by Marcy Blesy
“I don’t know, Matt. I’m kind of tired.”
“All the more reason to come. Your energy is depleted.”
“I don’t have rollerblades.”
“You don’t need them. We’ll swing by my place. My…sister…left a pair of skates here. I know it sounds lame, but we used to go skating when she…when she visited.”
“To see your grandparents?” I ask.
“Huh?”
“Your sister…she stays with you when she comes to town to visit your grandparents. Geesh, and I thought I was the spacey one. How are your grandparents?”
“Really well, actually. Neither one is in the hospital or nursing home at the moment. They’re together, at home. So, will you come with me?”
“I.…”
“Do you really have anything better to do on a Wednesday evening?”
“I was thinking of hitting the ladies’ night specials around town.”
“Ha! I’ll find you a ladies’ night special for dinner if you come to the park with me.” He raises his eyebrows in anticipation of my answer.
“What the hell,” I say. “Let me call Mom, though, and let her know I won’t be home for dinner.” Matt gets up to throw away our cups. My phone dings before I call Mom.
Ty: Rough day here. Can’t wait for this weekend. Made hotel reservations. Call me.
Me: Later.
The phone rings. I ignore it. Not today.
“Your Mom cool with you missing dinner?” asks Matt as we walk to his car.
“Yeah. She and Greg are going to go out for dinner.”
“Sounds like they’re getting more serious.”
“I think so. Mom and I haven’t talked about it or anything, but Greg’s been pretty thoughtful lately with the aftermath of Sarah’s accident.”
“That’s good.” We talk about neutral topics—school, the weather—on the way to Matt’s house. I insist on waiting in the car while he runs into his apartment to get his sister’s skates. I hope they fit.
Andersonville Park is beautiful this time of year. The spring flowers are all in full bloom, and there’s a fine scent of hyacinth. A man-made lake is surrounded by trails that today are full of walkers and runners. We’ll be the only rollerbladers, but I don’t mind. Matt’s right. The fresh air will help clear my mind.
“When was the last time you skated?” he asks, as we lace up our skates on a park bench overlooking the lake.
“I ice-skated last winter with…with Ty, but I haven’t rollerbladed or skated since I was a little girl, probably with my little sister.”
“Uh-huh,” says Matt. He doesn’t ask me about my sister, just like he’s never asked me about my dad. Not many people could understand my desire for privacy, or, even if they did, honor my wishes. Matt is bent over, pulling a rock out of his skate. He’s been working out more. I didn’t think it was possible for his arms to get any bigger, but I swear they are. His hair is shorter, too, which accentuates his strong jawline.
“Do I have a booger hanging out of my nose?” he asks.
“No, sorry. You…you look good. Sorry.”
“Uh, don’t apologize for that. I better look good. All those extra hours in the gym are paying off. I’m taking my Army ROTC basic elective course this semester so that I can be ready to join the reserves full-time next year.”
“What’s that mean?” I ask, getting an uncomfortable knot in my stomach.
“I’ll hopefully qualify for a scholarship to University of Illinois for the next three years. Then, I’ll owe the Army some years.”
“You’re leaving?” I trip over my skates, trying to stand up.
“Possibly. I might finish here and then transfer. I’m still trying to decide.”
“Oh.”
“Does that bother you, Mae?”
“No,” I say. “Well, maybe…a little.” He grazes my cheek with the back of his hand. “Come on. I’ll race you to the playground.” I push off on my skates to get a head start.
I make it to the playground first, but only because Matt stopped to help an old lady untangle her dog’s leash from a tree along the path’s sidewalk. The playground was a lot further away than it looked, and I am exhausted. Plus, the skates don’t fit nearly as well as Matt had promised. I sit down on a swing and untie the laces. Maybe if I take them off for a few minutes, I’ll feel better.
“Done already?” he asks, as he skates over the hopscotch court and next to the swings.
“Taking a break. You have to remember that I’m not nearly in as good shape as you.”
“I’d beg to differ,” he says. I feel my cheeks getting warm as I realize my short shorts look even shorter sitting on this swing. “Want an underdog?” he asks.
“An under what?”
“You are kidding me! You have never heard of an underdog?”
“No, is that some kind of superhero?” He laughs.
“No, I’ll show you. Hold on.” Before I realize what’s happening, Matt is pulling my swing back in the air and running underneath, sending me flying in the sky. It feels like I’m flying, too, since Matt is so tall as it is. I get all giggly and little girly. It’s been years since I’ve played, and today I am playing. “Another?”
“N…no, Matt!” Higher and higher the swing flies again. I hold on tight, tip back my head, close my eyes, and soar in the air. Every sense in my body is relaxed. I don’t want this moment to end, but I shouldn’t feel this happy. My best friend just died. Matt doesn’t need me in his life. He doesn’t need me messing with his karma or whatever I do that hurts people. “I have to go. Matt, I have to go now!” I drag my feet along the wood chips to stop the swing. Then I grab the skates, but they won’t go on.
“Hold tight there, Mae.” Matt takes the skates out of my hands and loosens them at the top. Then very gently, he takes my foot and slips the skate in place, tying them snugly around the ankles for more support. I feel like such an idiot. I never should have come here today. “You don’t need to rush off so fast. Weren’t you having a good time?” He looks like a puppy that stands guard at the window as his master leaves for the day.
“That’s just the problem, Matt. I can’t have a good time with you.”
“Because of Ty?” he asks. “I guess I get that, but you didn’t do anything wrong. We can still be friends, right?”
“No, I mean, it’s not because of Ty. Matt, it’s so complicated. I told you a long time ago that I was complicated.”
“And I thought I made it clear through my actions that I didn’t care.”
“Matt, look at me.” His beautiful smile is hidden. “You don’t want to be friends with me. Trust me. It’s for your own good.”
“Why don’t you let me decide what’s for my own good? I’m twenty-years-old.”
“I have to go.” Not waiting for a reply, I push the pain of my blisters to the back of my mind and skate toward the parking lot. Once again, we are quiet as Matt drives me back to the campus to retrieve my car. I open the car door to leave. “Thanks, Matt.”
“Mae, stop. Stop whatever the hell you’re doing. You’re not happy with Ty. I know it, but you have to figure that out yourself, I guess.”
“What do you mean?”
“It means it sucks waiting for you to figure out what’s best for you. It hurts too much. I think you might be worth the wait, though.”
“Stop waiting now. You’re wrong.” I shut the car door and walk back to my car, thankful that Matt cannot see the tears that stream down my cheeks.
Chapter 10:
The last few days have slipped by uneventfully. Who knew that taking a boring day for granted could be one of life’s great regrets? Preparing for my weekend to Chicago with Ty is the only agenda for this evening and catching up on my reading list from my children’s literature course. I can’t believe Bridge to Terabithia is on the list. Like reading about the death of Jesse’s best friend is really a good idea right now? Ugh. I scroll through my emails first, anything to put off school work.
There are plenty of condolence emails, even from people who went to Andersonville High that I haven’t talked to in years. They were all really nice. No one bugged me about why I left school and ran away. It never occurred to me that maybe some of them felt slighted, too, like Sarah had. I guess they weren’t all bad. No sense rehashing that part of my life. I freeze when I see the next email.
Dear Ms. Tatum,
We have not yet received your confirmation of acceptance into the College of Literature at the University of Michigan. The deadline for acceptance is quickly approaching, and we don’t want you to miss this opportunity. Please contact our office by May 4. Check the website if you have further questions. Thank you.
The thought of going back to Ann Arbor makes my stomach ache. It’s not the university’s fault that Sarah died, but from the accident to my fight with Ty, there is nothing positive in my memory bank from that visit. I have to stop pretending and be honest with myself. I don’t want to go to the University of Michigan. I’ll finish at Andersonville Community College and figure it out next year. However, my relationship with Ty is another matter. I have to figure out where I stand with him once and for all. I know he wants a savior, but do I have to spend the rest of my life saving him just because he was there for me once? It’s not like he’s been the best support for me in the last few months.
“Macy, the dryer buzzed. Anything I need to hang up for you?” says Mom.
“No, that’s okay. I’ll get it, Mom. Thanks.” I close my laptop.
“What’s the matter, honey?”
“Nothing,” I say.
“Come on. Let’s talk. You’ve had a lot on your plate lately. Other than the obvious, tell me what’s wrong.” She pats the seat next to her on the couch. I sit down.
“I’ve decided to stay at Andersonville and finish my associate degree.”
“That’s great. Of course, I’m happy that you’re staying home a little longer. Any time we can spend together is a bonus for me.” I nod my head.
“You sure I don’t interfere with your relationship with Greg?”
“Not at all. Is that what this is about? Are you upset about Greg?”
“No, Mom. Honestly, no, not at all. This is about…it’s about Ty.”
“Oh. Can I speak the truth?” she asks.
“Of course.”
“You seemed a little distant during the services. Usually tragedy has a way of bringing people closer.”
“Yeah, well, that hasn’t happened.”
“Are you sure you want to go to Chicago this weekend?”
“I have to, Mom. He’s planned the whole damn thing. I’d be a real jerk to not show up.”
“Don’t do anything you’ll regret, Macy.”
“Mom! I’m almost twenty years old.”
“I didn’t mean that! But, of course, that’s a good idea, too.” She laughs. “You’ll figure it out. You’ve got a good head on your shoulders.” She tucks my hair behind my ear.
“I love you, Mom.”
“I know. Me, too. Go finish your laundry and packing. Ty’s coming early, right?”
“Uh-huh.”
“When you’re done, let’s grab a sandwich at Panera.”
“Sure. Give me an hour.” The phone rings. Mom takes the call from Greg, I presume, by the high-pitched lilt in her voice. Oh, to be happy in love. Maybe this weekend with Ty will be like old times. Without hope, there is nothing.
The skyline of Chicago rises majestically as Ty and I near the city. One minute, there are houses and businesses with the occasional parcel of farm land, and the next, hundreds of skyscrapers appear on the horizon and grow taller and taller with each passing mile. I remember when I was a little girl and my parents took Laura and me into the city to visit the Sears Tower. It was still called that then, not the Willis Tower, as new generations will speak of it. Laura had cried all the way up the elevator to the observation deck, but not me. When the elevator doors opened, I nearly ran to the floor-to-ceiling windows and pressed my body up against the glass. I felt like I was flying. When you’re up there, you realize how small you are, how the world is much larger than you could ever imagine.
“You’ve been pretty quiet, Mae. Everything okay?” asks Ty.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.” I squeeze his leg. He’s wearing new jeans and a red v-neck t-shirt. His hair is shorter on the sides with a little longer bangs that feather to one side. If Ty had wanted to be a model, finding a job wouldn’t have been difficult. When he came to live with Mr. and Mrs. Barber they’d entered him in a couple of local beauty pageants. I’ve seen the crowns. Of course, it’s not something Ty told me about. Likely he was mortified any girl he dated would ever find out he’d been his mother’s dress-up doll. I thought it was cute when Mrs. Barber showed me his sash for Little Holiday Prince.
Ty assured me that my jean capris, white tank, and ¾ sleeve green cardigan were perfect for our day, though I had no idea how to dress because of the top secret plans. I know that sandals aren’t practical for walking around the city, but I opted for beauty over comfort again. Grandma would no doubt approve. “So, where are we headed?” I ask.
“To the hotel first. They said we could check in at 2:00.”
The lobby of the hotel is huge and modern. All the furniture is simple and plain, but, no doubt, quite expensive. The floor is white marble, and colored blown-glass light fixtures hang from the ceiling giving the only pop of color to the room. I follow Ty onto the elevator after he checks in, and we get off on the 18th floor. Our room overlooks the Chicago River and has floor-to-ceiling windows like those of the Sears Tower.
“This place had to cost you a fortune, Ty,” I say, as I watch the sight-seeing boats go under the bridge on the river below.
“You’re worth it,” says Ty. He picks up a plate sitting on the table by the window. I’d been so distracted by the amazing view, I hadn’t even seen it sitting there. “Want a chocolate-covered strawberry?” He picks one up and holds it out for me. Bits of dark and white chocolate swirl around the largest strawberry I have ever seen.
“Did you order these?” I ask.
“I did. This whole weekend is planned out, Mae. You’re going to have a great time.” I wish I could believe him because though my body may be in Chicago, my thoughts are too scattered. Ty goes into the bathroom and returns with a white robe. “Here. Take everything off and put this on. We’re having a couples massage,” he says. “The spa’s one floor up. There’s a private set of stairs we can take, so they recommend getting ready in the room.”
“That’s nice,” I say, taking the robe and going into the bathroom to change. There is no amount of rubbing down that will release the tension I have stored up since Sarah’s death, but it’s sweet of Ty to try. There is a knock on the door.
“Everything okay in there?” he asks.
“Yeah, I’ll be right out.” I tighten the sash on my robe, put on the slippers sitting on the counter, and open the door. Ty is waiting, dressed in an identical robe.
“You look amazing,” he says, taking my hand and twirling me around. “Maybe I should cancel our appointment. I think I could give you a massage.” He reaches for the sash of my robe and tugs on it. I throw my arms over my chest to keep the robe from falling open.
“Don’t!” I say a bit too firmly.
“God, Mae, you act like I’m a stranger.”
“I’m…I’m sorry. It’s not the right time. Come on. We can’t miss our appointment.”
“You sure that’s all you’re concerned about?” he asks.
“Yeah, that’s all. Really. Come on.” I take his hand and lead him out of our hotel room, knowing that my acting has been believed, for now. How much longer can I pretend that this relationship is something I even want at all? Being here with Ty is wrong.
We are given wine and crackers when we arrive for our massage. No one cares that we aren’t twenty-one yet. Money talks, and Ty is throwing it around like he’s proud. Bring us the whole bottle, please. We’d like th
e hot rock treatment, too. Yes, I know that’s extra. No, that’s not a problem. Where’s that bottle of wine? Who is this guy?
There is a moment when I disrobe and Ty is staring at my naked body that I want to run from the room.
“You are so damn hot, Mae. I can’t wait to get you back to the room. I think I’ll cancel dinner reservations.” Thankful for the arrival of the two masseuses, an overly muscular man with hands that could only inflict pain, I’m sure, and a petite woman with a kind smile, I lie on the table and close my eyes, trying to drown out the intersecting messages in my head: You’re making a mistake. Ty loves you. You can’t fix Ty. He’s bad for you. “Are you okay?” whispers the masseuse in my ear. I shake my head yes. She hands me a tissue. How did she even know I was crying? “Try to focus on something that makes you happy. It will help you to relax.” So, I picture Matt, baking cookies before Christmas and our Thursday video game nights, and I can feel my shoulders start to melt into the table.
When we are alone again, I know that I cannot continue with this weekend, let alone this night. Thinking that Ty and I could work things out was a huge mistake. He’s changed. I’ve changed. It’s not my obligation to fix him. I’m not strong enough to even try.
“They’re bringing another bottle of wine,” says Ty. “We’ll take it back to the room to have before dinner.” He winks at me. I notice that the first bottle of wine is gone. I’ve only had one glass. Ty touches my shoulder. “Man, you’re tight, Mae. Did your massage suck?”
“No, it was great. Thanks.” I grab my robe and put it on quickly. Ty sits on his table, still naked. I’ve felt a lot of emotions over the last year with Ty, but fear has never been one of them. Yet, at this moment, that is all that I feel. That and pity.
When we are back in our hotel room, I head into the bathroom to change. Ty grabs me from behind and unties my sash before I can stop him. This time I don’t react fast enough because he surprises me. He lets his robe fall at the same time and pushes his body close to mine.
“Ty, don’t. Stop!” He pushes the robe off my shoulder and kisses my neck. I push him away, but he doesn’t budge. “Stop!” This time I push harder. He ignores me, his superhuman strength fueled by the wine. His kisses move to my lips. They hurt, not the soft tentative touches of his first kiss many months ago. I am suddenly terrified, and fueled by the anger and frustration I’ve felt for years. I thrust my knee upward as hard as I can. It works. Ty falls to the ground, holding himself in the groin. I grab my purse and run into the bathroom, locking the door. My hand is shaking as I dial my phone. Oh God, please be there. Please be there.