by Annette Fix
Her daughters, now with families of their own, moved between the hot stove and the dining area, setting the long table, and tending to their spouses and gurgling babies.
Josh sat on the carpet and set up a block tower with three-year-old, Shay. “Is she my niece or am I her nephew?” he asked.
“You're her uncle,” Tina, Sandi's eldest daughter said.
“I can't believe I'm an uncle three times already.” Josh watched the two babies crawl across the carpet.
I sat quietly and soaked it all in. I wanted this. Kevin and I could've had this.
We sat down as a family to a hand-passed parade of All-American tastes. The conversation buzzed around me like the hum of a favorite song. I felt so close to everyone and yet so far away.
The tangible love in the room left me feeling more alone than ever.
envy pie
Crust:
1 box pre-made pale green covetous dough
Filling:
3 cups pre-soured craving berries
1 cup pre-sifted jealousy
2 tbsp. pre-softened longing
Mix jealousy and longing by hand until thick, hard lump forms in your throat. Slowly crush craving berries into mound of narcissistic pulp.
Roll pastry dough until emotionally flat, press firmly into pan pre-greased with unfulfilled dreams. Pinch edges.
Dump filling like a rejected girlfriend into unprepared crust.
Burn at an insanely high temperature. Prick center with something sharp to determine level of lingering hunger.
Serve alone.
Yield: Intense yearning.
Unlimited servings.
Nutritional Value: None.
Guaranteed 2 lb. weight loss.
five hours in purgatory
Monday, November 26
“I'm coming by to pick up the last of my clothes, the golf pictures in the living room, and a few things from the garage. Are you going to be around?”
Absently, I wrapped the phone cord around my index finger until it turned magenta. I hadn't seen him in over a month. “I'll be here,” I said quietly as my stomach twisted and bucked.
“I was hoping maybe you could be somewhere else while I'm there. It would be easier for me,” Kevin said.
Fuck easier. What part of this is supposed to be easy for me?
I should have said it, but “Okay” came out of my mouth instead. I think I meant: “Okay, I understand it will be easier for you.” But it really didn't matter because I had no intention of going anywhere. I hoped that maybe if Kevin saw me again, he'd change his mind.
“I'll be leaving here in about ten minutes,” he said before hanging up.
As soon as the handset hit the cradle, I ran to the closet and scanned the racks. I wanted to look good, but didn't want to look like I was trying too hard. That would be too humiliating.
I changed outfits five times, finally deciding on something that was simple and casual. I surveyed my reflection in the mirror: a pair of relaxed-fit Calvin Klein jeans that showed I'd already lost fifteen pounds in a month, and a powder blue T-shirt that hugged my petite, braless curves. No shoes, just barefoot. I fluffed my hair, brushed my teeth, tinted my lashes with mascara, and dabbed a light coat of clear gloss on my lips.
Perfect.
Outside, I looked pulled together and in control. Inside, I was an emotional train wreck.
I padded down the hall to the homeschool zone. The third bedroom that we originally intended as a guest room was easy to set up with a computer desk, overstuffed reading chair, and a row of bookcases. I gave Josh free rein to decorate the walls with his skateboard posters.
With his back to me, I saw Josh engrossed in playing a game of Myst on the computer. “Done with your homework yet?” I asked.
He jumped like he'd been shocked with a cattle prod. “Geez Mom! You scared the crap outta me!”
“Guilty conscience?”
“No, I finished. See all this that I did.” He handed his essay and two worksheets to me. “I did the Aleks math program too. You can check the hours log online if you don't believe me.”
“I'll take a look at it later. I just wanted to tell you Kevin is coming by to pick up some of his things.”
I saw Josh's lips pull together in a taunt line. His eyes narrowed slightly. “I don't want to see him. He left and he made you cry.” His whole body quivered with tension. “I hate him.”
I had no idea what to say to Josh's outburst, so I stepped beside his chair and stroked the top of his head. He leaned against my abdomen and I held him quietly for a moment. I couldn't tell him his feelings were wrong, but I wouldn't fuel them either.
“You don't have to be here, if you don't want to,” I said softly.
Josh stood up from the chair. “I'm gonna ride my bike to Carl's Jr. and get a burger,” his voice cracked slightly, “then wait for Adam at the bus stop.” He grabbed his jacket off the chair and left the room. “Call me at Adam's when he's gone.”
I wandered back into my room and flopped across the bed to wait. It would take Kevin at least an hour to drive down from Los Angeles. I opened a book and tried to pass the time by reading, but the words blurred across the page. The time passed with me staring at the binding between the same two pages, feeling sick to my stomach and wondering what it would be like to see him again.
When I heard the front door open and Kevin call up the stairs, my body flushed hotly, making my hands shake when I closed the book. Kevin came around the corner of the landing and stepped into the bedroom doorway.
Seeing him crushed my heart and my lungs felt too tight to breathe. I walked over and looked up into his clear blue eyes. In a passing thought: I wondered if he'd say anything about my short hair.
“Hi.” The word escaped my lips in a breathy whisper.
Wordlessly, Kevin wrapped me into a hug. Pressed up against him, I could feel the length and warmth of his body through his clothes. The familiar feeling, the shape of his back in my hands, was bittersweet. I buried my face into his shirt and inhaled his scent.
So many memories, so many possibilities—I couldn't let go.
We sank to our knees on the floor. Minutes passed and the tears flowed between us.
“I am so sorry.” He touched my damp cheeks with his fingertips. “I never meant to hurt you.”
“Kevin, I love you so much, please don't do this.” Sobs choked my plea into choppy gulps.
His apologies ran unchecked. “I tried. I did. I tried, but I can't anymore. I'm so sorry, please don't hate me. It's so hard for me to do this, it's killing me.” His eyes begged me to understand.
“Then why?” I looked into his eyes while teardrops printed exclamation points on my T-shirt.
He rose from the floor and scrubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. “This is why I didn't want you to be here. I knew this would happen.”
Kevin walked into the closet and began gathering his polo shirts from the hangers. I stepped beside him, lifting several from the dowel.
“Don't help, Annette. I can't handle that. You don't need to help me pack.” He paused with an armload of clothing and looked into my eyes. “Just stop.”
Kevin walked out of the room and down the stairs to his truck.
I sat on the vanity counter with a pile of his shirts across my lap and waited for him to return.
There had to be a way to make him stay.
Kevin came in and reached to take the mound of shirts. I placed one hand atop the pile to stay his motion.
“Tell me why. Tell me why I'm not the one.”
I had to know.
“Don't make me do this.” His eyes filled with tears and he shook his head.
Sobs tore at my throat. “It's me. Isn't it? Something about me isn't good enough. Just admit it.”
“No, Annette. I won't say that.”
“Then tell me what it is!” I pushed against his chest.
Kevin gathered my arms together and pulled me close. I could feel the weave of his shirt abs
orbing my tears.
“Just let go,” he whispered.
“I can't. It's been two years. You can't expect me to just go on like we never made plans for a future together. You said I saved you after your divorce. You said you wanted to spend the rest of your life with me…”
He was close. Close enough to kiss. The tip of my tongue slid out to wet my lips. Just once more. I wanted so much to taste his kisses and feel him want me.
“Things changed.” Kevin pulled away and straightened his shirt. “Can't we just leave it at that?”
“Are you saying you don't love me anymore?” Kevin's sweet face swam in my blurred vision.
“I'm saying I had to start pulling away and turning off my feelings for you. Too many things weren't working.”
“I don't understand. What wasn't working?” My mind scrambled to make sense of his reason.
“I can't give you and Josh what you need right now. I need to focus on my golf if I ever expect to make it on tour. And you need to focus on your writing so you can get out of that club.”
I took a brave shot at levity. “Maybe it will work out for us in the future… sometime down the road…when we're both rich and famous.” I tried to smile through my tears.
My comment released him from our emotional tug o’ war. “Maybe it's serendipity,” he said.
A raspy laugh clawed at my chest. That wasn't a typical guy thing to say.
I reached out to touch him intimately. “We could just have sex.”
Kevin moved away from my hands. “You know we can't do that.” He took another step back. “Because it would never be just sex.”
There wasn't anything left to say, and there was nothing I could do to make him stay. My heart begged him not to go and promised I'd do anything just to be with him, but no sound crossed my lips.
Kevin collected his pile of shirts and left the room.
I couldn't bear to sit in our room alone, not as long as he was still in the house. I followed him downstairs to wait while he packed. I sat on the stairs and studied his every detail, touching him with my eyes on each pass he made through the door.
The November air chilled my bare feet numb. Huddled on the stair step, my body shivered uncontrollably. I moved to the marble hearth of the fireplace and sat holding a fistful of tissues. They disintegrated in my hands as I watched him carry away box after box of his stuff. I held back the sobs, but the tears flowed freely.
When the truck was full, Kevin readied to leave. I cast my eyes to the floor, studying the pale nubs of the carpet. My hair swung forward to hide my face. I couldn't watch him walk out the door for the last time.
Kevin kneeled beside me. The hiss of heat from the gas fireplace wasn't warm enough to reach the chill in the marrow of my bones. “Hey,” he said, ducking to look at my tear-swollen eyes. “I just want to say one last thing.”
I felt my heart breaking from the weight of sorrow pressing against my chest. I couldn't look into his eyes.
“I want you to know that I'm still going to pay half the rent until the lease is up. And whether you believe me or not, I will always cherish the time we spent together. You will always be special to me, and I will always love you.”
My throat knotted tightly, I didn't respond.
I couldn't.
Kevin rose to his feet and walked away. Then I heard the door click softly behind him.
pine box or bust
Wednesday, December 5
I looked at the digital clock in the dashboard: 3:00 a.m.
The club was busy tonight. I was tired. Exhausted. It seemed to take forever to count up the ones and divide the money to pay out the house, the DJ, and the bouncers. Even the seven-mile trip home seemed to take longer than usual. The only part of the drive I remembered was waking up at a stoplight. I had no idea how many changing light cycles I'd slept through. I put the windows down, hoping the cold air would keep me awake the rest of the way home.
When I pulled into the garage, I thumbed the remote to close the roll-up door and laid my head back against the headrest. So tired. I didn't have the energy to move. I just wanted to rest a few minutes before going inside.
The carbon monoxide pumped into the chilly, cement garage, displacing the air. My eyelids felt heavy. My body slowly sank into the soft embrace of the bucket seat while the car engine continued to idle. Silence, like cotton, padded my thoughts, making them thick and slow.
It seemed like such a wonderful way to rest. The seat held me like a cradle. It would be easy to sleep, so quietly, so much peace…
But my screaming obligations shook me awake while my mind played out disjointed thoughts about the horrible consequences if I continued to let the engine run.
I wouldn't want Josh to find me.
Not like that.
Blue-faced with my tongue hanging out and my cute jeans full of feces pieces.
Responsibility was the only thing that always kept me going. Josh couldn't raise himself. If I'd ever made a commitment to anyone, it was to him. When he was only a few hours old, I promised that I would always be there for him. He had become the only constant in my life and I couldn't leave him alone.
If I died, Kevin would probably think I did it because he left. But it wouldn't be the truth. As far back as I could remember, the same darkness came for me every winter and made me feel tired all the time.
I switched off the engine and pulled the key from the ignition. The nail on my index finger caught in the key ring, tore to the quick, and snapped off.
“Damn!” I plunged my sore finger into my mouth.
I stumbled out of the car and pressed the garage door opener to release the gases into the night.
Silently, I padded upstairs in the stillness of the house and fell across our empty bed, still dressed in my clothes. Slumber came quickly and my near fatal mistake faded into a sea of foggy dreams.
teen birthday with a titty surprise
Wednesday, December 12
I think the tradition started with Josh's first birthday when I bought a Baskin Robbins roll cake with chocolate chip ice cream inside. He'd had one every year since.
I stepped out of the ice cream parlor and balanced cake number thirteen, while I juggled the keys to open the car door.
The seat? Or the floor?
Even after so many years, I never managed to get the cake all the way home without it rolling against the side of the box and messing up the frosting.
Josh was out front riding bikes with Adam and two other neighborhood boys when I arrived.
“Is that my cake? Can we have it now?” Josh laid his BMX bike on its side and reached out to take the box.
“Paws off. No cake until after dinner,” I said, lifting it away from him. I felt the cake roll and bump against the side.
I left the boys to jump curbs and a homemade wooden ramp on the little street in front of the identical Crackerjack-boxes in our quiet, gated community.
After I stowed the cake in the freezer, I started dinner. Josh's favorite: Mexican lasagna—a 9x13 casserole, double-layered with white corn tortillas, tomatillo sauce, refried black beans, cooked brown rice, stewed tomatoes, diced green chilies, black olives, and jack cheese. I preheated the oven to 350 degrees and set the timer for forty minutes.
I'd have just enough time to get ready for work, eat dinner and cake with the boys, and go.
I took another lap around the club and scoped out the prospects for my next private dance campaign. December was always a busy month, no matter what night of the week. Husbands would tell their wives they were going out Christmas shopping, then spend thirty minutes in the mall and three hours at the local strip club.
I checked the time on my cell phone and decided to call Josh before it got too much later. It was too noisy out on the floor, so I wandered into the back dressing room.
“Hey Wonderboy, I'm just calling to say goodnight and make sure you brushed your teeth.” I dug a mint out of the Altoids tin in my moneybox and popped it into my mouth.
“Not yet. I'm having another piece of my cake and watching Dogma, but it's almost over. Is work good?”
“I'm really busy, it's slammed tonight. I can barely keep up with all the drink orders.”
One of the dancers touching up her makeup turned to me and raised her eyebrows.
The curtain into the dressing room parted as Brandy pawed her way through it, her thin, bleached hair disheveled by the heavy velvet folds.
“Fuckin’ clumsy sonofabitch!” She staggered and almost fell. “He tried to grab my tit and spilled his whole fuckin’ beer on me.” She stopped in the middle of the room to use the wadded dress in her hand to wipe the wetness from the large tattoo on her stomach.
I motioned with my hand for her to keep her voice down and pointed to the phone pressed against my ear.
Brandy scowled at me and reached out to steady herself with the edge of the makeup counter. She missed and stumbled into me, directing her crimson mouth less than six inches from my phone. “We're all fuckin’ strippers, nobody's fuckin’ quiet. It's a strip club. Fuckin’ deal with it.”
I backed her into the wall of lockers and held the cell phone against my bare abdomen. “Shut up,” I hissed in an angry whisper, “It's my son.” I glared at Brandy and walked away.
I stepped into a bathroom stall, closed the door behind me, and lifted the phone to my ear. “Hey Wonderboy, you still there?”
“What was that all about?” he asked, a sharp edge to his voice.
“Just some girl. She's drunk.”
“I guess so.”
There was an awkward silence.
“Well, I have to get back to work. Don't stay up too late. I love you,” I said, struggling to sound as if nothing had happened.