by M. C. Cerny
“Delivery in twenty minutes.” Jack strides back into the living room and sits down next to me, my skin itching from his proximity. What is wrong with me? my mind screams, but a serene plastic expression covers my face. Jack puts his arm around me, and it takes everything inside me not to push him away. I love Jack and want him to touch me. At the same time, I want to burn every inch of my skin from the memory of Daniel’s hands on me. The things he called me, the things my brain has blocked out from that afternoon…
“I can’t wait. I’m starved.” Leaning into him, I try my best not to freak out. Jack traces a line from my shoulder to my elbow, igniting a shivery spark. I hadn’t felt much of one since Daniel’s attack. If only my brain would shut itself down.
“Me, too,” Jack says, and I know he’s not talking about food. His palm cups my cheek and I close my eyes, breathing deeply. How I could not want this man after all his care and gentleness is beyond me. I want what we had before. I’ll do anything to get that back.
Jack
Edith is still uneasy with me. As much as she masks it, I can tell she’s holding back. I don’t know what kind of misplaced guilt or shame she’s feeling, but if I could kill Daniel Munson and get away with it, I would. My beautiful girl is a mess inside that head of hers, and I’m helpless to assist her in sorting it out. I consider asking her to see a therapist, but I’m afraid she’ll go ballistic on me. One crying fit was all I could handle after the police questioned her and she fell apart. I wanted them to call a doctor to sedate her, but they wanted their fucking statement first. Then I found out the prosecutor didn’t have enough evidence to lock Daniel up forever, and the university could only do so much… Well, I was fucking livid. I forced Edith to file a No Contact order for her protection, but a piece of paper isn’t a guarantee that Danny boy will behave himself. If all I’m going to get from her is placating statements and holding her like this, I’m going to go crazy.
When the doorbell rings, I sigh. “I’ll get it, sweetheart. Stay here.” I ease myself up, hurt that I can feel she’s slightly relieved I’ve let her go. I grab our dinner and bring it into the kitchen, placing everything on a tray to bring in to her. Using my foot, I push the coffee table closer, then put everything down and open up the boxes.
Edith grabs a box and stuffs a piece of chicken in her mouth. “This is really good. I can’t remember the last time I had Chinese food like this.”
“New place just opened up. I thought we could try it.” I shrug and figure this is my in. “Speaking of new things…”
Edith looks up at me in mid-bite of a baby corn, her lips wrapping around and snapping it off in a clean bite. It’s seductive. She licks the juice from her lips and slowly chews. “Okay… New is good.”
“I think we should go to Miami for Christmas. Get out of town and spend time away from…” I wave my hand around, “all of this.” I watch Edith put her carton of food down and lick her lips.
“Away could be good… Like you said, a change.” Edith leans in and kisses me on my cheek. Her lips are cool, but I don’t know if it’s forced or real. I’m pissed, but I don’t know how to ask her because it’s not her I’m mad at.
“We can spend time on the beach, shop, do whatever you want.” I cup her cheek and kiss her. She goes along with it, but doesn’t open her mouth to me, so I don’t push her further.
She peppers tiny kisses all over my face, giving me hope. “Okay. Yes, let’s go. You can’t take away my flip flops in Florida.” Edith runs her hands through my hair and I smile. It’s the first cheeky thing my girl has said since this whole nightmare began.
Chapter Twelve
Edith
We’re going to Miami? What the hell did I just agree to? After dinner and watching a movie, I pretend to fall asleep on the couch. Yes, I was using every avoidance tactic possible. I wanted Jack, but I was afraid of how my body would react. The idea was taking hold in my brain so much, it made me sick, so I took the coward’s way out. I let my eyes slip closed and my breathing relax as Jack plays with my hair, letting my curls gently wrap around his fingers. The movie credits roll and he lifts me in his arms, tenderly placing me in our bed. He covers me with a blanket, then slips in behind me, his hot skin against my comfy house clothes.
When Jack settles into sleep and eventually rolls away from me, I let the damn tears fall until I, too, fall into a fitful sleep. There was something about him turning away from me in our bed that makes the emotional distance that much greater.
***
Jack must have gone into his office this morning because I woke alone. It was rare that he left me. All I saw was a note on the nightstand and a credit card propped up by the alarm. Reaching over the clock, which reads 8:47am, I grab the note.
Edith… Babe!! Take this plastic and spend like crazy. That’s an order! I called Shelby and she’s taking you out. She’ll be here around 10. Alarm is set for 9:20, just in case you don’t wake up by then. xoxo Love you - J
Ever thoughtful, he even tells me when the alarm will go off. Rolling my eyes, I roll back over on the bed, my body protesting the movement. My head is pounding with a massive headache. I contemplate what over-the-counter drugs we have that would be strong enough to combat it, but come up empty. Groaning, I lean over again and turn the alarm off, then pad to the bathroom to step under the hot spray of water. However, not even the shower clears the cobwebs as I turn off the water and step out, then stand naked in front of the floor-length mirror, water dripping down my body. There’s nary a mark left from the encounter with Daniel. No scars, no bruising, nothing to disfigure me in any way. I wish the same could be said about my mental state.
When Jack had insisted I go and get checked out, a rape crisis counselor came to my hospital room and talked to me about the things I could expect to feel afterwards. She handed me a packet of information and her card, telling me I could call her at any time. That was bullshit. I wasn’t a victim. Daniel didn’t rape me, but he fucked with my head, making me think he would violate me. When you wake from a nightmare in a cold sweat, how do you explain that to someone?
A sick part of me wishes there was a mark on my body, something real I could blame all this aching and misery on. I look back at the shower and see the razor inside. For a split second, I actually contemplate doing something, anything to feel. That’s when another dam inside me bursts.
Choking cries send me sliding to the cold tile floor. Gasping for air, I place my head between my knees. There’s something seriously wrong with me if I’m thinking about opening my flesh to see if there’s a real person left. It’s absolutely crazy. I stifle the tears and take shuddering breaths, attempting to calm myself. Hold it in. Let it go, the mantra repeats. Maybe I should call that rape crisis counselor, the one who looked barely older than me, but I wonder what she could possibly say that would help me make sense of it all. I put an arm out to touch the frigid marble tiles of the wall, my fingers stubbing on the rough grout surface.
As I’m sitting there, wiping the tears from my face, I look into the bedroom. The clock says 9:19, and I watch the digital display change to 9:20. Sniffling, I force myself to stand up and slowly walk to the closet. Clothes… I need some clothes and have to fix my hair. Opening the closet doors, I see another note on my side of the closet which, according to Jack, is too sparse compared to all his ties, suit jackets, and dress shirts hanging neatly. I run my palm over the dozens of hangers. The clothes smell like Jack and my heart squeezes, thinking of him. I grab the note.
Babe! No flip flops until Florida... Seriously. It’s, like, 20 degrees today. xoxo – J
In place of my flip flops, which seem to have been commandeered, he’s left out a brand new pair of black UGG boots, which must have come in the mail from Amazon or something. Not even my well-worn converse can be found. I didn’t order the boots, but I love them because he did, even if I find him overbearing sometimes. I finger the brand new tag and see he’s blacked out the price. He knows I’ll freak about how much he’s spending o
n me. I grab a pair of leggings, a top, and one of Jack’s wool pea-coats, along with a scarf that smells like him. I dress, then head downstairs just in time to see Shelby on the porch, ringing the doorbell.
Opening the door, my best and only girlfriend pushes her way through. “Rough night, Edie?” Shelby hugs me tight and for a second too long. The open door makes me shiver and she pulls back to shut it, locking us inside. I guess Jack has schooled everyone on my new fear of open doors.
“Same as ever.” I shrug and motion her to follow me in. We walk into the kitchen and I find various breakfast items left out on the counter…bananas, cereal, coffee already brewing…
“Aww, Edie. He loves you. What happened scared the shit out of him.” As she looks around the kitchen, she turns to me, gently grabbing my hand. “Scared the shit out of Aiden and me, too.”
“Shell, it’s too much. I just… You know me. I just can’t.” Sullen, I sit on the stool, letting her pour us cups of coffee.
“Edie, I don’t think Jack knows any other way to be. I mean, he bought you the car to keep you safe, but also so you could come and go as you please.” Looking over my shoulder and out the window, I see my pretty little red car shining in the driveway. It’s sensible and perfect and so…Jack.
“I get that,” I grumble as she pushes the cup to me.
“Explain it to me, Edie. All I know is art. It’s like the color has been sucked out of you. I know you don’t really want to talk about it and I don’t want to force you, but I can see the change. It’s like life has left my best friend.” Shelby takes a sip of her coffee. “You’ve always been our sarcastic, serious Edith, but now… We don’t even know what we can or can’t say to you and it’s been weeks since that night.”
“Shell, I just don’t have the words to describe it. It’s like a switch flipped in my brain. Rationally, I know Daniel… Yes, I can say his name and not cringe. I know he didn’t rape me. Hell, he didn’t even come close, but something about his demeanor and the things he said just killed a part of me. I don’t even think I remember everything he said, it was so chaotic in the moment, but the dreams at night…” Shuddering, I try to shake it off, but I can’t. I want to feel alive, but I don’t. I want to breathe fresh air, but it smoothers me. Bad days outnumber good, and I can’t communicate what the fuck I’m feeling with the people most important to me.
“Look, have you considered maybe…” Shelby trails off. I wonder if she’s going to sugarcoat shit like everyone else.
“What?” I snap. What I just told her is probably the most I’ve said about the whole incident. Jack doesn’t probe, and Aiden tiptoes around me. I’m not a piece of fucking glass, yet I’m shattered.
Shelby puts her coffee down and does what she does best…rambling and braiding my hair. “Counseling. Just meet with someone, talk it out. I don’t mean at the Rape Crisis Center, but maybe someone privately.” I take a deep breath and consider her words. No… Yes… It’s all I’ve thought about and raged against.
“I’m not them, Shelby. I won’t ever be them.” She knows I’m talking about my crazed parents who neglected me with their crazy ass lifestyle and piss poor parenting skills. Child protective services should have been called before I was even conceived. I want to be stronger than that. I’ve got one more semester, then I can forget all of this. If I can just squash this memory, force it down, cut it out, whatever it takes, I can finally walk across that stage and get my fucking diploma that nobody thought I would ever achieve. “Please, don’t bring this up to Jack. If he got this idea in his head, he’d run with it and I would never get any peace.” I shake my head, as she ties off a long braid of my hair.
“Anything, love. Hey, we’ve got bikinis to buy for Miami.” She suddenly perks up, eyes twinkling. Then, just like that, she’s bundling me up and we’re heading out the door.
Jack
I sit down at my desk and go through the pile of paperwork that’s been sitting, waiting for me. I look at my watch and wonder how Edith is doing. Shelby should be with her by now. Maybe my foolish plan won’t backfire on me. The last few days, I’ve been calling both Aiden and Shelby, trying to get some ideas on how to get Edith to perk up out of her mood. I know life was pretty tough for her before we got together, but it seems like a darkness has spread over her that she can’t shake and I can’t penetrate.
I’m going to call it like I see it. My girl, my precious girl, is spiraling downward. If she’s not jumping at shadows in the house and avoiding me, she’s withdrawing from her friends and going down a dark road. I am so desperate, I called an ex-girlfriend I briefly dated in undergrad. Fleur is a psychologist with a private practice now, and I figure since we’re on platonic terms, I needed some advice. I feel conflicted about going behind Edith’s back to talk about our situation with someone who is a stranger to her, but I feel helpless.
Over the phone, her preliminary diagnosis is Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. PTSD? The shit veterans come home from war with? I don’t know a lot about living with someone who may have it, but I can only listen to Edith cry herself to sleep for so long before I lose my mind. Fleur agreed to meet with her. Now I just have to plant the seed and get her to think it’s her idea or there’s no way in hell she’ll go. That’s why I’ve enlisted Aiden’s and Shelby’s help.
It’s the most underhanded thing I’ve done, but I only want to help Edith.
The first thing I want to do is take that trip to Miami for a change of scenery so Edith can have time away with those of us who love her most. She doesn’t know it, but I’ve invited Aiden and Shelby to come along. I’m too much of a chickenshit to do this all on my own, and Fleur agrees I need to take baby steps with Edith.
Interrupting my musings, my phone beeps with a text.
Shelby: Dr. Crackerjacks is a no-go. A NO-GO. Repeat… DO NOT ASK AGAIN.
It’s nice to know Shelby will never lose her subtlety.
Thanks. Make her buy two of something red and sparkly.
Shelby: Rodger, boss. Mission Glam and Glitz in progress. Over and out.
I shake my head, grateful my girl has the best of friends. I just hope to God we can pull her out of this before it’s too late.
Edith
“Shell, who are you texting?”
Shelby’s been distracted since we left the house and she’s made me drive. Not that I wouldn’t have, but I wasn’t really feeling like it until she pushed me into the car. I pull my red Prius out of our residential development and into traffic, heading towards the mall…a place I dread because of the crowds and pre-holiday insanity. We’ll be lucky to find a parking space and to keep my raging temper in check. At least driving is something I can do that doesn’t leave me freaking out on the floor.
“Your boyfriend. He wants you to buy two of everything.” She smiles at me and puts her phone away. Shelby is lying, not about buying two of everything, because that’s totally Jack, but whatever. I’d rather not deal with anything else today.
Rolling my eyes, I say, “Okay. So where are we headed first?”
“Let’s check out those outlets on Route One. They have a ton of stores we can hit all at once.” Shelby practically vibrates with excitement. Great. I was hoping for a one-stop shopping experience, but she’s determined to drag me all over the place.
“Fine.”
I drive as we listen to music, then pull into the crowded parking lot, slipping into a parking spot before my angst has me turning the car right back around again.
“Breathe, Edie. We’ll get through this,” Shelby reminds me. I know we will, but I just hate crowds.
We manage to shop for a few hours without incident, then eat lunch inside one of the kitschy restaurants.
“I’m pretty sure we have everything on the list, right?” I pop a french fry into my mouth.
“Pretty dresses, sexy underwear, three bikinis, shoes, floppy hat… Yeah, I think we did pretty good.” She nods. I keep waiting for Jack’s card to get rejected for hitting the limit, but that never happen
s.
“Well, I’m exhausted.” I’m also feeling on edge and eager to get back to my safe cocoon of neutral walls and Pottery Barn accessories. It’s as if my energy level understands when I’m on empty.
I con Shelby into driving my car home by telling her she can control the radio. It’s a small concession so I don’t have to think about dodging cars back to the house. We carry the bags inside and, after hugs, Shelby leaves me to my own devices. Trudging upstairs, I try to push down the mental fears.
***
“Edie, I’m home!” I hear Jack calling, then I hear his footsteps padding up the stairs and into our bedroom. “How was shopping?” Ah, the quintessential male inquiry.
“Expensive,” I tell him, sitting in the middle of the bed amongst the bags and articles of clothing. Jack laughs, undaunted by the mess on the bed.