“Thanks.”
He sits on the coffee table facing her, puts her feet on his legs. “Look, we should probably make a plan.”
Here it is. It’s exactly now that Liam’s going to give her the whole story about why he can’t have a baby. Maybe his evil ex had a miscarriage or Liam dropped a baby brother on his head. “Did you have a brother?” she interrupts.
Liam exhales like he’s trying to blow out a birthday candle. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“I just thought maybe you had a little brother.”
“That’s you, Marla.” He stares at her like he forgot he started this whole conversation. “This isn’t working.”
So, there is nothing, just Liam with his important job interview and his expensive furniture. That she’s probably bleeding on. She checks the back of the couch. Good. No blood. “So, you’ve had another plan all along.”
“Well, I know I’m not ready to be a dad.” Liam puts her legs down and starts pacing the room. “I feel like we should just work on us—see how that goes.”
Marla pictures the fishy little creature growing inside her and tries to decide if she will look like her or Liam. “We’ll be good parents.”
Liam ticks items off on his fingers: “We could break up, we’d need more money coming in, I’d have to find a new place to do lessons—”
“You think we’re going to break up?” Marla takes herself back to when she first met Liam, who drank bottomless cups of coffee that she refilled as he marked up music, smudged in graphite. Of him driving her home after her shift, talking about being abandoned by his dad and caring for his mom after she train-wrecked. And now, lazing around while he practises, feeling the low notes reverberate in her chest and wishing there was something about her that could be that generous and true. Without Liam, Marla would end up with the kind of boyfriends she used to have, mostly skateboarders she met at raves who were into punk music and drinking beer for lunch.
“Look, I need to trust you.”
“That’s easy!”
“No, it isn’t. You can’t sneak in here. You can’t take money from me and give it to Dani.”
He doesn’t get it. When she doesn’t respond, Liam lifts his cello by the neck and flips the page on his sheet music. He plays the same brooding thing he’s been sawing at for months: quick notes with sharp edges, and the part that sounds like a rollercoaster—up, then down and looping around. He runs one ten-second clip on repeat, his upper lip sweating. It’s for his audition.
Most guys, she gets tired of. But Liam is different. She worries he’ll get tired of her. “Listen, I won’t do that again. I promise. What if we went on a trip to the mountains, to celebrate your audition? Spend some time together just you and me.”
Liam pauses with his fingers waggling back and forth on the string. “Okay. I mean, we have to give this a chance—so, yes.” Liam strokes her hair. “Is your head still bleeding?”
She holds the towel out, moving it back and forth slightly as if it’s a hologram. Red on red. “I can’t tell.”
7. POP CAN
MARLA AT WORK, so good time to help her organize. Dealt with these items from Marla’s spare room:
•vacuum cleaner, nonworking: garbage
•toaster oven, nonworking: garbage
•iron, nonworking: garbage
•miscellaneous paperwork that shouldn’t be recycled;
Marla to look through
•extra kitchenware: give away
•old school projects of Marla’s: box in the closet
•clothes that need mending: sewn
•cans of baked beans, expired: garbage
•newspapers and magazines: recycling
•gift bags: saved three in the closet, rest in garbage
Dani sitting on the floor, watching me clean, smiling at me. Playing with her puppy, named him Zigzag. Not lonely now.
The days get longer, but it is still grey in the late afternoon, and the snow sits in hard crusts in the cold. Marla swallows prenatal vitamins and wears stretchy pants and focuses her thoughts on Liam.
He’s been so happy these last few weeks, calling her after work to say good night and asking her if there’s anything he can do, which is weird, because she hasn’t been seeing him much with all his practising. Everyone’s been happy. Marla thinks it’s because of Gavin, who spends all his time making people feel good. He’s been building shelves for Dani’s records and eating with her when Marla’s at work; and cleaning up Marla’s house for her, room by room, boxing up donations and filling the recycling bin. He somehow had time to make Liam a kind of glockenspiel for his birthday and then took everyone bowling, even Dani. He’s quiet and good and Marla doesn’t want him to ever leave.
The Friday before Valentines’ Day, Dani’s on Marla’s bed when Marla gets out of the shower. “Hey. What are you doing?”
“Waiting for you.” Dani is flipping through one of the pregnancy books Marla keeps forgetting to return to the library.
Marla shakes her towel off and steps into her panties. She has to get ready, because Liam will be here any minute.
Dani gestures towards a picture of a swelling body. “I remember all this shit. You had a pregnant orgasm yet?”
“No. Why?”
“Get familiar with yourself, Marla. It’s like a thousand times more powerful. Wait until you get big.”
“Yeah? What else?”
“Your hair gets thicker. Sometimes your pee smells.”
Marla laughs, throws a pillow at her. “No, that’s just you, Dani.”
“You’ll grow tons of butt hair, and by eight months you’ll be too big to run or walk, just waddle.”
“As if!” Shirtless Marla tackles Dani and pushes the pillow over her face. It’s an old game.
“Okay, okay,” Dani says from under the pillow. Marla lets her up. “You’ll still be a waif, but you’ll have a basketball belly that will make it impossible for you to drive.”
“Maybe,” Marla says.
“Let’s measure.” Dani sits behind her and holds her arms around Marla’s waist in an approximation of a womb at capacity.
“Really? That big?”
“Massive. I was out to here.” Dani holds her arms wide enough to put several watermelons inside. “Pretty soon you’ll need new clothes.”
Expensive. Marla’s already had to get a new bra. Her breasts used to be so nice and small, something she could run with, but not anymore. “Liam’s going to be here soon,” Marla says.
“Lucky you, going away for a romp or two.”
So that’s why she’s here. Marla slows down, inching around the subject. “Should be fun.”
Dani takes a prescription bottle out of her pocket and pours several pills. “I see what he did to your face.”
Marla touches the scab at her hairline. “What are you talking about? I walked right into it.”
Dani throws her head back, swallowing five pills at once. “Did you?”
“Well, no. I tickled him, and he bumped the cupboard door and it hit me.” Marla pulls on a long button-up dress, leaving the top button undone. The dress is tight across her belly.
“He whipped a cupboard door into your head. You want me to believe he didn’t know you were right there, at that exact height?”
There’s a part of Marla that’s been pushing this very thought down for weeks. “You want me to be afraid of him, but it’s not like that.”
“Just saying. I don’t trust him.”
Marla piles clothes in an old suitcase of Elise’s. “Tell me what you’re going to do while I’m gone.”
“Nothing much. Eat me some vegan.”
Marla has gotten used to Dani and Gavin spending so much time together, but she still doesn’t like it. She wonders what they could possibly have in common. “Do you think Gavin�
��s depressed?” Marla slaps the suitcase shut and zips around it, but the zipper gets stuck.
“Why—because he doesn’t dance and sing?” Dani grins.
Marla pulls on the zipper. “No, because he has so many food rules.”
“He’s a monk, a delicious monk.”
“I’m serious. I’m worried about him.”
“Don’t smother the guy. You’re not his mom.”
Marla stops Dani with a look. She absolutely was his mom, in a way, back when their mother used to take off. Back when she made Gavin Marla’s responsibility.
“Either way, you do it smart this weekend. Don’t let Liam surprise you,” Dani says, sitting on the suitcase.
“He doesn’t hit me.” The zipper’s not budging.
“He’s a twat, a finger up his ass know-it-all.” Dani bounces, grinning.
If Dani would shut up, Marla could think. Marla feels herself losing control, an almost-sick feeling. She closes her eyes and counts to ten.
“Telling you what to do all the time, making you feel dumb—”
Marla opens her eyes and screams. “Dani, so do you!”
Dani nods, the smile growing on her face. She reaches over to pull the zipper back, and then zips the suitcase shut. “I knew you could stand up for yourself, Marla. I think you really are ready for a fuckfest with your man.”
Liam is here to pick up Marla. Wave hi, embrace. Gavin tries to allow Liam more space in this house where he is nervous, be generous with love for him.
“Gavin, hello.”
Write, MARLA DANI GETTING READY.
Liam gives Gavin a look that says exactly how he feels about Dani. Takes Gavin aside. “… don’t care for … you know … her?”
M. SAID KNOWN FOR YEARS.
“… Dani is older … didn’t … school together.”
Liam’s doing that thing that happens when people forget Gavin’s deaf—have to remind him to slow down. NO, DON’T THINK SO. MAYBE WORK?
Liam flexes his fingers, then squeezes each joint. “I can’t see … working … junkie.”
Gavin shakes his head. SHE SICK. Marla told him that, about Dani’s car accident.
“… own fault, Gavin … Marla shouldn’t … clean up … mess.”
Gavin thinks Liam’s jealous, like Dani might be a lesbian with all the hair-brushing and clothes-trading she and Marla do. GOOD FRIEND.
“Of yours?”
Gavin’s about to say no, which makes him feel guilty. Why shouldn’t she be his friend? Is she dangerous? Unworthy? Surely not. He nods, but his hesitation has given him away.
“There’s something going on with her.” Liam nods to Dani coming down the hall, and Gavin realizes Liam mouthed the words. Clever.
Liam slides a flask out of his coat pocket and offers it to Gavin. “Vodka,” he says. “Gluten free.”
Gavin laughs and takes a pretend hit to be sociable, hands it back.
“Come on, you fucker,” Dani says. “Not gonna offer me any?”
Liam is suddenly wooden. “Dani, I refuse … any more profanity.”
“Just a taste.” She’s looking at Liam with her head turned slightly. Something about her posture is really promoting her breasts.
Liam hands her the flask, wordless, and she downs quite a bit. Looks at him while she exhales a deep breath that softens every part of her.
“… going, Dani,” Marla says, gentle, coming up behind her with a suitcase.
“You two have a nice time.” Dani hands the flask back to Liam, turning her body away from Marla and into his. “Keep your fucking hands off her this weekend,” she says to Liam, sliding her hand around his neck to flip his collar up. She lingers, slipping her fingers down his jawline and leaning in close like she will kiss him.
Liam steps back and into Gavin, his crisply ironed shirt wrinkled at the waist. “What did you say?”
“You heard me.”
Marla pats Dani. “… big girl … leave him …” She and Dani hug, then Marla kisses Gavin on the cheek. “Look after … other,” she says, and then Gavin and Dani are alone.
Dani stares at Gavin, flares her nostrils. He suddenly feels very hungry. “I’m having a bath,” she says, her look trailing over her shoulder like she wants him to come too.
Instead, Gavin lies in bed with the phone book list of C. Parkers, his heart thumping. To distract himself, Gavin looks at the map he and Dani put together on the several afternoons while Marla was at work. Marla didn’t want to be a part of finding Candace, which Gavin thinks is typical Marla. Once he finds his mom, he can go home. Or not.
Gavin imagines Dani in the bath: she is no doubt very elegant as a naked woman, without all her layers of roughness. She has secrets, which he allows her. Sometimes he leans against her kitchen wall downstairs and watches her boil perogies on her little burner, and sometimes the door to the basement is locked all day. He thinks about what it would be like to watch her soap herself, how she might lift her leg high out of the water to run a razor from ankle to thigh. She’s a woman who knows how to love her body.
Gavin rises so he can see the bathroom door from bed. She’s hung her clothes over the crack between the door and the frame (something he hasn’t bothered to fix), blocking the top two-thirds of the view. He waits for her to leave the tub, and when she does he can see her hand reach for something on the floor, then her feet stepping into panties. He lies back in bed, knocking the map to the floor. He clutches his notepad and writes gibberish until she appears in his doorway.
Dani is fully dressed, all bangles and beads. “Come with me.”
Gavin flips the pad closed. He can feel himself sweating. Have to remember to throw that page out later.
“I’ll make you something,” she says, walking her fingers down the doorframe.
Nod yes. Gavin has the feeling this might never happen again if he doesn’t go downstairs with this woman right now.
The fluorescent lights are on, making the whole place less shadowy. She pours a bowl of salsa and a plate of nachos and eats with passion, unafraid to chew in front of him. She offers him the bowl.
Gavin takes a single chip, has a bite. Dips it in the salsa. Salty, but good. ROUGH WORDS WITH LIAM.
“Liam’s a knob. I don’t take him seriously.” Dani takes a plastic tube from her pocket and shakes out several pills. Pops them.
WHAT THAT FOR?
Dani shrugs. “Pain pills. You know.”
Gavin reaches for the tube, resting his hand on hers until she lets him take it. The label says it’s homeopathic, but the pills are much too big for that. YOU TAKE EVERY DAY?
She nods, crossing her arms, but keeping her eyes on his. “Yeah.”
LOT OF PAIN, THEN. He watches her eyes, not wanting her to take it the wrong way. She reads it twice.
“You could say that. Look, it’s not a secret.”
DON’T NEED HIDE FROM ME.
She stands the tube up on its end, her fingers long and strong and sweaty. “I have this problem. I’ve had it for a long time.”
MARLA KNOW?
She nods.
I STILL LIKE YOU.
She smiles at him, flicks the plastic tube over. “Me too. But I don’t like Liam.”
WHY? HE TRYING.
“How can you say that? It’s your sister he’s the worst with.”
WHAT YOU MEAN?
“He hit her.”
For a moment, Gavin is almost unhinged, but he pushes it down. Marla told him that was an accident. Dani must seem like complete chaos to Liam, but Marla is calmer. Pacifist eyes. He doesn’t think Liam would hurt her, but maybe he should check. YOU BATED HIM TODAY.
She pushes the plate away. “He deserved it. He treats me like shit.”
HE DIDN’T SNAP.
“He’s afraid of me.”
YOU LIKE TH
AT. He sneaks a look at her while she’s reading his words, and her eyes meet his. FEELS GOOD FOR YOU.
Dani runs her hand through her hair, pulling it over her shoulder. “How do you know what feels good for me?” She tickles his arm, just gentle. Her touch starts something in him, a sliding sensation like the room is tipping. There is the taste of pennies in his mouth.
He scratches his thighs just to feel something. TELL ME ABOUT YOU.
“I ran away from home when I was fourteen. Stole from my family and went to jail.”
WHY?
Dani doesn’t look away. “I was stupid. Took years of lessons and threw away everything.”
SINGING?
Dani puts his hand on her throat, and he feels sound rise and fall. She breathes from her diaphragm, her eyes on his. It’s beautiful.
Gavin feels something inside him let go, or maybe click together, he’s not sure. What he does know is that Dani is the type of person who really hears him. HELD BACK IN SCHOOL. TOOK YEARS LEARN TO READ.
“Doesn’t mean you’re not smart. What else?”
OUR MOTHER TRIED SUICIDE—O.D. THEY WOULDN’T LET ME COME SEE HER. TOO YOUNG.
“Oh, crap. Marla didn’t tell me any of that shit.” Dani’s face is open and soft like he’s never seen. He doesn’t intend this reaction with his story. Or maybe he does.
WHAT DID M. TELL?
“That you can speak but you don’t.”
EASIER.
“She said you’re a suicider too.”
LONG TIME AGO. Gavin stares at his feet.
She brushes her fingers along his cheek, down his neck. “You seem to be doing okay now.”
He nods, not sure what he’s agreeing with.
“Come here,” Dani says, her eyes melted chocolate, her skin like pastry. When he kisses her, Dani’s lips are cold like stepping outside in winter. She feels smooth and heavy and intoxicating.
In his throat was a lump, but it’s gone now.
Marla sleeps in the car through the foothills and mountains to Banff, soothed by the dark and Liam’s edifying jazz playlist. She awakens at their hotel, a wooden palace; the snow is so much deeper here, so much more like a Christmas card. Elk nose in the snow outside the lobby window, and the banister under her hand is shiny with use. Even the lights make Marla feel beautiful, but something about the air reminds Marla of a different trip to Banff, with another man Liam’s age. A curled lip and a hard, ugly body. But that was ages ago.
A Handbook for Beautiful People Page 10