well, you didn’t waste any time.
It’s not what you think.
Oh, really? What else could it be?
Silence. Then finally a response.
Don’t you think it’s just a little arrogant for you to assume I’m on here to find someone to date? Is it possible I just want to talk?
Why can’t you talk to me? Seems like it work much better than talking to strangers.
I wish that were true.
What does that mean?
It means you’re not always the easiest person to talk to, no matter what you think. You tend to apply your values on other people.
You’re crossing a line.
Okay, forget it. Nathan, I miss you.
Then she was gone. Her little green light went away and she took with her a huge part of my life and future. How could someone like me, who knew better, get caught in this snare again? Maybe she was right. Maybe I didn’t listen but heard what I wanted to hear.
12
Christina
Mother of God, how did I get myself into this mess? Every time I took a step forward in what I thought was the right direction, something reached out and put icy hands around my neck to jerk me back. Over and over it happened.
I loved Nathan and somewhere deep inside I still cared for Macon. Macon could never come back into my life because he could never change who he was. I wasn’t even sure we could be friends. It would just be too hard. He wanted a sexless mother and used me to fill a job description of his own making. At the same time, I thought I was there for a different job. It hadn’t been fair to me for him not to let me know. I’d tried to verbalize my disappointments but they’d fallen on deaf ears. Macon never verbalized anything but what he wanted from others. He was very, very good at that.
Now, then there was Nathan. Nathan with the magic tongue and hands. Nathan with an intelligence that made me reach higher, want more. Nathan who was settled in his life, had a home, was a professional and understood the values of family. What had I done to Nathan? Everything and nothing. I carried his child. His seed was growing in my belly and it was the answer to his every prayer. He wanted family—more family than just Macon. Macon the disappointment. I knew Nathan and I could grow a wonderful human being. I just felt that as sure as anything. I could work or be a professional mother. In fact, the latter was what I preferred. I knew Nathan could take care of our financial needs so it was the love, the togetherness that he missed and wanted again. Would that be so bad?
It was killing me not to tell him about the baby, but there was no way I’d allow myself to be an object of pity. If he came back to me it would have to be out of love and need for me—not the baby. That would be hard to determine, but right now it looked like he didn’t need me at all. I’d watched night after night since I’d stopped going over. He’d been online and the little green light next to his name was always lit. I became his stalker, making notes about his timetable. It wasn’t fair, but it was all I had of him. I wondered about the women he met. Would he find a replacement for me? Would he take her to his bed and use his special techniques on her? Would she respond as I had? Would she be forty or twenty-one?
Just what was it about me that had appealed to him? What about me appealed to anyone? He would be horrified if he knew that while I’d been online, I’d been carrying his baby. I had no desire to date anyone—I couldn’t be further from it. But he’d never believe me if I told him that. He would think the worst, and he had the right to.
When I started to think about the rest of my life and how I’d raise a baby, alone, I began to freak out a little. I couldn’t take a baby to work with me, but god knew there was no way I could afford a sitter. I was barely making ends meet as it was. Wasn’t it the father’s role to pitch in? To share the work as well as the rewards? I wasn’t giving Nathan a chance to even offer. I was afraid of his controlling nature. He was smarter and certainly in a better financial position than I was. He was a doctor, for god’s sake. He could show cause in a courtroom why he would make the better single parent. I would be at his mercy. When I started to think about it, look how he’d raised Macon. Did I want to mother another Macon?
The weight of my worries was staggering. I felt like I wanted to start drinking, or smoking, or something. I needed some kind of stress relief but I knew anything I did, the baby would be doing it, too. That made it out of the question.
I knew from my own psychology training that there were resources out there for women in my position. Social services were a big part of what attracted me to the psychology to begin with. I wanted to help the whole person. Now I was that whole person who needed help.
I knew part of the formula was to develop a schedule and stick to it. This was easier said than done while Nathan had been in my life. His work schedule dictated what I would be doing each and every day. Maybe that’s why I’d felt a little out of control. It made sense that my schedule going forward should involve the process of raising a baby. First, I had to get through the pregnancy, which wasn’t as easy as I’d anticipated.
I was beginning to feel queasy in the morning, and sometimes at inconvenient times throughout the day. More than once I’d had to ask the Uber driver to pull over. And I knew it was only the beginning.
I’d been all over the bed and the blankets had finally given up trying to stay with me and lay on the floor in defeat. I was in that quasi sleep where I couldn’t wake up entirely, and yet the arms of restful sleep denied me. My cell starting ringing and I groaned as I dug for it among the folds of the remaining sheet.
“Hello?”
“Christina, it’s me, Macon.”
“Macon, it’s three in the morning. Shut off the game and go to sleep. Wherever you are.”
“No, that’s not it. I need help, Christina. I can’t call my dad. Please, for the sake of when things were good, would you help me?”
“You don’t sound right. Are you drunk or high?”
“Please, don’t know how long I can hang on. You remember Rocky Park?”
“Sure.”
“Come right now. Grab an Uber. I’m by the statue with the water fountain. Hurry.”
“Macon, you’re drunk, aren’t you?” There was no response and I realized he’d hung up. I dropped the phone on the bed and rolled over, preparing to try and sleep. I wasn’t going to run all over hell looking for a drunk guy on a bicycle. He could take care of himself for a change.
Something kept nagging at me, though. There’d been something very odd in his tone. I’d heard him drunk many times, and the same went for when he was high. His voice had been different this time. If he needed help, why didn’t he call for an Uber himself? Why did I have to go?
I knew why. It was because that’s who I am—the one who rescues people who need help, whether they deserve it or not. I’m the one who forgives with her last breath. With a disgusted at myself sigh, I tossed back the covers and began yanking at my nightshirt. I pulled on what I’d worn the night before and slid into a pair of moccasins. I looked around for my bag and finally spotted it in the kitchen sink. That was my version of being pissed off at the world and having a strong physical reaction—I threw things in the sink. More than one plumber had been called in the past to counsel me into not doing that again.
“Damn!” I
’d reached into the pocket for my phone and it wasn’t there. I remembered it on the bed and retrieved it, but not until I stopped in the bathroom and had a good puke. I was beginning to rate them on a scale of 1-10.
I tapped the Uber app and I must have found someone who’d dropped off his last customer who’d closed a bar and happened to be in the area. He was out at the end of the alley ten minutes later. I gave him directions and when we arrived, I asked him to wait for me. “Have to go rescue a friend,” I mentioned and his face was reasonably doubtful, given that we were at a park at almost four in the morning.
“Macon?” I called out, but there was no response. I knew where the fountain was and headed for it on foot. It was lit at night and in the shadows, I could see something on the pavement next to it. I hurried as fast as my tired feet and urpy stomach would permit, only to recognize Macon and his bike.
“Macon?” Just about then, two tall, skinny guys in jeans and denim jackets burst out from under a large, snow-covered bush and took off. I didn’t care about them. What I did care about was the bleeding man lying in the snow at my feet. I knelt down. “Macon?”
I pulled off my glove and felt for a pulse, but I’d never been exactly sure what I was supposed to feel, but he looked bad. I pulled back his jacket where the blood was running from and saw a gash in his shirt. “Oh, my god, Macon, what happened?”
He didn’t answer. Fumbling in my pocket, I dialed 9-1-1 and eventually convinced the operator that it wasn’t a prank call and that I had a stabbing victim with me. She agreed to send an ambulance.
Macon wasn’t moving, not even his chest. I put my ear down to his mouth but couldn’t hear a sound. He was as silent as the snow that was now sticking to his well-remembered face. I knew he was dead. He had to be cold if the snow was sticking to him. I began to cry and tried pumping on his chest the way I’d seen it in the movies. I argued with god that Macon needed another chance, to be merciful this once and I’d personally see to it that Macon would never screw up again. I shouted at Macon, calling him every name in the book, but he’d already blended in with the snowy pavement, as still as the statue that stood in the center of the fountain. Macon was dead.
The paramedics came then, pushing a gurney. One of them pulled me to my feet and told me to stay out of the way. But I’m blocking the snow for him, I wanted to say, but the ludicrousy of my logic was apparent to everyone on the scene. They didn’t even try chest compressions, but covered Macon with a black, plastic tarp and began taping off the area with yellow crime scene tape. In the distance I could hear sirens and then there were police milling about. One seemed to be in charge. He took me to one side and put a wool blanket over my shoulders. “Miss, your name?”
“I’m Christina McKay. That’s Macon Abernathy, my former roommate… and boyfriend,” I added as an afterthought. It seemed the respectful thing to do.
“Okay, Christina, do you know what happened?”
I shook my head. “Macon called me about three, saying he needed help and asked me to come help him here. I took an Uber and when I got here, I found him lying on the pavement, not moving. Two men were hiding under that huge bush and they ran when I knelt down.”
“Did you know the men?”
“No. No idea.”
“Can you give me a description.”
“I guess so. Macon? Macon, can you hear me?” I looked at the officer. “They say people can hear you long after you think they’re gone.” They wouldn’t let me any closer. “Macon, I did love you. If you can hear me, know that. I’m sorry about how everything worked out and that I didn’t see you for who you really were. I should have been paying closer attention. Macon, I’m sorry and I love you.” I started to cry then, and the officer put his arm over my shoulders. I heard him tell someone to dismiss my Uber and that they’d get me home. I felt like I wanted to collapse under the weight of all that was happening. How would I tell Nathan? It had to come from me. I wouldn’t have long. As soon as the police found Macon’s wallet, they’d send a car over to talk to Nathan. I couldn’t let that happen. It was too cold. “Officer?” He looked at me. “I need to tell his father. Please let me do it?”
“That’s not procedure, miss. We need to follow the rules.”
“Please? You don’t understand how close we are and all that’s at stake. I’ll call him from here, just please give me the time?”
The officer looked over his shoulder. “Tell you what. You can call him from here and when we take you back to the station to make out a report, we’ll go by and he can come if he wants to.”
I nodded and pulled the wool blanket higher onto my shoulders. Damn, but it was heavy. I walked away from the crime scene in the direction I’d come. I found a bench and swept the snow off with my glove. I was shivering, but it wasn’t entirely from the cold. I brought up Nathan’s phone in my contact list and sat for a few moments, trying to think how to break it gently. I wanted to cushion it, to make it not Macon’s fault even though anyone who knew him would know he was making a drug buy. I wanted…Piss on it. He’s got to know. I tapped the number.
It rang several times and went to voice mail. I tried again immediately and this time he picked up. “Christina? Are you okay? Is something wrong?”
Bless his heart, he was worried about me.
“Nathan, it’s Macon. He’s gone.”
“Gone where?”
“To heaven…” was all I could get out before sobs burst from me. From his end I heard nothing. The seconds were filled with disbelief, denial, hatred, love, regrets, fear… every human emotion conceivable and he had to take it alone, in the dark save for the light of a cell phone screen and the voice of the woman who had dumped him. “I’m on my way to get you,” I whispered and tapped the line dead. My tears had frozen on my cheeks. Photographers had arrived and a man I supposed was the coroner. I went up to the officer who had been kind to me. “Can we go get his father, Nathan?”
“Sure thing.” He patted me on the shoulder. “Guys, headed in to the station. Taking this young lady and picking up the victim’s father en route.”
A couple of hands of acknowledgment went into the air but we’d already headed to the squad car… and to Nathan.
The officer pulled into Nathan’s drive all the way to the end, as though he meant to block the exit if Nathan ran. I had no idea what that was about, and it didn’t matter, because Nathan wouldn’t be running anywhere.
“Let me go up, will you? He knows I’m coming. If you show up at the door, it makes it so cold and official.”
“Sure, I get it.” The officer nodded and reached over me to pop open the door. “Try not to take too long. I know this is a shitty thing, but I go off duty in a couple of hours and I’d sort of like to see you through this. Anyway, the victim will be taken to the coroner’s office and will need an official ID.”
I shook my head. “I was right there with him. I told you who he was. He has identification on him.”
“It’s procedure, Miss. We always ask for the next of kin.”
“Please, don’t make them do it. It’s his only son. His wife died, cancer, you know.”
“So how are you related to the family?”
I looked downward to see if my tummy was visible. “It’s complicated, but Macon and I lived together for a while. I got to know his dad pretty well.”
“Okay, go ahead, but remember what I said. As soon as he thinks he can make it, having come out with you and we’ll all go down to the station together.”
“Can’t he drive his own car?”
“I’ll let you be the judge of that. He may not be fit to drive. But you would know.”
I nodded and slowly climbed out of the backseat, pulling at my clothing to make myself as presentable as I could under the circumstances. After all, there was blood on my coat and my face was swollen from crying. I didn’t think it would matter.
I walked up to the door. I still had my key, or rather I knew where he hid the spare. I wanted to show respect and after all, I
wasn’t sure where Nathan and I stood. I knocked five gentle raps on his door. “Nathan, it’s me. May I come in?”
I heard an indistinguishable noise coming from his bedroom. I crept in, pushing the door wide and saw him on his bed, laying flat on his back and crying as he stared at the ceiling. I went to sit next to him on the mattress. “I’m here and I’m not going anywhere until you kick me out.”
“What… happened? Why did he call you and not me?”
“I don’t know, I swear I don’t. I was having trouble sleeping when he called my cell. He begged me to come help him and I told him he was drunk or high and I didn’t want anything to do with him. I feel horrible. If I gone as soon as he’d called, he might still be here.”
“Who?”
“Nathan, I wish to God I knew. I think he was buying drugs and something went terribly wrong. When I got there, there were two men hiding in the bushes nearby and they ran. I didn’t get a good look at them except to know that they were tall and thin. They ran like young men. Listen, Nathan, there’s a squad car out front. We have to go downtown and make a report. As hard as this is to tell you, they need you to identify him.”
“What? No! Can’t you do it? Didn’t you already see him and tell them who he is?”
“Yes, I did. But they need next of kin.”
“Of course. I knew that. I’ve talked to hundred people through this very same place and never once dreamed it would happen to me. Will you come with me?”
“Of course. I need to give them a statement, too, but even if I didn’t, I’d be by your side.”
“Thank you. Let me go in the bathroom a second and I’ll be out. Will you wait for me by the door?”
I nodded and watched him as he got to his feet, wavered for a few moments and then went into the bathroom. He was in there for long seconds before he even flipped the light on. My heart was aching, not only for Nathan, but for Macon. He really had so much potential and all I had ever done was nagging him. I had a thousand things to be sorry for, but Macon would never hear my apologies. I couldn’t imagine what Nathan must be going through.