“You are done, girl. I will fix you. I have to fix you!” she rattles on as I laugh and hold my aching body. “I’m not going through this again. No I am not.”
She locks the window and then walks to the door and I don’t even try to crawl to freedom. I just curl into a painful ball and listen to what’s left of my sanity lock itself in the hall with my grandmother.
26 years old
“It’s insane how one moment in your life can change everything.” His voice is like a rush of water in my dying, scorched mind.
When I woke up mid-afternoon after a tumultuous night’s sleep, I never expected my day to take this sort of turn.
Kane Jessop is standing on my doormat, his hand pressing against the flat wood that is my door so I can’t slam it in his face. As in my doormat just outside of my apartment where I live.
“Chicago, Illinois,” he comments, a piece of gum rolling around his mouth. I always found the way he chewed gum so attractive, the way his perfectly shaped lips move and his cheeks hollow slightly. “Didn’t you say Minneapolis? St Paul to be exact? A well-rehearsed fuckin’ lie I bet.”
My mouth opens and closes. I’m so dumbfounded I don’t know how to react. “What?”
“What?” He laughs humorlessly, his blue eyes dangerous with madness. “All you can say is what?”
“I’m sorry, I’m completely fuckin’ caught off guard here Kane. It’s been three weeks since I left, I never expected to see you again.”
“Yeah, me neither, but here I am.”
“Why?”
“Why?” he asks incredulously. “Because you fuckin’ ran again, didn’t even give me time to cool down. And then…” He steps inside, backing me up into my apartment. He grabs my elbow, eyes blazing, heart hammering so loudly I can hear it battling my own for decibel dominance. “And then I find out, straight from the mouth of your boyfriend…”
I wet my lips, holding his eyes, petrified because this isn’t happening, or it is happening. I don’t know. Am I having a nightmare?
He is seething, his words are low and clipped. “That you didn’t leave me for him at all because guess what, Immy, HE’S FUCKING GAY AND HE ALWAYS FUCKING HAS BEEN!”
My heart sinks into my stomach, crawls out my ass and hops on the nearest shuttle to outer space. “He told you.”
“Yeah he fucking told me. Said you came home a mess, said we got things to deal with, said he feels bad for betraying you but he’s worried you might do somethin’ stupid like try to kill yourself again.”
It’s bad because I had thought about it, it had crossed my mind. Death just seems so much simpler than this. But I wouldn’t, not again. I’m not that far gone in my mind, not anymore.
“What does it matter, Kane?”
“What does your life matter?” he asks, wrapping my hair around his hand. “Is that what you’re asking?”
“Let me go.”
“No.” He yanks me closer, putting us chest to chest and my nipples tighten immediately. I’m only wearing a satin shift that stops before my knees and a matching nightgown. I wasn’t expecting company today and I’m not at work until tomorrow. “Marshall seems to think you’ve got something to tell me. And if it’s not that you left me for another man then I’m wrackin’ my brain trying to figure it out.” He stares me down. “Did you just stop lovin’ me? Because of how I was and what I did?”
I don’t answer, I just stare at him dumbfounded, feeling betrayed by Marshall and overwhelmed by Kane’s presence.
“Don’t ask me,” I finally whisper. “Don’t make me tell you.”
“Tell me what?” He shakes me slightly and holds me tighter. “Tell me what?”
I pull away, slipping out of his hold and I think he senses my need for a moment because he gives me it, he lets me out of his grasp despite the fact he could so easily pull me back. “You’ve travelled a long way, Kane. Do you want a coffee?”
“Would love a coffee,” he bites out, his impatience clear.
“Good, there’s a Starbucks just down the road, make yourself comfortable there.”
Growling a sound of frustration he pounces on me, wrapping his arms around me from behind. “Told you I wouldn’t pin you, I fuckin’ lied.”
“Yeah I got that when you tampered with my car.”
He chuckles, a genuine sound in this moment of absolute madness and sorrow.
We stay like this, suspended for a moment, me tense in his warm arms that still make me feel safe despite everything.
When he realizes I’m not going to talk, he begins, “Never moved on, Immy.”
I inhale sharply and shut my eyes.
“Fucked a lot, but never found that connection with anyone else. I’m man enough to admit that shit to you, man enough to tell you everything you need to hear. But you gotta be strong enough to give me the truth, babe. You loved me. You ain’t moved on either. Marshall told me you exist, you don’t live. But the girl I remember fuckin’ lived, she didn’t just exist.”
My lip shakes as new waves of pain take me over.
“If I tell you, I can’t take it back. You have to hold it forever. It’ll stay with you. It’ll haunt you.” My words are whispered, my jaw is trembling, my teeth chattering, my body aching.
“I can take it.”
“I don’t think I can handle hurting you,” I admit.
“You fuckin’ destroyed me already, Immy.” Concerned eyes search my face. “What can be worse than this?” Realization dawns and his eyes widen. “Did you have an abortion? That what this is?”
I laugh coldly. “Oh, Kane… I fuckin’ wish it was that. I really fuckin’ wish it was that.”
“Then what, Immy? I’m stumped.”
“Let me make you that coffee first.”
He lets me go again and follows me into the kitchen. “You need time to sort your head out?”
“Never thought I’d have to tell you. Need more than time to sort my head out.” I look at him, eyes filling with tears. Then, finally I admit out loud all the shit I should have admitted out loud so many years ago, “I didn’t come back because I wanted to spare you this. You have to understand that, I didn’t leave you because I didn’t love you.”
“I’m startin’ to get that, but Immy, we were partners. Anythin’ you were feelin’, I should’a been feeling right there with you.” His words cut me deeper than any of his others. His accent is heavier than usual, it always got this way when he was riled up or emotional which wasn’t often. Well, the latter wasn’t often, the former was quite often. “Why the fuck did you leave, Immy? Just tell me.”
“I didn’t leave, Kane,” I reply, placing my hands on the small breakfast bar and splaying my fingers. My chipped nail polish is a gentle reminder that I need to get my shit together. I didn’t survive what I survived to fucking succumb to the agony of this moment.
“You did.”
“No I didn’t,” I respond firmly and look into his eyes. “I didn’t leave.” With a deep inhale, I finally admit, feeling a weight lift and a new one settle, “I was taken.”
His brows pull together. “What?”
His confusion is exactly as I expected.
“Mee-maw found out I was pregnant.”
His body stiffens, I expected that too.
“So she sent me away, some place I couldn’t get away from.”
“But—” He looks at me dumbfounded and with no small amount of disbelief. “You were pregnant?”
“Yeah. I was pregnant.”
17 years old
My brother is a mess. Poppy won’t take him back and I don’t blame her. He’s become slightly psychotic, stalking her, trying to force her to kiss him because in his drug-delusional brain he thinks if she kisses him she’ll remember she loves him.
There’s no getting through to him. He hardly has any lucid moments these days. What’s worse is Mee-maw is taking it all out on me which isn’t fair. Because he can’t physically feel shit there’s no use beating him, so instead she belittles and berat
es me at every turn then acts nice as pie come dinner time.
I can’t wait to get the hell out of here.
“Matthew?” I call into his dark bedroom and find his silhouette by the window before my eyes adjust. “Are you okay?”
“Get the fuck out!” he yells and a shoe hits the wall by my head.
I startle and quickly close the door, trying not to burn the image of him in nothing but his boxers, a cigarette hanging from his mouth and a spiteful look on his face. He has never in my life looked at me the way he started looking at me when Poppy rejected him.
He blames me, he thinks I helped Poppy turn against him which I didn’t. I only supported her decision to leave him because he fucking ruined her, I didn’t actively make it happen. If she’d chosen to forgive him I’d have called her an idiot but I’d have supported that too. He doesn’t get to blame what he did on anybody else. It’s unfair.
I return to my room and smile at the sight of Kane sitting on my bed, looking through my journal of all things. A smile lights up his face at something I’ve written, I should be pissed that he’s looking through it but I have no thoughts in my head that I don’t share with Kane already.
Things have been different between us since his fight with Marshall. I probably should have been stronger and turned him away but everything is so messed up right now I just don’t have the strength to fight with him. He hasn’t apologized but then again he never does. We just haven’t spoken about it. He showed up a few days later with a shake and a brownie from my favorite place.
He only said, “Sorry I ain’t been in touch, gotta get my shit together.” And that was it. That was enough. For now anyway. I’ve got bigger things to worry about than Kane and his anger issues. We haven’t had sex though and I think he’s feeling that. I just haven’t been feeling it recently. I’m too stressed, too tired, too worried about the future.
Mee-maw isn’t here so I sneaked him in and I’m glad of it. He’s so handsome and with each passing week he just gets even more handsome. His beard is growing just enough to make him look way more man than teenage boy. His voice is deeper now too, gruffer than it ever was. People say you can’t tell changes like that in a person you’re around every day but I’m so hyperaware of Kane Jessop that I notice everything.
Sensing my sadness, he shuffles up my bed after slamming my journal closed, and opens his arm for me to lay beside him and rest my head on his chest. He kisses my hair and tickles my arm making me relax deeper into him.
“Love you enough to fill the gap he’s leavin’,” he whispers against my hair and my heart breaks and mends in totally different ways. “He’ll snap out of it and get his life together.”
“Will he?”
“Promise you he will, you’ll see.”
I kiss his throat and place my forehead against the shiny mark my Chapstick made. “Love you too, Kane.”
“Then let’s get the fuck outta here.”
“And go where?”
He starts to sit up, forcing me to move with him. “Fuck it, who cares? Let’s go for a ride until we run out of gas.”
Giggling gently, I stand and hop on his back when he offers me another kind of ride. I cling to him like a monkey, laughing and squealing when he carries me down the stairs like I weigh nothing. The asshole sways a bit too, making me panic but he rights us and carries me out of the house and all the way to his Challenger.
“I forgot my shoes,” I whisper when he drops me by the sexy vehicle and the dry road feels rough under my feet. He races back to get them which makes me laugh harder and we make out for a while before driving into the night with the music playing full blast.
Wouldn’t it be magical if this was the end of our story, like in so many books, and maybe we’d fast forward to thirty years from now, watching our kids get married or some mushy loved up tale like that. But in real life there are no epilogues, only pain. So much pain.
* * *
I grip the basin and heave. I can’t breathe through it; I can’t do anything but choke on the violent wave of vomit that is tearing its way out of my body.
I’ve been feeling sick a lot lately but not like this. This is hell and it hasn’t stopped for three days. I keep telling everyone and myself that it’s a bug but it’s not. I just know it.
“You’re pregnant,” my brother says while leaning against the door jamb. He’s looking a lot better today which is a relief. Since he threw that shoe at me a week ago we haven’t hardly looked at each other. “Don’t take a genius to work it out. You been sick until after noon every day.”
All I can do is vomit harder. I don’t want to be pregnant. Kane and I are making plans to move in together in Austin while I go to college. We’re figuring everything out and a baby just doesn’t fit into that plan. I don’t know how to look after a baby. I don’t think I’ve ever even held a baby.
“Don’t tell anyone,” I beg, taking the wet face cloth he hands to me.
“Duh.” He frowns at me, looking every bit the concerned brother I remember him to be. “You okay?”
“No.” I lean back against the bath.
“You gotta try and rein it in, if I figured it out, Mee-maw will and then you’ll be up shit creek without a paddle. She’ll probably dose your food with an abortion pill or somethin’, ain’t no way another of her kids is getting knocked up to a lowlife.”
“Kane is not a lowlife.”
“I know that, but she don’t, she hates him.” He has a point, a strong one. “You gonna tell him?”
I shake my head, panicking deep down that he might leave me, or hate me, or take my choice away completely. “Not until I know what to do.”
“Shit thing that, keeping a baby from its daddy.”
I glower at him. “Fuck off Matthew, we don’t even know that’s what it is yet. I need to do a test first.”
“Good luck gettin’ one of those from the pharmacy without tongues wagging.”
He makes another great point. I chew on my lip and climb shakily to my feet. He watches as I brush my teeth and spray the small bathroom to get rid of the vomit smell.
“Are we friends again now?” I ask him, not making eye contact because I don’t think I can handle what I see there.
He walks away, letting me know he hasn’t forgiven me for the shit I didn’t even do. I let him go because there’s no use fighting with him right now. His mind is made and that’s his problem, not mine. The front door to the house slams less than a minute later and I finish getting ready for church.
I really hope he doesn’t say anything to anyone.
“You ready?” Mee-maw calls up the stairs.
“Coming,” I return and race down towards her.
For all my mee-maw’s faults she is a beautiful woman just like my momma, it’s just a shame they both have sour-ass-souls. I smile at her standing at the bottom of the stairs, bending slightly to slip on her Sunday heels. I stuff my feet into a pair of black flats and follow her out of the house, taking her arm when she offers it to me.
We drive while listening to Christian music, as is Mee-maw’s usual. I bop my head, it’s a good tune, not what I enjoy these days but it’s still decent enough all the same.
I remember back when me and Poppy were young, we used to pretend we were the most famous Christian Country Rock singers in the world. We’d get dressed up and write our own terrible music about loving Jesus and the Almighty.
I smile fondly at the memory of it.
Imogen: Thinking of you. <3
Poppy: Miss you. I need to see you soon. <3
Imogen: It has been forever. How are you holding up?
Poppy: Better. I’ve got a date tonight with Bradley Tatum.
Imogen: Damn girl, he fine!
Poppy: Right?
Imogen: You nervous?
Poppy: Don’t think I’m ready to move on. I don’t want to get hurt again.
Imogen: I bet it’s so hard but not every guy is like my brother. And I’m always here for you. Remember that.
Poppy: I know. How is he?
Imogen: He’ll get his shit straight, don’t worry about him.
Poppy: I’ll always worry about him.
Imogen: Love sucks.
I don’t tell her that my love with Kane might have produced a baby because she doesn’t need my shit weighing her down and until I know for sure, I’m not telling anybody. No use getting Kane pissed at me until I know definitely that I fucked up with my pill.
I’m not the most responsible. I kept forgetting. I should have gotten something a bit more permanent but it’s hard getting birth control without Mee-maw finding out. There isn’t a Planned Parenthood around here. Now I really wish I’d made the three-hour journey.
Kane: Church done yet?
Imogen: Not yet. Miss me?
Kane: My dick is so hard. Don’t know why. Don’t care why. Need you to deal with it.
Imogen: You sure know how to woo a girl.
Can I have sex while pregnant? Is that possible? My heart is hammering in my chest at the possibility that I might be knocked up. This sucks so hard. I never thought it would happen, I’m so naïve.
Before, not having sex with Kane was more about control and because I didn’t want to reward him for his bad behavior. But now it’s all about my own safety and the safety of the unborn in my stomach. I don’t know if it’s there but I’m not taking any chances.
“Put your phone away,” Mee-maw snaps. “Is it so hard for you to spend quality time with me without looking at that screen?”
I don’t answer because that question feels like entrapment and the honest answer will probably get me beaten.
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