by Meka James
His pleading look held expectations of an answer. When I had none to give, he walked back to the table to retrieve his abandoned cup. He dumped the remaining contents in the sink, rinsed it out, and sat it on the counter. Malcolm started to say something but stopped himself. Instead, he walked past me to where his wallet and keys sat on the counter.
“I love you. And I hope you feel better.”
He walked away. I fought back the urge that wanted me to call out for him to stop. I didn’t know what I expected, maybe for him to protest or something. He didn’t. I asked him to go, and he left. I’d never felt lonelier than when I heard my front door close.
Chapter 28
Malcolm
It took all of my willpower to not stay and talk some sense into Calida, but the last thing she needed was for me to ignore what she wanted, so I left. I’d actually thought her breakdown last night would be the turning point. I knew her secret, so I thought she’d finally stop pushing me away. I’d been wrong. The first thing I wanted to do this morning was take her in my arms and hold her. I’d already spent the night resisting my instinct to climb in bed with her to do that each time she cried in her sleep. I knew the last thing she needed was to wake up with me in bed with her, no matter how innocent the reason.
The clock on my dash read 11:30. I needed a shower. If I was lucky, I could grab a few hours of sleep before my three o’clock conference call. Sleeping in that chair in her room had to be the most uncomfortable night I’d had in a long time.
As I rounded the corner to my house, I saw my parent’s car at the same time my phone started ringing.
“Shit!” I forgot I was supposed to have lunch with them before they went back to Charlotte. So much for sleep.
Mom hung up the phone as I pulled into the driveway. “Sorry, guys, give me fifteen minutes to shower and we can go,” I stated when I climbed out of my truck.
“Oh, son, you look terrible,” Mom said as she walked over to hug me.
“Yeah, late night. Come on in. I have furniture this time.”
“Everything all right?” Dad asked as they followed me into the house.
I tossed my keys on the counter, nodding in response. “Yeah. Make yourselves at home.”
I bounded up the stairs, closed my bedroom door, and headed to the shower. The warm water felt good on my tense body. That same sickening feeling that came over me last night remained a heavy stone in the pit of my stomach. Those words replayed in my head, and the anger that I’d repressed last night barreled back. I let out a muffled yell as my fist pounded the shower tiles. Two more punches followed in rapid succession. I flexed my fingers, shaking out the pain that now radiated through my hand. My knuckles bled. The wound stung when I put it under the warm water. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be too noticeable to my parents.
I knew I was in for in interrogation of sorts, it was why Mom had texted me asking that the three of us meet for lunch. She wanted to figure out whatever was going on from dinner on Saturday. I’m sure Macy had filled their heads with all sorts of crap.
I was tired, more than just physically. Dealing with Calida was more emotionally draining than I ever imagined. I’d thought I knew what I was getting into, but now I had to reluctantly admit I’d been sorely ill prepared. I loved her. That fact hadn’t and wouldn’t change. I wasn’t the enemy, but that’s exactly how she viewed me.
Logically, I understood her reservations, and tried to the best of my ability to proceed with that in mind, yet she remained a cinder block wall that I beat my head against. If getting through to her was an uphill battle before, it was about to become like climbing Mount Everest.
I stepped out of the shower and wrapped the towel around my waist. Rummaging under the sink cabinet, I located a box of assorted band aids. I applied the knuckle bandage, then dried off, and hurried to get dressed.
Downstairs, I found my parents relaxing on my couch. “Sorry for keeping you waiting. Where would you guys like to go?”
Mom sat up, patting the space next to her. “I think we should order in, that way we can talk freely.”
Dad had already whipped out his phone, presumably to look up restaurants. Being the dutiful son, I knew it was better not to protest. Plus I wasn’t in the mood to even attempt to argue, so I sat.
“What are we talking about that requires privacy?” I kept my hand down beside my leg and out of view.
Dad cut his eyes over at me with a smirk on his face. He knew I was playing dumb. The look I got from Mom told me she knew the same thing. It was worth a try.
“What’s the deal? Why was your sister all riled up?”
“Because that’s her natural state.”
Dad laughed. “He has a point. Your daughter is very high strung sometimes.”
“My daughter? You know she takes after you more than me.”
“Right. Sandwiches okay with everyone?” Dad asked, quick to change the subject.
We looked over the online menu, and then gave dad our orders.
Mom turned her attention back to me. “So?”
I rubbed my neck, trying in vain to get some of the tension out. I’d always been able to talk to my parents about things, even as an adult. Hell, they were the first ones I went to when I wanted to get advice on Calida in general. She’d been a part of this family for many years. We all had her wellbeing in mind. At the same time, I still felt like I was betraying her by telling what she’d been so desperately trying to hide from everyone.
Getting up, I walked into the kitchen. “You guys want something to drink?”
“Sweet tea for me, lemonade for your mom, if you have it.”
Dad got up to follow me into the kitchen. I fixed their drinks before grabbing a coke for myself. He looked down at my hand and back up at me. I shook my head and shoved it in my pocket.
Mom came over to join us. “The place is looking great.”
“Thanks. Calida’s been working on it.”
“How are things going with you two?”
I took a drink from the can. “I’m pretty sure we’re over. Macy will love giving me a big ‘I told you so.’”
“Son, you knew it wasn’t going to be an easy relationship. You can’t just cut and run because things might be hard,” Dad said.
“Jesus! Why does everyone fucking assume I’m the one in the wrong?” I’d never snapped at my parents like that, but it pissed me off that they, and Macy, wanted to put all the issues on me. The look I received from my father had me apologizing in an instant.
“Malcolm, I’m sure that’s not what your dad meant. But, at the same time, you have to admit you don’t have a great track record with relationships.”
“Yeah, well this is different. I was never in love with those other women. They were just...I wasn’t in love with them.”
“All right, fair enough,” Dad conceded.
I took another drink, knowing I needed to bite the bullet and tell them. At least some of it. Maybe they could help me figure out if I should keep trying, or just step back into the friend zone. “She’s having panic attacks.”
“Well, that’s not all that uncommon considering what she went through. This is just an educated guess, but I would say Calida most likely has an acute case of PTSD.”
Shit! I really missed, rather ignored, all the things that should have been blatantly obvious. I pressed my fingers to my temple and massaged the throbbing ache. At the same time, Dad never brought this possibility up before when we’d talked. He’d probably been under the same impression I’d been; that she was still recovering, but doing okay since she was in therapy.
I lowered my head as the vivid recollection came back to me. I’d never been so scared or lost as I was watching her fall apart because of something I’d said. It was a surreal moment and one I’d unfortunately repeated a week later.
“I triggered two of them.” I shamefully admitted. “At least that I know of, because they happened in front of me.”
Mom walked around
the island, coming to stand beside me, and started rubbing my back. “Sweetie, I’m sure it wasn’t you directly.”
“Oh, no, it was. Both times we were having a disagreement about us. She said some things, I said some things...needless to say, it wasn’t pretty.”
“Is that why you had a late night? Dealing with one of her attacks?”
I took another sip of my drink as I contemplated how much to tell them. Guilt had already started to creep in from letting them know about the panic attacks she’d been hiding.
“Yeah, something like that.”
I leaned against the island. Mom covered my hand with hers. “Honey, what happened?”
Looking from her to dad, I let out a breath. “Stress relief.”
Chapter 29
Calida
Shawn chewed on his toy car, continuously trying to share it with me. We sat on the front steps watching the Wrecker go about his task. The loud pop of the tow truck crank made us both jump. With a low rumble, it came to life, slowly pulling one of Seth’s destroyed cars onto its bed. The jolt made the one sideview mirror that was barely hanging on fall to the ground.
I picked up my coffee mug, turning my head to keep it out of Shawn’s reach, before taking a sip. He started fussing, trying to get ahold of the mug.
“Sorry, buddy, the caffeine will stunt your growth.”
I handed him his juice filled sippy cup, which he eagerly took. He leaned back against me, happily kicking his feet as he drank the watered down OJ. I ran my fingers through his dark, silky hair, moving the longer strands out of his face.
“Think it’s time for a haircut.” My hand went to my own hair. My bangs had grown out, the sides now hung mid-ear, and I found myself annoyed at having to constantly smooth it back. It was in a shabby state these days. “For us both, I think.”
Dorian pulled into the driveway just as the Wrecker put the chains on the F150 to pull it.
She got out of her car, and watched as the guy completed his work. “What the hell happened?”
“All set, Ms. Jokobi. I jus’ need ya to sign here. How’ll ya be payin’ today?”
I stood, and readjusted Shawn in my arms before taking the small, dirty clipboard he held out to me. My signature was a mess since Shawn insisted on trying to grab the pen.
Reaching into my back pocket, I pulled out my credit card. “You take American Express?”
“Yep.” The guy processed my payment then handed me back the card. Whistling through his teeth, he looked back at the three vehicles. “I sure bet he’s sorry for whatever he done.”
“You did that?” Dorian asked. The look on her face was a strange combination of shock and awe.
“They’ll be crushed, right?” I asked.
“Yes ‘em, that’s what the order says. Should be done by tomorrow, ‘less ya want us to hold off.”
“No, tomorrow is perfect. Thank you.” I turned to Dorian. “You can park in the garage now.” I picked up my coffee cup, and headed into the house.
“Jesus, Calida, you could have just parked one outside, not take a bat to them. And you’re having them crushed? Do you know how much that Jag cost?”
“A hammer.”
“What?”
“I took a hammer to them.”
I put Shawn down in the living room, and took a seat on the floor, ready to play with him. He walked over to Dorian, demanding to be picked up. She sat on the sofa then pulled him into her lap. He twisted trying to shove his empty cup in her mouth. I crawled over, taking it from him, which sent him into a mini tantrum. That was Dorian’s cue to hand him back over to me; she never liked to deal with him when he cried.
“So, are you going to tell me what happened? I’m gone for two days and you’ve pulled the angry girlfriend stunt.”
I shrugged, keeping my focus on trying to pacify Shawn. I drove one of his toy cars around the carpet while he was laid out on the floor continuing to cry, but watching me at the same time. Eventually, he rolled to his stomach, and crawled over to me to take the car. He climbed into my lap and started driving the car around as I had.
“Calida?”
“What, Dorian?”
She looked at me, expecting some explanation, but I had none to give. “How was your trip?”
She frowned. I turned my attention back to Shawn, who was now pulling out all of his toys.
“Fine. Don’t tell me. As for my trip, it went as expected. I’m now a single woman again, and that bastard has to pay me alimony. He was pissed about that, since our incomes were fairly equal, but that’s what he gets for not keeping it in his pants. It’s only for twelve months, but still I’m happy about that.”
“Oh wow. So, congrats then?”
“Thanks. Anyway, I need to grab my bag then I’m heading into the office for a little while.” She got up, heading out of the room but stopped. “You’re at least okay, right?”
I was temporarily stunned by her question. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”
“You tell me.” She waited for a minute, I guess in hopes for that earlier explanation she’d wanted to finally come. When it didn’t, she shrugged and continued out to her car.
I spent the rest of the day doing my best to keep busy, trying my best to not think about Sunday, and ignoring Malcolm’s calls. Shawn and I were working on a puzzle when my phone rang for a third time. I was ready to turn it off but saw it was Macy. I considered sending her to voicemail too, but thought better of it.
“Hey. How was lunch?”
“Um, fine. How was your lunch?”
“Saltines, nothing grand there. So…”
“So, what?”
“Come on, Lee. We didn’t get to talk much at dinner. And Sunday, between my folks and Mitch, I didn’t get a chance to call. I figured you’d be busy yesterday, so I waited till today.”
Shawn crawled away, abandoning the puzzle in favor of Legos. “Macy, what are you talking about?”
“Lunch with my parents. They said they were meeting up with Malcolm before they headed back.”
Ah, now I understood why she started the conversation like that. “No. I, um, I didn’t have lunch with them.”
I didn’t even know about a lunch. Then again, how could I since I’d been avoiding talking to him.
“Huh...okay what’s the deal? Mitch has been telling me to stay out of it, but something is going on.”
I moved over and started helping Shawn stack the chunky plastic blocks, buying myself time. She was on Malcolm’s case at dinner, and he took it instead of simply telling her I flaked out on him.
“Lee?”
“Mace, it’s nothing. And before you ask, no, he didn’t do anything.”
“I didn’t imagine the tension between you two.”
“Macy—”
“No, Lee. Listen, I was a terrible friend to you...” She paused, and it sounded as if she was getting emotional on the other end. “While I would love to be able to officially call you sister, what I want more is for you to be happy. Really happy. But I don’t know...I am just getting this vibe that you aren’t.”
“Macy, you were never a terrible friend. We’ve been over that, water under the bridge and all as the saying goes.” I tried to keep my voice light, willing myself to not take that trip down memory lane. “And it’s not that I’m unhappy...it’s complicated. But we’re working through it.”
She sniffed. I was right; she was getting emotional. “I know, but I just...if he’s being a dick, kick him in his. Hard.” She laughed.
“He’s not. And please, please stop giving him a hard time over me. Please.”
“If not you, it’ll be something else.”
I shook my head. Macy may have been the youngest and only girl, but she tried to mother all of her brothers, keeping them in line on how she thought they should act.
“Then let it be something else. Anything else but me,” I pleaded with her.
“Fine, but if he hurts you—”
“He won’t.”
After we hung up, guilt covered me like a fifty pound leaded blanket. The last thing I wanted to happen was exactly what was taking place. Malcolm had become the villain in this situation when it was all my fault.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Monday night, I’d had Shawn sleep with me. I didn’t want to be alone. I’d stroked his dark curls and held onto his tiny hand, waiting for sleep to come. It didn’t. Instead, my mind had raced as it tried to figure out exactly what I’d told Malcolm. I’d laid in the dark, listening to the soft breathing of my little boy, wondering how many of my secrets had been revealed.
It had been all I could think about Tuesday night too. I couldn’t handle it. I’d spent that night with a bottle of wine, sitting in the hall in front of Shawn’s room until the voice was silenced. I could barely function Wednesday morning when he’d woken up. So, that night, I kept him with me, wanting a better outcome. It wasn’t working. The longer I laid there, the more the pressure in my head mounted. That feeling of being uncomfortable in my own skin increased tenfold. Every part of me tainted—inside and out. The fear of the unknown slithered around me.
I covered my mouth, muffling a strangled sob. Did Malcolm know Shawn was conceived through the most brutal attack Seth had ever unleashed on me? Pain squeezed my chest. I didn’t want anyone to know that. I didn’t want Shawn to know. And if others did, they would treat him differently.
I’d treated him differently in the beginning, looking at him and only seeing his father. I’d worked hard to forget for my son’s sake. I’d needed to forget, and for a while I’d been able to bury those memories. Push them out of my mind and move on. I loved him. Despite how he was conceived, I loved him, and no one needed to know his beginning. Especially my parents, who were in the house when it happened. That knowledge would kill them.
None of this was supposed to happen. How had I lost control? Did I ever really have control?
I rolled over, curled myself into a ball, and buried my face in a pillow. My body shook as uncontrollable sobs took over. My house of cards had collapsed.