by Amanda Dick
Frustration written all over her rapidly reddening face, Ally pushed Maggie’s hand away a second time. “What is this, twenty questions?”
“You ignore your phone and lock yourself in here with that thing blaring, I think we’ve got a right to be a little concerned, don’t you?” Callum snapped.
“I’m fine!” she shouted, eyeballing him.
“Really? You look fine, sitting on the floor like this, amongst all this shit! Did you do all this?”
“It’s my studio, I can do what I want in here!”
“You’re right, it is, and I don’t give a shit what you do in here, but why didn’t you answer your phone, or the door? Being pig-headed is one thing, but this is just plain selfish!”
She pushed him away irritably. “Get out of here, I’m fine! I don’t need the third degree, especially not from you!”
“Oh, okay – so it’s me you’re pissed at then? Is that what all this is about?”
“I’m not pissed at anybody! I just wanted to be by myself for a while, but apparently that’s too much to ask! I don’t need you running in here every time I miss a call!”
“Check your damn messages, it wasn’t just one phone call you missed! Jesus Ally, do you even know how freaked out we were, or do you just not give a damn?”
Her face reddened.
“It’s been a rough week, with Tom, and all this other stuff happening,” Callum shot a quick glance over his shoulder at Jack. “I know things have been kinda crazy, but you can’t do this, you can’t ignore the phone and ignore us and expect us not to worry! We had a deal, remember?”
“I’m fine – you can see I’m fine!”
They glared at each other in silence for a few moments before Maggie intervened. “We’re sorry. We were worried, that’s all.”
“How did you even get in here?” Ally ignored her, directing her question at Callum, who appeared to be taking the brunt of her anger.
Jack cleared his throat self-consciously. “Dad had a spare key.”
“You wouldn’t answer your phone, or your door. If you want to blame anyone, blame me, it was my idea,” Callum snapped.
She glared at him. “Bring me my chair.”
“There’s broken glass everywhere,” he warned, standing up and picking his way over the debris to her wheelchair. “And paint, and all this other crap. I’ll give you a hand.”
“I don’t need your help.”
Jack cringed at her tone.
“Right – would you rather pick up an infected cut instead?”
She glowered up at him, but he swooped in to pick her up off the floor anyway. Jack was impressed. Had she looked at him like that, he wasn’t sure he would have had the guts to go anywhere near her.
Maggie tilted her wheelchair back and guided it carefully through the room and out into the hallway. Jack followed her, standing in the kitchen doorway, his head spinning.
Callum expertly deposited Ally into the waiting chair, one of her shoes falling off in the process. He picked it up and handed it back to her. She snatched it off him, dropping it in her lap and immediately heading away from them down the hallway.
“You’re welcome!” Callum called after her.
She whirled around to face them. “Thanks for completely over-reacting and treating me like a five year old, really appreciate it.”
“Oh for God’s sake, just calm down, alright?”
“Don’t tell me to calm down – this is my house!” she yelled. “Sideshow’s over – now you can all get the hell out!”
“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen until you un-bunch your panties,” he shot back. “I’m gonna brew some coffee. Maybe when you’ve stopped hulking out, you can come into the kitchen and join us and we can talk about this like the civilised people we’re supposed to be.”
She glared at him, then turned around and disappeared into her bedroom, slamming the door shut behind her.
Callum breathed out a frustrated sigh and leaned back against the wall as Maggie stared after her. Jack barely dared to breathe. Somehow, he had managed to blend into the background. They stood in silence for several moments before Callum pushed himself upright.
“Well, like she said, show’s over.” He addressed Jack pointedly. “You can go home now.”
Jack shook his head. “I’m staying.”
“He’s right,” Maggie said. “You should probably go home. We’ll stay for a while longer, just in case.”
“That’s what I want to talk to you about,” he said quietly. “Just in case of what?”
Maggie’s shared a guarded look with Callum.
“I’m not leaving until someone tells me, so you can count me in for that coffee.”
“You’re better off not knowing,” Callum said. “In fact, I can pretty much guarantee that if we did tell you, you’d wish we hadn’t. You should go home, Jack – I’m serious.”
Jack nodded, his stomach churning. “Yeah, well, so am I.”
Ally hadn’t come out of her room and Callum and Maggie were in the kitchen, making coffee. They spoke in hushed tones, but Jack couldn’t make out what they were saying. Something slammed on the counter.
“Then what the hell do you suggest!”
The hushed tones resumed and he sighed. He supposed he should go in there, but he stood in the hallway, reluctant to move. If what Callum said was true, he wasn’t going to like what he was about to hear and if he was honest with himself, he was scared.
Cupboard doors opened and closed and he heard footsteps, followed by the sound of the TV being switched on. He stood for a moment, debating his options, before walking down the hall to Ally’s door, knocking softly. There was no answer but he took a chance and pushed it open anyway, peering around the corner. She sat on the edge of her bed, frowning at him. He took the bull by the horns, remembering his chat with Callum the night before. Somehow, it had seemed much less frightening then. Now, faced with the anxiety that seemed to roll off her, doubt had begun to creep in.
Aware that he was standing there, staring at her, he cleared his throat quietly. “Can I come in?”
She shrugged sharply, indicating she didn’t care one way or the other, although her body language suggested otherwise. Easing the door closed behind him, he stood awkwardly, waiting.
“Where are they?” she asked, fear lurking beneath her words.
“In the kitchen.”
Taking a shuddering breath, her gaze sank to the floor. “Why are you still here?”
He slipped his hands into his pockets. “I was hoping we could talk – y’know, without all the yelling.”
She didn’t respond, even though he waited for longer than was comfortable.
“Can I sit down?”
She nodded reluctantly and he walked over to her, sidestepping her wheelchair and sitting down on the bed next to her. He braced his hands on his thighs, stealing a sideways glance at her.
“Are you alright?” he asked carefully. “That was pretty intense.”
“I’m fine.”
Clearly a knee-jerk reaction because she sounded far from it. He noticed she had replaced the shoe that had fallen off earlier. He stared at her shoes – flat, black and leather with thin straps that fit over the tops of her feet. The leather looked soft, giving him the impression of ballet slippers. The sort of shoe she used to hate. She preferred boots in the winter – her favorites being a purple leather pair with a two-inch heel that made them almost the same height – and in the summer, strappy sandals with heels in bright colors, the brighter the better.
Swallowing down the observation, he tried again. “I don’t know what just happened here but it feels like I’m missing something important.” He turned his attention from her shoes to her face as she sniffed. “Do you want to tell me what it is? Because I gotta say, Callum’s threatening to fill me in and I’d much rather hear it from you.”
She stared at the floor. As the seconds ticked by, he tried to imagine what the big revelation might be.
“Can
we talk about this another time?” she said finally. “I don’t know if I can do this right now.”
He fought the temptation to yield, given she was obviously upset, but he couldn’t deny the feeling that this was some kind of defining moment. Callum was right – she was scared of letting him in. He had to find a way to show her that it was okay, whatever ‘it’ was.
“Talk to me,” he murmured, reaching over to enclose her hand in his. “Please?”
He could feel the calluses at the base of her fingers, and she was trembling. A study in paradoxes. So strong, yet so vulnerable. Tears slid down her cheeks, tearing at his heart. The pain was so raw, it scared him. Not a physical pain, but an emotional pain – a pain that settled in your soul and left scars. He knew because he had seen that look before, in the mirror.
“It’s not easy. Talking about this, thinking about it,” she said finally, in a voice that was heartbreakingly small.
He nodded, trying hard to keep his expression neutral when his heart told him that anything that had hurt her this much was going to hurt him even more.
“I did something,” she whimpered. “Something I really regret now.”
She squeezed his hand, as if willing him to stay with her while she got through this.
Maggie stopped halfway down the hallway, straining to hear.
“What’s going on?” Callum murmured as she frantically waved a hand behind her, urging him to be quiet.
They both stood motionless. After a few moments, she shrugged and tip-toed back to the kitchen, pushing him through the door on her way past.
“Well?” he asked, as she picked up her cup of coffee off the kitchen table.
“Can’t hear a thing.”
He took a step backwards and glanced down the hall towards Ally’s room.
“Do you think she’s telling him what happened?”
“Get in here!” she hissed.
Reluctantly, he did as he was asked, sitting down at the table again. He picked up his coffee cup and took a quick sip.
“I feel like we should be doing something,” Maggie said, chewing on her bottom lip. “Don’t you feel like we should be doing something?”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. It’s just this waiting around… I hate waiting.”
He set his coffee cup down on the table in front of him and stared at it. All was quiet, bar the noisy ticking of the clock in the hallway.
Jack felt like the floor had opened up beneath him and he was spiraling down into the bowels of hell. Her voice came at him as if via a tunnel, the words whooshing past him as he plummeted. He felt sick to his stomach as he stared at her tear-stained face.
He grabbed for her hand and anchored her to him, her silent plea for understanding as clear as any words she could have spoken aloud. He felt the pain that poured out of her, a whisper away from being tangible as it filled the air around them. Moving closer, he pulled her to him, holding her close against his chest in a desperate attempt to save them both.
Callum picked up the broken glass littering Ally’s studio, depositing it into a small cardboard box he found under the workbench. He glanced over at Maggie, who was picking up paint tubes and brushes on the other side of the room.
“Shit – holy freakin’ shit,” she mumbled under her breath. “Look at this.”
Callum sat back on his haunches as she lifted up a canvas, ripped in several places. She tilted it for him to see and he sighed heavily, blowing out air through his teeth.
“Is that…?”
“Yeah, it is.”
They both stared at the painting Ally had been working on for weeks, the final one for the exhibition. Maggie shook her head and fingered the ripped canvas gingerly.
“It’s trashed,” she said. “There’s no way to repair this.”
Callum shrugged helplessly. Was this some kind of a statement on Ally’s part, or just a tantrum that had gotten out of control? Either way, the painting was history.
A door opened and they heard footsteps down the hallway, followed by the back door opening and closing. They both sprang to their feet and made a beeline for it. Through the glass, they saw Jack standing in the back yard with his back to them, his fingers laced behind his neck.
“See if she’s alright,” Callum said. “I’ll go talk to him.”
Maggie threw one last anxious glance at Jack before heading down the hall. He took a deep breath, opened the back door and walked out onto the ramp. He stood for a few moments, waiting for Jack to turn and acknowledge him. When he didn’t, he cleared his throat.
No response.
Uncertainty buzzed through him. He tried to put himself in Jack’s shoes, and his stomach began to churn. Despite the obvious differences in him, he knew Jack well enough to understand that this would hit him hard. His presence here was tenuous, even though he claimed otherwise. How would he react? Ally needed him now, more than ever, but his past performance when it came to responsibility wasn’t exactly stellar.
He slid his hands into his pockets as he walked down the ramp towards him. “Hey, you okay?”
He waited several moments for an answer.
“Not really, no.”
“She told you, then.”
“Yeah, she told me.”
They stood in silence. A cool breeze sent a chill down Callum’s neck. “I found her, that day.”
He didn’t talk about this with anyone, not even Tom. He tried to forget about the events of that morning – to bury them – but despite his efforts, they refused to budge. Every time Ally didn’t answer her phone, they came rushing back to the surface like it had only happened yesterday. The panic, the horror, the disbelief. Even though he knew now why she did it, it didn’t help. She wasn’t bulletproof, despite what she wanted them to think.
“She was lying on her bed. I thought she was – “ He took a shuddering breath as the panic he had felt that day hit him anew.
Jack’s hands fell to his side as he turned to face him. The look on his face took Callum’s breath away. Tears rolled down his cheeks and he swiped the back of his hand under his nose roughly.
“Why didn’t he tell me?”
Callum shook his head, speechless.
Suddenly, Jack had him by the shirt, propelling him over the lawn and slamming him up against the side of the house, knocking the breath out of him.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jack hissed, face contorted into a heartbreaking combination of rage and fear. “Why didn’t someone tell me?”
Callum gasped, winded. Jack’s face was inches from his and he was scared. He blinked rapidly, pushing at Jack to get him to back off. Jack drew back his fist and Callum squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for the impact. When it didn’t come, he opened them warily and Jack aimed his palm into the wall next to him instead, missing his head by a fraction of an inch.
Jack released him, stumbling away as Callum slid to the ground, gasping for air.
“I wanted to tell you,” he heaved, his throat burning. “I wanted Tom to tell you, but he wouldn’t.”
Jack turned to face him, skepticism written all over his face. “Bullshit!”
Callum shook his head, pain shooting up his neck. “It’s true! He said it wouldn’t do any good, it wouldn’t change anything.”
Jack huffed out a sarcastic laugh, still pacing up and down, shaking his hand out.
“Would you have come back if you’d known?” Callum demanded. “Honestly?”
Jack glared at him helplessly, then turned away.
“Come on – would you?”
“I don’t know,” Jack mumbled, standing with his back to him, inspecting his hand.
“Then don’t go blaming anybody.”
Callum pushed himself away from the house and stood up shakily. “You weren’t here, you didn’t know. That was three years ago and she’s still here and she’s doing fine. Well, she was, until you came back.”
Jack turned back to him, eyes narrowing dangerously. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying be careful. If you need some time to think about this, fine, take it, but make it quick.”
“Time to think about what?” Realisation dawned. “For Christ’s sake, I don’t need any time to think about anything!”
“You sure about that?”
“Am I pissed off that nobody told me about this? Damn straight. Does it hurt? More than you’ll ever know.” He shook his head, his voice catching in his throat. “But does it make me want to get the hell out of Dodge? No way. I’m here and I’m staying and I’m starting to wonder how many times I have to tell you people that before you get it!”
“You –“
“Yeah, I know – shitty track record! But if you thought this was gonna change things, you’re dead wrong.”
Callum fidgeted uncomfortably and Jack honed in.
“You did, didn’t you? You thought that once I knew about this, I’d take off again!”
Callum didn’t bother denying it.
“Why the hell did you give me that pep talk last night if you felt that way?” Jack demanded.
“Jesus, get over yourself!“ Callum exploded. “That wasn’t a pep talk! It’s not about you – none of this is about you! Don’t you see what you’re dealing with here? You can’t just pick and choose what you can and can’t handle! It’s a package deal – all or nothing, those are your options!”
Jack breathed heavily through his nose, his jaw clenched tight. The breeze gently rustled the leaves above them.
“You have to decide,” Callum continued, calming himself. “Because if you leave, what happens to her? What happens if there aren’t any more pieces to pick up? I don’t know who the hell you are anymore dude, but I know her, and I know she deserves a hell of a lot better than this. I can’t just walk away and leave you to it, hoping like hell that you’re gonna do the right thing by her. She’s – we’ve – been through too much for that and the truth of it is, I just plain don’t trust you.”
“I know that, that’s why I’m here, busting my ass to try and prove to you that you can!” Jack insisted. “And I don’t expect you to walk away, either. She needs you, even I can see that.”
Callum shook his head, his cheeks burning. Strangely, hearing Jack say it did nothing to comfort him. He didn’t want Ally to need him. He wanted her to want him. Even as the thought crossed his mind, he knew it was impossible – now, more than ever.