The Light in the Wound

by Christine Brae

  It had been two weeks since my mother was confined to the ICU and then transferred back to the hospital basement. Alicia and I visited her in the early evenings. She was listless, tired and always asleep. The doctors said that she would have to be transferred to a rehabilitation facility on the outskirts of the city. Mr. Glass had moved out by then, and I was worried about the financing for her treatment. I had access to the household checking account, but my mother was basically living off her allowance from her parents. Mr. Glass had not contributed a single cent to the maintenance of the house while he lived there with my mother, his mistress.

  One evening I asked Bernard to drive me over to the big house. My grandparents were back for a brief stay before going back to Canada to manage their business. As we drove up the expansive white driveway, all my memories of the house came flooding back to me. The house had always felt foreign to me but more so now, given the reason for my visit. I had to make an appointment to see them. Their secretary tried to squeeze me in immediately, but I insisted on finding a time that was most suitable for them. I sat at the entrance of the home, on the marble steps surrounded by the koi pond. I dipped my finger in the water and one of the bigger orange fish swam up to suck on it. I laughed and pulled my finger back and repeated it a few times. For a few minutes, I was lost in reminiscent thoughts about this home, the many parties I had witnessed over the years and the opulence that accompanied such a lonely existence.

  The door opened and I was ushered in by one of their servants. “Ma’am Isabel, your grandparents are waiting for you in the library.”

  I walked up the winding staircase to the glass doors that led into the library. I felt so small. I had regressed into my adolescence and was about to get reprimanded for running away two years ago.

  “Grandma, Grandpa.” I slowly walked over to them and kissed them on both cheeks.

  “Isabel. You are looking well. How have you been?”

  I was about to answer when my grandfather interrupted, “Isabel, what you did to us two years ago was unacceptable. You ruined your future, your potential to get a good education and your chance of getting away from this mess here.”

  “I’m sorry, Grandpa, but I couldn’t live there by myself anymore. That place just wasn’t for me. I’m better here, I’m doing really well in school.” Classic Isabel. Nervous rambling.

  “So, tell us about your mother,” he interrupted, trying to change the subject. And I did. I told them about how she had been doing better focusing on Gracie and Chelsea and her dress shop. That Mr. Glass really caused her to have a relapse.

  We talked for about forty-five minutes, and I felt the tension leave the room. We spoke casually now, my grandmother was telling me about seeing Chris at Holt Renfrew the month before and that she was engaged. Chris was my best friend at the boarding school. We were like two misfits whose differences fused us together so perfectly. I made a note to myself to call Chris one of these days.

  “So, Isabel, here’s what we are going to do. Call the office tomorrow and have them write two checks — one to the hospital and one to your mother’s account. On a monthly basis, your grandmother and I will pay for your tuition, as well as your clothing allowance. Tell them I will swing by the office tomorrow to sign them. I want you to make sure you add finance classes to your major, so you can help me run the business once you graduate.”

  “Thank you, Grandpa.”

  “Isabel, your cousins tell me you are seriously involved with a boy?” My grandmother interjected as she leaned back into her seat.

  I blushed, embarrassed. “I’ve been seeing Jesse Cain for almost three years.”

  “Cain? Which Cain family? Do we know them?”

  “Jesse’s father was a General in the military, Grandma.”

  “Generals don’t make money. That’s why I don’t know the family. Nevertheless, have him come over soon so we can meet him.”

  That night, Jesse stopped by on his way to attend an offsite Council meeting. I told him all about my visit to my grandparents. He was happy to know that I had made peace with them and ecstatic to hear that they wanted to meet him. I wasn’t going to be in a hurry for that to happen, though. Jesse was already stressed out enough about our lifestyle difference. He had to sell his car to pay for his tuition and took the bus everywhere he went. He refused my offers to have Bernard drive him around. He wouldn’t even get into my car once when I offered to take him home from school. I thought it was so romantic when we would walk hand in hand to his house from school with Bernard following behind us. He also took me on dates on the bus even if I had a car at my disposal. Jesse was just that stubborn when trying to prove a point. And in a way, this was one of the things that I loved about him.

  “Bernard is waiting in the parking lot. Let’s go to your house to pick up your stuff, and I can drop you off at your meeting before heading home,” I offered Jesse one afternoon when he met me after class.

  He took my hand as we continued to walk. “No, that’s okay. I’m going to walk home and then take the bus to the meeting.”

  “That’s kinda stupid. Why do that when we have a car?”

  “You have a car. Not me. I’m used to this. I don’t want you giving me rides everywhere I go.”

  “Why? It gives us time to spend together, even if just a few minutes in the car.” I wasn’t going to give this up too easily. Jesse was being unreasonable.

  “No, Issy, please. I’m not going to discuss this. Let me take you to Bernard. I’ll call you as soon as I’m home from my meeting. It’s at Ryan’s house, not far from here.”

  “Can I come with you?” I persisted. I’d gone that far. How much further could I push?

  He shook his head but a smile on his face indicated that he just might give in.

  “Are you sure you want to take the bus with me?”

  “Anything and anywhere with you, Jess. It’ll be fun to take the bus with you. Bernard is under strict orders not to let me venture out on my own, but I’ll have him go ahead and meet us at Ryan’s.” This did not make sense at all logistically, but Jesse was going to get his way and there was no convincing him otherwise.

  “Perfect.”

  Minutes later as we boarded a public bus to take us over to Ryan’s house, Jesse stared at me, as I stood pressed between him and a stranger in an overcrowded bus. He protectively grabbed my wrist and covered it with his hand. “Issy, did you have to wear that watch today? Next time we take the bus together, you can’t be wearing any expensive jewelry, okay?” he whispered distractedly, but his eyes felt warm and he looked entertained by me. I nodded my head obediently as we rode the rest of the way in silence. My first ride on a public bus with the boy I was willing to give everything up for.

  Once during our freshman year, Jesse called and asked me to meet him on the baseball field late one evening after school. I automatically assumed that he wanted me to watch him practice, something I would often do when I didn’t have much homework to finish. As I walked across the newly shaved grass, I wondered where he could be. It worried me a bit to see no one there. The grounds were dark, except for a faded lamppost illuminating the walkways. The night was hot and humid, so I dressed in shorts for the occasion, fully expecting to be sitting on a bench watching Jesse play. He popped out of nowhere, just as I was about to walk up the steps toward the stands.

  “Hi,” I said, as I looked around the field. “Am I late? Did I get the practice time wrong?”

  “Nope,” he answered with a grin. “Practice ended an hour ago.”

  “Oh. Am I here to pick you up?” I asked, still confused.

  “I thought we’d play on the field for a bit,” he said, as he took my hand and led me further in toward the bases. He had his pitching glove on and carried a bat in his right hand.

  “Play what, Jess? You know I don’t know anything about this game!” I laughed incredulously.

  “Yes, you do! You’ve been watching me do this for almost three years! I thought it would be fun to watch you swing
a bat,” he coaxed. “Come on, you’ll do great, I promise. Here, wear these so you don’t hurt your hands.”

  He fished into his pockets and handed me some batting gloves. I wiggled my fingers to make sure they were still in there. They were twice the size of my hand. He looked delighted and enamored with me all at the same time.

  “You look so cute. Come here,” he ordered as he pulled me in for a hug. Seconds later, he handed me the bat and then walked backwards until he was a few feet away from me.

  “This is heavy!” I said, as I lifted the bat and mockingly took on the stance — both knees bent, two hands on the bat.

  “Issy baby, you’re gonna fall over if you lean like that.” He laughed. “This isn’t tennis. Keep one foot in front of you and turn your body to face me. Now just relax and swing when I pitch, okay?”

  “Like this?” I breathed, as I stuck my leg out and swiveled my hips.

  “If you keep that up, we’ll be swinging something else,” he teased.

  Five empty swings later, I finally hit the ball. It didn’t go very far, but I whooped and he whooped and I ran twice around the bases. It didn’t take much effort for him to pursue me as soon as he caught the ball. I hit the ball two more times until he chased me down and lifted me off the ground.

  “Jess!” I panted, as he swooped me in his arms. “That was hard work! What do I get for doing this?” I flirted.

  “Me,” he responded, as I wrapped my arms and legs around him.

  “I’ll take that,” I whispered, and with a tender kiss, I gave him permission to carry me back to the dugout.

  “Life is either a daring adventure or nothing.”

  —Helen Keller

  Sophomore year was upon us. I was spending more and more time alone, as Jesse’s time was consumed by baseball practices, baseball games and extracurricular activities. He was voted in as the University’s Sports Council President and there was an entourage of people that followed his every move. I was happy to remain in the background. I knew that he saw me every chance he got, regardless of how rare those times were. He did call me every evening and we would talk about our day. Betty would see me as often as she could, too, but we both accepted the fact that her time with Leigh was a priority. Carter and Alicia were getting ready to have their second baby, and Carter’s family had purchased an apartment for them to move into. Evie was still seriously into Seth and they were making plans to get married after graduation.

  My mother was now out of rehab and dating a doctor that she met while confined in the hospital. His name was Lance and he was an older gentleman with grown kids. He was kind to her and available at her beck and call. He came over to visit every evening and before we knew it, he had moved into our house. He cooked for her, took her dancing, worked hard and was smitten by her. But he was quiet and shy and her personality always overpowered his. She seemed happy, so who were we to question it? She insisted on marrying him, complete with a wedding dress and all. Evie, Alicia and I would share many laughs over this.

  “She’s crazy. It looks so stupid! Why is she making a fool of herself?”

  And yet, there we were. Watching her walk down the aisle to meet him in front of his best man and a priest.

  Jesse’s university connections helped me to circumvent the twelve-credit hour requirement for enrollment in any sport. I didn’t have to choose any sport. The head of the Sports Committee had marked my course curriculum as completed. I was like royalty, actually. Everywhere I went on campus, people knew I was dating Jesse. By this time I was used to girls coming up to me just to gush about how wonderful he was. I was gracious about their compliments and would tease Jesse about it whenever we were alone together. The passion we had for each other kept me secure in knowing that it was just me for him. At parties I would feel so separated from him, despite the fact that he was holding my hand. His conversations with others would refer to events that I wasn’t there to witness. They would laugh about it — crack up about it — and I would smile until my mouth would cramp up. But right when I would start to feel insecure or doubtful, he would pull me aside and show me how much he loved me. It didn’t matter where we were. There were stolen trysts in the bathroom. At the University’s Student Center late at night. In the stalls of the gym locker room. I lived for those moments, minutes, seconds … I needed to touch his skin to make me feel alive.

  Jesse’s friend, Ryan would silently watch me at these parties and come to my rescue whenever he saw my eyes glazing over. He would crack jokes, make useless conversation, or help me find Jesse whenever I would lose him to a group of people. We became close friends and soon enough, he completed my trio circle with Betty rounding up the other end.

  My Econ classes kicked in during my sophomore year and I looked forward to these classes and the group of people that were in the class with me. James was one of them. James was of Spanish descent, tall and muscular with light curly hair and a prominent nose. He was actually a singer who performed in many plays throughout the city. He distracted me during the boring points of a class lecture by humming the instructor’s words back to me in his low baritone voice. We also did a lot of homework and group assignments together. James was funny, gregarious and I thoroughly enjoyed his company. We spent many hours doing homework together, having lunch, and working on projects.

  One weekend, Jesse took me with him to see a play entitled The Fantasticks. James was playing the lead role of Matt. Jesse knew someone in the cast who took us to a backstage party after the performance. There was a lot of carousing and drinking among the cast, crew and those of us who were invited to attend. The girl who played Luisa was all over Jesse at one point.

  “Jesse! Hey! So nice that you could make it! What’d you think? How’d I do?” She gave him a tight hug and kept her right hand on his shoulder.

  “Oh hey, Monica, you did great! This is my girlfriend, Isabel. Isabel, this is Monica. She’s in some of my Engineering classes.”

  “Hi, it’s very nice to meet you.” My standard line every time I was out with Jesse.

  “Isa!” I turned around to see James.

  “James! Oh my gosh, you were great out there! I had no idea you could dance like that. Now I’ll never look at you the same way.” I was so happy to see him. James wasn’t too smart but he tried very hard, and right then, he was in his element. It was great to see him in another light, outside of school and doing what he loved to do.

  “James, this is my boyfriend, Jesse.” They shook hands, only this time Jesse wasn’t smiling. Oh no.

  “Jesse, man, nice to finally meet you. This girlfriend of yours here, so darn smart, she’s helped me pass two classes in the past year. Not to mention too darn beautiful. You’re a lucky guy.”

  Super oh no.

  Jesse nodded his head, squeezed my hand and then we were out of there.

  On the way back to my house after the party, Jesse was quiet. Too quiet. He looked like he was in deep thought. No, seething. I grabbed his hand and placed it on my thigh.

  “Babe, what’s wrong?”

  “Just tired,” he answered without looking at me.

  I nodded my head and looked out the window. I noticed that Jesse had turned into an unknown corner and shut off the engine. I could barely hear him as he whispered, “How do you know James, Iss?”

  “Seriously? James is my classmate. We have three classes together. What is this about again?”

  “I saw the way he looked at you. It’s like he was waiting to see you all night. The guy has a crush on you. Isa, my ass. Why is he calling you Isa?” His eyes were tight; his tone was deep.

  “Me? What about you, Jesse? Everywhere we go, every time we’re together, there is always some girl gushing over you, talking about your meetings, your classes, your interactions without me.”

  “That’s different, Iss. I’m doing this all for you. I’m trying to do well so that I can give you what you need. I want to be successful for you.”

  I reached for his face and pulled him to me. “No one h
as a crush on anyone, Jess. Except me. I have a crush on you.” I pecked him with light kisses all over his face. His lips were shut. He wasn’t giving in to me at first. I kissed him slowly, opened up his lips with my tongue until I heard a slight groan coming from his mouth. “Please, Jess. I want you, here, now. I love you. Only you.”

  He didn’t make a move. He wanted me to do all the work. Okay, I thought. I’ll show him.

  I leaned over to his seat and kissed his chest, unbuttoned his shirt and kissed his nipple. I trailed my kisses all the way down to his stomach, pulled down his jeans and took him into my mouth. Jesse gasped as he grabbed my hair and pushed my head down further, lifting himself up so that my mouth covered him entirely. I took my time, sucking, licking … holding him with my hand.

  I stopped just in time to remove my underwear and straddled him. His jeans were wrapped around his ankles and the car seat was reclined all the way.

  “Do you like how this feels, Iss? Tell me how you like having me inside you,” he said, as he arched up again, thrusting hard. It almost felt as if he wanted to hurt me.