Oh, damn.
He was right again.
She’d come to terms with her mom, her dad and even Nick.
But it was herself she found most daunting
She’d been doing the very thing she’d been appalled at her therapist Charlene for suggesting: she was going around the issue.
It was time to go through.
That night, Luna sat on her dock. The moon looked almost full. There was just the barest sliver missing. She stared into the water, at the ripples reflecting in the light.
The current was moving toward her at a pretty fast clip.
It was nippy out, as early spring nights often were – she tugged her knit cap further down on her ears and zipped her jacket to the max, until it touched her chin.
It was okay, though.
The air may have been chilly, but it was fresh, and that was all that mattered.
“So, Jiminy… we come to the real truth.”
Of course, he didn’t answer. She hadn’t expected him to. She had to do all the hard stuff herself. That would’ve made her angry before, but not anymore.
It is what it is, she thought.
She took a deep breath and let it out. Then she closed her eyes and said the serenity prayer.
“I surrender,” she said. “I’m ready to finish this now.”
She saw it then.
In her mind, she saw the puddle.
And she fell into it, on her knees.
It felt so good, like when she was at Walden Pond.
“I forgive myself,” she said.
Then she opened her eyes.
In the water below, the float swayed and creaked on the tide, bumping against the two tall beams it was attached to on either side.
The ramp bopped with it, rolling on its wheels slightly.
Luna felt a pop reverberating through her, just as the water carried sounds.
In her head it was like being on an airplane, when the pressure shifted and the ear canals were finally clear again.
In her body it was a crackling, like at Dr. Gold’s.
Then came a cool sensation, a rush of relief from head to toe. Now she could breathe with absolute clarity.
She noticed two ducks then, swimming with the current, side by side.
Gracefully, they headed under the dock and then out the other side.
She was at the other side, too.
She’d gone through.
She was free.
And she knew she had the ending of her novel.
Luna sat for a long time on the dock, just basking in being.
Sunny called.
“Dude, I’m on a break,” she said. “I had to call and tell you what happened to me.”
“Did you fall in a puddle?”
“Yuck! No,” Sunny said, making a sucking sound. “I’m smoking an electronic cigarette, incidentally.”
“Good for you! That’s a start.”
“We’ll see. Anyway, we all got Taco Bell for dinner, and guess what?”
“Did you get a funny saying on a sauce packet?” Luna had actually framed her favorite packet and hung it in her kitchen: You had me at taco.
“No, but you’re on the right track. It involves the sauce.” She made another sucking sound, then continued. “When I squirted out the sauce into my napkin, it came out in a heart shape.”
“Awww,” said Luna.
“This is a sign that I’m on the right track,” Sunny said. “I broke up with JoshJohn.”
“Thank God! Did he take it badly?”
“Ha, ha. Anyway, I’m going to try dating again,” said Sunny. “But this time I’m determined to filter out substance abusers, dullards and guys who don’t know I’m dating them.”
“Excellent!” said Luna.
“What I really want is a little voice that talks to me, like Jiminy,” said Sunny.
“Well, Jiminy said all you have to do is be open to it.”
Sunny said, “I want a female, so I can call it ‘Jemama.’”
“Only you would have criteria for your inner conscience,” said Luna. She looked up at the moon again. It suddenly seemed full.
“Oh, I almost forgot. I had a thought about you and Trip,” Sunny said.
“Did it involve a sanitarium?’
“No.” Sunny made a sucking noise again.
Luna stared at the moon. How did it fill in like that? “So?”
“This popped into my head,” said Sunny. “It’s an odd theory.”
“Of course it is,” said Luna. “Shoot.”
“Have you considered that maybe this whole thing has been about two people afraid to have a relationship?”
“Huh.” Luna still focused on that radiant moon. It looked so low and close, like she could just drive a few miles and grab onto it. “You know, you could be right.”
She called Trip.
“Hey, I can’t talk for long. I’m still working,” he said.
“I just wanted to tell you something quick,” she said.
“Shoot.”
“I don’t want any other lover but you,” she said.
There was a pause. Then he asked, “But am I the only lover you have?”
“Yes.”
“Good to know.”
FIFTY-FOUR
The next morning was Easter.
Luna woke up to Dylan’s sharp voice: “Wake up, Mommy! We have to see if the Easter bunny came!”
“Okey-dokey,” Luna mumbled, forcing herself to rise. She was in Dylan’s bed at Nick’s, having stayed up until two a.m. making the kids’ baskets. “I’m sure the bunny brought you something really special, baby.”
Ben greeted them in the hall, rubbing his eyes. “Happy Easter, Mom.” He hugged her.
Nick emerged from his room a few moments later, as a result of Dylan rushing in and shaking him awake.
Everyone headed into the living room to behold the baskets, which were humongous and packed.
“Look, the bunny got me Peeps!” Dylan exclaimed, ripping into the yellow package and snarfing a marshmallow chick with one hand while still rifling the basket with the other.
Dylan also got a kick out of seeing the carrot snacks he’d left for the bunny gnawed down to their green stems, with some orange spittle added for effect.
Ben was as tall as Luna now, and he’d grown past the bunny illusion. That was the difference five years made. He still appreciated a basket stuffed with goodies. He just knew who’d really stayed up late making it.
The kids feasted on a breakfast of chocolate bunnies’ heads, with sugary sides of jellybeans and Cadbury Cream Eggs. Then everyone sat around the coffee table to play the games the “bunny” had also put in the baskets. Luna, Dylan and Nick played Operation, while Nick simultaneously played Connect Four with Ben.
Luna was surprised at how deftly she removed the patient’s “spare rib.”
Dylan came out on top after Nick purposely flubbed his attempt to retrieve the “funny bone,” winking at Luna as the patient’s bulbous red nose flashed and the game vibrated violently. Dylan then got it for double the money, because he held the “specialist” card.
“Ha!” Dylan said, brandishing the funny bone he clutched in the tweezers. “I win!”
“You do,” Luna and Nick said in unison.
Nick was more competitive with his older son. Chips dropped and clinked rapidly, and they wound up tying in “games won”: four to four; all in the time it took for one round of Operation.
He may have sucked as a husband, but Nick had grown into a good dad. She wondered if he’d had his own awakening, but not enough to ask. As long as the kids were being cared for, that was all that mattered.
After the games, Luna and Dylan left to go to her house. He was determined to teach her how to ride a bike today.
Today, she felt like she could do it.
“Look, Mommy, a snail!” Dylan said, pointing to the walkway as they headed toward the car.
Dylan loved all creatures.
“H
ello, snail,” she said.
“His name is Marvin,” Dylan proclaimed.
“Okay. ’Bye, Marvin,” she called, as they climbed in the van.
Luna got on the bike and pedaled, with Dylan gripping the rear and running. She wasn’t scared this time. If I fall, I’ll just get up, she thought. No big deal.
Still, she wanted Dylan to hold on until she said so. She rode across the field, getting ready. “Ok, let go!” she called out.
There was no answer.
Dylan wasn’t there. He’d already released her!
She felt a slight tinge of panic, but then she laughed.
She laughed and laughed, like a madwoman. She was riding her bike solo, the wind in her hair, and even though she was still shaky, she oozed freedom.
She rode on for a little while, trying to get comfortable enough to maneuver and steer toward where she wanted to go.
Finally she managed to head back to Dylan. “Yea, Mommy!” He cheered.
“Why’d you let go before I said so?” Luna asked.
“Oh, Mommy. You’re a big girl,” he said. “It was time you went out on your own.”
Luna stared at her wise son. “You’re right, baby.” She got off the bike—not very smoothly but not with a thunk to the ground, either—and embraced Dylan. “Thanks.”
When they got back to Nick’s, they found Marvin the snail squashed and eviscerated. “I should’ve moved him, Mommy,” Dylan cried. “I could’ve saved him.”
“Sweetie, you can’t rescue everyone and everything in the world,” Luna told him. “The most valiant thing you can do is to save yourself.”
Dylan considered this. “Okay, Mommy. But can we have a funeral for Marvin?”
“Sure. Let’s see if your dad has a box to bury him in.”
“Nah, we can flush him. It’ll be like a burial at sea.”
“Whatever you say, baby.”
At home again, alone, Luna drank coffee outside in weather fit for a Disney movie.
Birds chirped, squirrels bounded through the grass. Spring was here.
Above the water, the egret soared with his mate, white wings wide.
Beneath them, a long line of ducks floated along the current.
It was all very zippity-doo-dah, and while Luna had never subscribed to the resurrection in the literal sense, she felt reborn.
Life was beautiful. She was beautiful.
Every breath was beautiful.
She was so happy to be with herself, alone.
Jiminy was right, she thought.
Well, thank you, he said. It’s nice to be appreciated.
Trip came over with Easter turkey dinners in take-out tins from the diner.
And an Easter basket wrapped in purple cellophane!
“Some bunny brought you a present,” he said, handing the gift over. He gave her a kiss.
“”That’s so sweet,” she said. Then she saw the centerpiece inside. Surrounded by all kinds of chocolates and candies was The Catcher in the Rye.
“It’s a first edition,” Trip told her.
“What?” This was an unbelievably generous gift, both on the money and on the thought scale. “Holy smoke! I can’t believe you got this for me.”
“I had to make up for those gloves,” he said. “And I owed you a birthday present, too.”
“You didn’t find this in a dumpster, did you?”
“No.” He laughed. “I guess I had that coming. And truthfully, if I had found it in a dumpster, I would’ve still given it to you. I don’t think where you find something has anything to do with how you can treasure it.”
That was a deep thought. She always knew Trip was capable of depth, and it was nice to see him flexing those muscles. “What made you think of Salinger?”
“I wanted to give you something you love. And you told me how much you love this book.”
“I really do.” She put her basket down and embraced Trip.
In bed later, Trip looked her in the eyes. He said, “I love you, Luna.”
Going to sleep, they lay side by side.
Trip reached out and held Luna’s hand.
Luna woke up a while later. She’d rolled over in her sleep, and Trip was curled against her back, arm around her.
This was a relationship, she realized. Everything else had been drama.
It wasn’t perfect, but this was calm.
She was calm.
Being in a relationship was like falling into water. Sink or swim.
And a relationship was like water. No matter how hard you tried, there was only so much of it you could hold in your palms, and even that was bound to seep through cracks, eventually.
The only thing to do was splash around in it while you could, or get out.
Trip’s body pressed warm on hers.
And she was happy.
Congratulations, Luna, said Jiminy. Our work is done.
“You’re leaving me?”
You don’t need me anymore.
She started to protest, but he was right.
I’m proud of you, Luna.
“Wait! What about Trip?”
What about him?
“Is… Is he the partner I’m meant to be with?”
I told you, it was never about Trip. It was about why you were with him. Your book is finished. What comes next is up to you.
What a profound little fucker he was. She was going to miss him.
There was nothing more to say, except… “Goodbye, Jiminy.”
Goodbye, Luna.
Trip sighed in his sleep. Amazingly, he wasn’t snoring.
Enjoy this excerpt from
MELT
Book One of the Rough Romance Trilogy
Selene Castrovilla
Winner of six awards
Praise for MELT
“Dorothy and Joey’s plight is both an inner and an outer struggle, a reckoning with a cold world, and a psychological drama about the stakes of truth-telling that ends with a gratifying act of mercy… A fresh, emotionally complex bildungsroman of young American love that looks long and hard at violence, and at what can overcome it.”
—Kirkus Reviews
“Melt is evocative, emotional, vivid, and powerful. Beautiful, painful, and ultimately healing, Melt is a gripping read that will make you feel and care about the characters.”
–– Cheryl Rainfield, award-winning author of
SCARS and STAINED
“It was so well-written. If I were to meet Selene right now, I’d clap in front of her for she has written something painfully real and beautiful.”
—The Quirky Reader
“MELT was one of the most powerful, stunning books I’ve read all year… Castrovilla sets MELT against a WIZARD of OZ backdrop and the L. Frank Baum passages offer a unique insight into the plot of MELT.
The plot was incredibly real, raw, and painful. Castrovilla takes on many different subjects, such as abuse, addiction, and first love. Despite the heavy subject matter, this novel reads extremely quickly and is amazingly well-written.
If you are a fan of realistic, contemporary fiction, this novel should be a MUST READ.”
—Lady Reader’s Bookstuff
“Melt… reminded me of why I love to read. My heart was literally pounding… I couldn’t put it down.”
—Eve’s Fan Garden
“This is such a captivating read from the start. I got so involved with the characters that I was afraid to leave them, afraid that I might miss out on something big if I stop reading.”
—The Cursed Empire
“I get the writing style of “Melt” isn’t for everyone. It’s written as verse, poetic-like. But the book is so deep, but yet such an easy read. I’ll never forget it. NEVER. And I’ll forever recommend it as a must-read. The fact that she could introduce these deep characters in such a structure and make me feel like I know them is mind blowing. I have nothing but praise to the author… she created a powerful book that will forever haunt the reader. Poignant and entirely realisti
c, MELT is a book that should NEVER be missed.”
—Her Book Thoughts!
“All I could think was ‘God help them’. And I couldn’t stop reading.”
—Sheri’s Reviews, Goodreads
“Different. Intense. Perfect. This story was all of these, and so much more.”
—Bibilophilia, Goodreads
No Place Like Home
“‘What shall we do?’ asked the Tin Woodman.
‘If we leave her here she will die,’ said the Lion.”
—From The Wonderful Wizard of OZ by L. Frank Baum
Mom stopped crying a
long
time ago.
Now
she don’t even
whimper
when he does it. He comes
home
in his steel blue shirt shiny black shoes shiny tie clip shining
badge
he blows in and the screen door
slams
behind him like it’s pissed off
he’s
back.
He comes in shuts the front door clicks the lock closed
he wipes his shoes on the mat
back and forth
back
and
forth he pads across the shit-brown carpet without a sound
his eyes are empty his eyes are
dark his eyes are
wrought
lead like his
Glock.
I catch a whiff of his favorite mouthwash
Jack
Daniel’s
he used to smell of Listerine and Jack but he don’t bother trying to
cover
up
these days.
Without a look he goes past me and Jimmy and Warren. Warren’s got his textbooks spread out across the couch but he ain’t studying
not
no more. Grim music drifts from our video game low
chilling
sounds like any second the reaper’s gonna
strike. Me and Jimmy we’re playing Halo on Xbox, least we were ‘til
he
Luna Rising Page 34