by Leanne Davis
How could they suddenly be like this? Ally couldn’t fathom it. They were rarely at a loss for words with each other, and annoyed, angry, passionate, horny, frustrated, happy, impressed… or something. They used to share real emotions and interactions. Not like this. They were both so polite and respectful, it was almost to the point of being painful. Like interacting with your boss; no, worse than that: the boss’s spouse or kids. It was too fake, too polite, too nice, and totally unreal. It was so unlike either of them.
Eventually, they had to leave the beach. “We could grab some piz—” Nate started to say but stopped himself, which included his entire body, not just his sentence. The guy walking behind him ran right into him. Glaring, he detoured to the right and kept going on his way. Ally turned to her left to face Nate. This was it. Nate didn’t know what the fuck to do with her now. He didn’t know what to say because he had no idea how to approach the subject of food. He couldn’t even ask her what she wanted to eat for dinner.
She closed her eyelids as she drew in a deep, long breath. This was going to be part of it. The learning to live with it. She had to eat still and with other people around her. Other people had to also learn to watch her eat. Nate would have to learn how to experience her eating without turning every meal into something or some kind of confrontation about her condition. She expected some people might stare at her eating or count how many calories she consumed.
She knew she would have strongly fought the urge to do so if the roles were reversed.
But that was no basis for a romantic relationship. Nate could not be her gatekeeper, her jailor or her warden with food. She had to be in charge of herself.
Nate couldn’t figure out how to act casually about it. He understood finally what a huge ordeal each piece of food or drink was to her. And the reason why, for so many years, she hid it so well that no one could ever guess.
Nate didn’t even know how to ask her to grab a pizza with him.
Ally opened her eyes, and replied with a sad, gentle smile, “Pizza? Did you want to grab a pizza?”
His gaze avoided hers, and he stared instead at their feet. “Yes, I wanted to ask if you wanted to eat pizza. But maybe… you have a better idea?”
She stared at him so he lifted his eyes toward the sky. The sparkling ocean peeked between the tree trunks and their silhouettes were framed in glittering-gold sunset colors. “Pretty, isn’t it?”
He finally glanced directly at her. “The sunset?”
“Yes, but we can’t confine all of our discussions to how pretty the ocean or the sunset is. We have to talk, Nate. For real. Including food. What meals we want to eat. We have to agree on a meal together without making it a catastrophe every single time.”
“How?” he whispered, shaking his head. “How do I do that? I don’t know how to ask you when or what to eat. I’ve been starving since we got here, but I don’t know the right way to bring it up to you.”
“Easy. Just say the word. Food. Lunch. Dinner. Meals. Hunger. Whatever one you want to use is fine with me. Let’s start there. Start by treating me like you would anyone else, the way you used to treat me.”
“I didn’t know you used food as a weapon against yourself then,” he said. His tone was so quiet, it almost sounded guttural. “Ally, what you do… well, it scares me. I am always at a loss of what do or say. Or even to ask you if you want a meal.”
Ally nodded and stepped forward, moving out of the way from the last stragglers of beachcombers coming up the path. She leaned on the iron railing that separated the path from the gully below them and trailed down to the beach. “Wow, never thought of it quite like that before, a weapon against myself. Yeah, yes, that’s what I did. But it doesn’t mean we can’t eat. I still have to eat. I’m not anorexic, unless you forgot.”
Nate shook his head, unsmiling. “Too soon to joke about it yet.”
She nodded. “Do you think someday it won’t be? I mean, too soon to joke? Because, honest to God, I don’t know how else to handle this. I don’t know how to do it, Nate, face each day if I have to be so serious and objective about it all the time. I need to make fun of it and me before I let the disorder consume my life. I was already doing that, until you put an epic stop to it. It’s a miserable, goddamned thing to have, and believe me, I know. But I do have it, so you can’t act like I don’t.”
“So now what? I just ask you to get a pizza?”
“Yes. You simply ask me to eat. You ask me to get dinner or lunch or burgers or pasta. You have to ask me or I can’t answer you, now can I? I still have to eat. And pizza sounds good. I’m hungry too.”
Nate nodded. But the puzzlement written all over his face remained. He wasn’t reassured, and still had no idea what to say next. They headed back towards the huge building at the town center, to a small pizza parlor that served fresh baked pizza and sodas. Ally’s shoulders slumped as she followed Nate. He was no closer to acting normal.
Dinner was even more awkward. They avoided eye contact altogether, which was quite a feat since their tiny table barely held the gigantic pizza. Ally ate two slices, and sipped a diet pop. She could feel Nate’s eyes on her. What? Did she eat too little? Too much? Did he worry if she didn’t eat enough with him that she’d somehow sneak in the leftovers and devour them later?
Well, it wouldn’t be the first time. She sighed as her appetite suddenly waned before pushing the plate away. She watched the sparse crowds coming in and out, passing by on the sidewalk outside where they sat. A wall of glass fronted the street.
Nate chose a couple of bottles of wine and paid for them. Ally didn’t comment. At least, it might help kill the evening. Dejected, with her heart sinking deeper at the dissatisfaction and disappointment in both of them, she trudged after Nate. She didn’t really care what he had to say. She didn’t know what to talk about either. The thought of being alone here, vacationing, and dealing with each other for a whole week loomed long, boring, and miserable ahead of her.
Bad idea. Trying to recapture something that was hot and volatile, like a sparkler, their relationship ignited too quickly, almost to the point of blinding them both with the fun and surprise, only to quickly burn out, fizzling away. Nothing. Ally could not even picture how they once liked being together. Maybe it was a bright, shiny, happy illusion that was truly meant to be a good time, and that’s all. Maybe they should have left it alone.
Twilight seemed to linger in the endless June evening. It was just cool enough to think about wearing a sweatshirt. They entered the house. Silence. Ally had to pee, as well as brush her hair, and she added a sweatshirt to her outfit. With nothing left to do, she joined Nate, who sat on the small covered deck, staring out into the night. Intermittent house lights dotted the scenery, just soft glows of warm color. Nate sipped a glass of wine.
Ally sat down, twisting her hands. Nate’s long legs rested on the deck railing as he lounged in the Adirondack chair. Ally sighed, leaning back. “Good wine?” she asked.
He stared at the red liquid in the glass. “Honestly? I have no idea. I don’t know a damn thing about the stuff. My parents always drank it. I’d sip off their’s when I was young. When I was old enough I couldn’t tell the difference when dad told me so-and-so label was the good stuff, and the other was cheap. They’re all the same to me. Strong-flavored and grape-tasting.”
She laughed. “Me too. I never could tell, I mean, not much. Why are you drinking it?”
“Seemed like something to do.”
She nodded. “What would you have done here with someone else?”
“I wouldn’t have come with anyone else. My dad got this place for us. For you and me.”
“Why?” Her eyebrows lowered in surprise and suspicion.
Nate stared at his drink, swirling it, and watching the mini whirlpool. “Because he knew how I felt about you. And how worried I was. How much I missed you. I guess he hoped we’d work it out.”
“Do you still?”
“What?” Nate’s tone sounded begrudging and
questioning.
“Want to work it out? Feel those things about me? Miss me?”
Nate didn’t glance up; he was still staring at the swirling wine before placing the glass to his lips and drinking liberally. “I don’t know. But it’s not like we can just pick up where we left off.”
His honesty cut her to the quick. She turned and gazed at the view in the night without closing her eyes. Taking in a deep breath for courage, she leaned back, snuggling her butt deeper into the chair and hunching her shoulders forward. “Do you remember where we left off? Before this was all brought out?”
“Yeah, sure. I remember.”
“Is that why you’re here? Hoping to find the Ally you thought I was?”
Silence. Deep, dark, and foreboding. Then quietly, he replied, “I hoped the Ally I thought you were was the one who’s beside me now.”
She shut her eyes tightly, feeling glad he couldn’t see her. “What if she’s both?”
“Meaning?”
“The one you first fantasized about, the one you got to know and had sex with for a few months… Well, what if there’s another one? One who’s afraid all the time of failing, or being less than perfect. And of people seeing that about her? One that uses food as a weapon against herself? What if that is the real me? I’m both of those, Nate. Two sides of the same coin. Or I mean, the same person.”
“Do you blame me for exposing the other side so publically? I have to say I’m surprised you haven’t really said anything to me about it.”
“No.” She drew in a labored breath. “It was hard. That day? It was miserable. All my fears culminated at once: failure, and the people I love the most witnessing it, and you seeing it. And the one thing I always counted on for comfort and hid was my bulimia. But I don’t blame you.”
“You told me you hoped I died.”
A small smile tugged at her mouth. Not for laughter but the grim reality of what their very new and fragile relationship faced. “It was a moment of anger and not what I really meant.”
“I had no idea you were even capable of that much anger.”
“Me neither. Part of the problem I’m just beginning to address.”
“I don’t totally understand what you do.”
“I don’t think anyone would expect you to. But I could tell you about it. I mean, if you want to—understand, that is. If you want to know more about it, I can teach you.”
She nodded, drawing her knees up and wrapping her arms around them. Feeling vulnerable, and very unsure where they stood, she rested her chin on top of her knees. He glanced over at her before slowly setting his wine glass down on the wide armrest of the chair. He kneeled across the distance between them, coming before her and said, “I want to know.”
Tears threatened to blur her vision and Ally blinked them back. “Then why do you act as if you’re so afraid to touch me? Or talk to me? As if I’m a contagious leper that you can’t bear to even look at me?”
“I thought you felt that way. Because I told your secret and brought it out for everyone to see. I didn’t mean to do it like I did it, but that doesn’t change that I did it. And I would have brought it out in some way or another. I thought you were feeling unsure how to look or touch or talk to me.”
Tears slid down her cheeks as Ally shook her head in denial. “No. I feel unsure with everyone else. I want to find someplace, one person, besides my mom and sister, with whom I feel safe. Where I’m not afraid to be both sides of the Ally I am. I swear to you, that other Ally is still inside me. She’ll come back too. Someday, in weeks or a few months, I don’t know; but I swear to you she will come back, stronger, smarter, more demanding and annoying than ever. She’ll try to outdo you and compete with you and strive to best you in everything academic. But right now? Here with you? I just need to feel that I can be all of me… all the triggers that make me bulimic are here with us too.”
Nate finally abandoned the stoic, odd, almost angry way he’d been avoiding her eyes and touching her. Reaching forward, his fingertips touched her cheek, her chin, and slid into her hair as his hand cupped her neck. Pulling her forward until their foreheads touched together, he replied, “I need that too. I mean, your acceptance to both sides of me. The one who first loved you and the one who is scared shitless by what you did to yourself, but I want to be with you still, now and always. I might be good at school, but I’m not good at this stuff. If you can tell me what you need, or what I should do, or even how to do this, I swear to you, I’ll bumble my way through it the best that I can. And if I suck or fail to do it right, can you forgive me? And let me try again until I get it right? In the past, Ally, you rarely if ever, gave a person a second chance.”
“You’re not any person. And this isn’t a group project for a class grade. I know the difference.”
He smiled briefly before it faded. “You didn’t always know the difference. Black and white… holding grudges forever. I thought you’d hate me forever after what I did.”
“Okay, I might not have seen the other side. But I’m starting to see it now. Hospital interventions will do that to a girl.”
Finally, a short laugh escaped his mouth. “Not too soon, huh?”
“Not too soon,” she mimicked, her words light and carefree, but her tone was weighted with meaning. He nodded and put his hand up in front of her, fingers splayed, so she intertwined her fingers with his.
“What now?” she barely whispered. She was almost afraid to break the tentative silence and connection that developed.
“No more pretty talk about the ocean and the cute, little town? How about we start from scratch? Get to know each other for real, both sides of us.”
“That’s a scary proposition.”
“Yeah, sharing it all? I agree.”
Their conversation fell flat again. Nate tugged on her hand, gently pulling her forward until his mouth found hers. They shared a soft, sensuous kiss. Nate suddenly retreated, asking, “Do you want to get married someday?”
“To you?” Ally straightened in shock.
“No, just in general. Do you ever want to get married someday?”
“I think, yes. I mean, that’s the normal thing to do. Except then again, when I think of my mother, I don’t know…”
“What do you mean?”
Her head tilted. “Why are you asking me that now?”
“Because we’re talking. Getting to know each other. It’s a normal place to start.”
Her eyebrows furrowed. “Right now? We’re going to talk right now?”
“Yeah.” Nate nodded. “I think it’s the perfect time to start. What do you mean, because of your mother? She’s happily married to Donny, isn’t she?”
Ally took in a deep breath, standing up, and walked over to the deck railing. She looked out for a long moment, ostensibly collecting her thoughts. “Do you mind if I get a glass of wine first?”
“Be my guest.”
She returned with her glass and leaned against the railing before she began to explain, “Yes, and she was happily married to my dad too for about a decade. Until she was jobless, husbandless, and lacking any income whatsoever. She truly believed she had a mutually happy marriage the first time around. I just wonder sometimes how necessary it is for people to get married. People still do whatever they want to do. I mean, look at me.”
“Your mom doesn’t feel that way. She remarried and started a whole new life.”
“Touché. She did.”
“Besides, you will become a great lawyer or judge, no one could ever leave you high and dry without a job or a decent income. Am I right?”
“Yes, that was lesson number one from my mom. She pushed us to finish college, and do something, be something. She insisted we get established in some kind of job or foundation so that regardless of whether we had kids and stayed at home with them someday, like she did, which she never bashes by the way, but so we could always have a backup plan. As she clearly demonstrated, you don’t know what will happen. Do you want to get married, N
ate?”
“Yes. My parents were always happy. Makes it an easy thing to wish for and imagine wanting someday.”
“Kids?”
“Yes. You?”
She hesitated. “Maybe. Not entirely sold on the idea yet.”
Nate lifted his glass and took a sip, setting it back down, and sprawling his legs out further. “I don’t intend to have them anytime soon. More like when I’m—”
“Thirty?” Ally inserted hopefully.
Nate smiled, and so did she. “Yes, that’s about the age I had in mind.”
“Because you want to get some kind of career going first?”
“Yes. You too, of course?”
“Yup. Only then would I even consider it. Would you be open to a kid in the singular? Or did you hate being an only child?”
“Would you miss Kylie if you didn’t have her?”
Ally shuddered. “Oh, God, yes.”
“See? I can’t imagine what that feels like. Siblings? Julia is it for me and that only happened after I was nineteen years old. I never had anyone who understood my life problems. Would it have been easier for you to go through all the shit after Micah left if you were all alone?”
“It would have been ten times worse without Kylie. So I guess having a single child is out.”
“No. Not necessarily. I had my parents all to myself. It was just the three of us. They made me one of them. I learned to be self-sufficient at an early age. There was no one for me to play with on vacations. I came here with them and invariably had to entertain myself. It taught me patience, independence, and resourcefulness. I never needed anyone else, since I was happy to do for myself. I think it made me who I am today. I was always very close to my parents, and I still am with my dad. So yeah, I’d be open to just one kid.”
Ally smiled. “It’s kinda sad you don’t know what’s it’s like to have a connection to someone that is almost visceral. You can hate them at times for days, and scream and yell and be totally unreasonable, but they are your sibling. No matter what. There’s a lot to be said in that.”