TWELVE MINUTES

Home > Other > TWELVE MINUTES > Page 19
TWELVE MINUTES Page 19

by Kathryn Hewitt


  Finding them downstairs, sitting in the living room, I plopped down in the armchair that was sort of “mine.” It made it easier for me in the beginning to have clearly defined boundaries, literally, and it helped with my symbolic boundaries, which I needed as I reintegrated into life with my mom and sister. They respected it, and these days, it was just more of a habit. I still marveled at how they could sit so closely together on the couch, but I hoped that one day I too would be able to be like that, without giving it a second thought like the two of them did. Regardless, they looked up when I entered the room, but didn’t blink an eye when I headed straight to the chair.

  “I think I might like you being on summer break. You have a freer schedule and I’ll get to see you more,” my mom commented. I thought it was almost laughable, seeing as with school and therapy, I still spent the majority of my time at home. But my mom was a Realtor, so sometimes she was home and sometimes she was gone a lot, it really depended on the listings at the time. So what she really meant was, since her schedule was unpredictable, my being home almost all of the time meant that she’d have a better chance of seeing me when she happened to be home. But it was a nice sentiment.

  “Yeah, I thought I might take summer classes, but I decided a break might be good.” I answered, although truthfully, I hadn’t decided if this had been the right decision. But I’d dropped the class that I had enrolled in to hold my place in the event that I wanted to take it, so now there wasn’t much choice.

  “I hear that you and Kara went out, that’s nice.” My mom had been fully aware that we were going to Harrison’s thing, probably the second after I’d asked Kara to come with me. But this was her usual routine; she knew everything, but had experienced my discomfort with her trying to be so involved in my life, that she pretended like she didn’t, or waited a while before nonchalantly bringing it up. And by experienced my discomfort, it was more like I’d blown up on her way too many times when I’d felt like she was trying to micromanage my brain. Or, I’d just ignored her. Yeah, when things were bad, they were bad across the board.

  “It was nice of Kara to join me. My friend invited me to a get-together and it felt better not to go alone,” I responded, feeling like our conversations were always like this. Like we were acting. My mom would say something that we both knew meant a million things but that she had whittled down to what she felt was acceptable, and I would answer with an obvious statement that showed how much growth I’d accomplished and how I was trying to heal. It was weird. Like she was always trying to show me that she understood how delicate I was and I was always trying to prove to her that I was tougher than she thought, but still understood that simple things were hard for me…but that I was working on it. Basically, it was a good thing that we were both still in therapy.

  And Kara? Kara just laughed.

  “It was actually fun, Mom. I mean, it was totally lame,” she shot me an apologetic look before adding, “but it was really fun to see Cass out and hanging. Her friend is actually pretty nice, and he seems to like her, in like a totally normal way.” Kara, per usual, then looked like she’d said something wrong. I got it that I was damaged, but it still sucked to be treated that way. “I just mean, it was…fun,” she added, lamely.

  “It was fun,” I said softly.

  “That’s great, honey,” my mom said, and for once, I felt like she was just saying what she was thinking.

  “Hey Kara, I was tagged in a photo of us from that night,” I said, hoping that I masked the giddiness in my voice at such a small, albeit important to me, feat.

  “Oh yeah? I didn’t think you were on social media anymore…”

  “Yeah, I’m not really, but I never deleted my page. I guess if you search for me, you can find me…” I was starting to wonder if this was a bad thing, having been too blinded by the excitement of feeling like I had made so much progress to examine it too closely.

  “Cass, is that a good thing?” My mom had apparently immediately come to the same conclusion that I just had.

  “Yeah, maybe not. You’re probably right, I should probably just delete it,” I said, realizing that the anonymity that I craved was impossible if I kept my account open.

  “Well let’s see the picture before you delete it, at least,” Kara said immediately, and I suspected that she just wanted to make sure that she looked good in the picture. I tried to hide my smile but my mom actually met my eye and winked. Look at that, twice in one day, my mom and I had been on the same page. Miracles did happen!

  “It’s nothing,” I said, feeling weird to be pouring over a picture, with my mom as a third.

  “I want to see,” Kara complained. Ugh. What was the big deal if I was just going to delete my account anyway?

  Pulling out my phone, I went into the app and found the picture, before holding my hand out to Kara, with the phone in it. If she wanted to see, she had to come and get it. Typical Cass and Kara, right there.

  Kara practically leapt off of the couch and snatched the phone from me, like she thought I’d change my mind if she moved at the speed of a human being. I just shook my head and rolled my eyes, but neither Kara or my mom noticed since they were already hunched over the small screen and scrutinizing the picture.

  “We look good,” Kara said, approvingly. I guess it passed her test. If she’d thought that she looked bad, would she have like demanded that I have Harrison take it down? Not like I would ask him, but Kara could be funny like that.

  “Is this your friend?” My mom’s ‘casual’ tone did not fool me. She was dying to ask me about Harrison, how we’d met, if we’d hung out more times than this, what his middle name was, the last four of his social…you know, the general details.

  “Yeah, that’s Harrison,” Kara answered for me and I almost laughed at the annoyance that flashed briefly across my mother’s face. I could just hear her thoughts, ‘If I wanted your answer, I would have asked you, Kara…’ “Ooh, comments…” Kara said obliviously, and started scrolling down. “Do you know any of these people?” she asked, as she kept reading.

  “Not really. I think they’re mostly just Harrison’s friends. Oh, I know Charlie, but otherwise…” I trailed off when both Kara and my mom snapped their attention away from the phone and pinned their identical blue eyes on me.

  Shit. Why had I pointed out Charlie to them?

  “Charlie Hudson?” my sister asked, and I didn’t quite get what she was saying. Luckily she kept talking. “I don’t know why that name is so familiar to me. Weird.”

  “Oh, can we see his picture on here?” my mom asked, and I got up and snatched the phone out of Kara’s hands.

  “Wow, she never moves that fast,” Kara said.

  “Whatever. It’s just weird now.” I had gone from exuberant to self-conscious in a matter of minutes. I knew that I was being immature, but I was willing to share on my terms at my pace. And everything about Charlie was well beyond that point.

  “Honey, I just wanted to see a picture of your…whatever this boy is to you.”

  “He’s nothing, Mom. I’m not seeing him,” I said, and couldn’t believe I’d thought that any of this had been a good idea.

  “Oh,” she and Kara said in unison, with a really weird mixture of relief and disappointment. That I could actually understand. I kind of felt the same way.

  “So yeah. I’ll see you guys later,” I said, closing the conversation and heading back upstairs. Looked like I would be spending the first day of summer alone in my room, after all. I’d probably even read, I thought miserably, remembering what Harrison had teased me about.

  ✧✧✧

  “You can delete it, it’s your call, but the picture will still be out there.” Diane never held back. It had been a while since I’d seen her, so when I’d called to see if she wanted to hang out, she sounded genuinely excited. Diane needed to get out more. And, duh.

  “Yeah, I mean I know that you’re right, but at least my name won’t be out there, so easily searchable,” I pointed out, thinkin
g that Diane would immediately agree and we’d ceremoniously delete my account together. With a ribbon cutting and those comically large sheers.

  “Eh. People can find you regardless of how you try to hide, if they really want to.” Gee, thanks for the uplifting and totally terrifying words of wisdom.

  “Yeah, not helpful, Diane.” She just laughed.

  “Just saying, if that’s why you want to do it, I wouldn’t bother. If it’s just something from your old life that seems useless or makes you uncomfortably reminded of a time that you don’t identify with anymore, then do it. I don’t do social media, obviously, so I’m not the best person to ask as to whether this will impact your future social life or something.” She just shrugged. Not for the first time did I wonder what had happened to her ex-husband, and if she was ever worried that he might show up one day.

  “Diane, your ex…do you worry that he’ll find you?” I wanted to know. Because honestly, as much as everyone told me that my attack had been an anomaly, that it couldn’t have been premeditated, I’d always feared that they were wrong. For a long time a lot of my phobias centered around the fear that He would come back, despite the statistical odds that He wouldn’t. It was just too hard to wrap my mind around such a life changing event being coincidence, or simply bad luck. Although, the alternative was much scarier, so I’d finally succumbed to the belief that I’d never have to worry about Him again. Others, now that was a different issue…

  “Nah, he wouldn’t dare. That was the thing with Dennis…he was actually a total coward. It was why he felt the need to exercise his dominance with his fists. Besides, I actually have it on good authority that he’s locked up and will be for a long time, so in that regard, I rest easy. It’s a lot of the other stuff that keeps me awake at night.”

  Yeah, like what her job made her deal with every day, the reality that was inescapable for Diane. There may have only been one Cass, but there were millions of other women out there like me, and Diane was their front line. What Diane did was awe inspiring, I just feared that the job that defined her would one day also be the thing that destroyed her.

  “So just leave the account?” I wasn’t sure what she was saying. Keep it because I could be ‘got’ at any time? Close it because, well, I could be ‘got’ at any time…

  “Whatever. It really doesn’t seem like it makes a difference so if you want to keep it, keep it.”

  “Diane, you used to be a lot more positive,” which was a lie, but sort of not.

  “You needed it more then. You’ve come a long way, Cass,” she answered matter of factly. I guess that was a good thing?

  “Well, either way, wanna see the picture?” I figured that seemed to please people, although Diane wasn’t really ‘people.’ Not waiting for an answer since I figured that she didn’t actually want to see it, I pulled it up and thrust it toward her.

  “Cute.” Diane said, glancing at it. Well, Charlie’s comment must have been more offhanded than I’d thought. Good to know.

  “Yeah, I guess it’s just cool because it’s like the first documentation of me out and about and trying on a life,” I said, knowing that I was placing way too much importance on this random snap, but having it mean just as much to me, nonetheless.

  “It’s great, Cass. I’m serious, you’re doing really well. I’m proud of you.” Diane was finally being serious.

  “Thanks. Wanna make some popcorn? I hear there’s a new reality dating show that just came out…” Diane smiled and hightailed it to the kitchen to commence our Cass and Diane time.

  FORTY

  “Cassandra?” I could practically see the expression on Charlie’s face through the phone: a mixture of confidence, assured relaxation, and a cocky smile twisting his lips. I could picture the glint of his hazel eyes, his pleasure in reaching me, palpable.

  “Hi, Charlie.” I had been surprised to see his name show up on the caller ID as my phone had rung, but I’d been so bored and feeling like I was out of touch with humanity, that I’d decided to answer. At least I could say hi and hear how his undoubtedly exciting and extremely productive summer was going.

  “How’s relaxation feel?” he asked, alluding to the end of classes and the obvious reduction of stress that came along with it.

  “It’s fine. I’ve been getting some stuff taken care of that I never got around to during the semester…” That was the truth, I just didn’t feel like explaining that said ‘stuff’ were things like cleaning out my desk drawer and finally figuring out how to reach the ancient cobweb that taunted me from the uppermost corner of my closet. “How’s summer treating you, Charlie?”

  “It’s really nice to hear your voice, Cassandra.” Despite not answering my question, his statement made me feel good, like I was still a little bit special to be receiving Charlie’s attention. “Summer is fine. I’ve been working on some long-term assignments required for graduation, so it’s not a whole lot different from the regular school year. But I miss seeing your beautiful face,” he added, and I blushed a little.

  “Yeah, it’s a little embarrassing, but I kind of miss class. It kept my mind occupied.” After I’d said this, I hoped that he interpreted it to mean in an academic and intellectual sense, not in the true way that it actually meant…which was in an attempt to avoid a psychological and analytical cluster eff kind of way.

  “So I was wondering if you’d given any thought to going out again. I know you said it wasn’t the right time, but hey…it’s a different time now, so I figured that it was worth a shot.” Charlie was apparently not just calling to say hi.

  “Yeah, Charlie, I know…It’s still not really a good point for me. I like your company, of course, but I’m just not really in a place to get serious…with anyone.” I wanted to make it clear that it wasn’t necessarily personal, although obviously it was. It was very personal for me, and it was kind of personal in that I didn’t think that I could pursue anything with Charlie…personally. But I wasn’t going to be hurtful if I could help it. It didn’t feel necessary.

  When I was younger, before, my mom had once said that ‘no relationships work out.’ When I looked at her like she was the ultimate pessimist, she’d clarified.

  “What I mean, Cass, is that all relationships end, until the one you find that doesn’t. That’s the inherent characteristic of romantic relationships: you try people out and you keep looking until you find someone that fits. But in the meantime, before you find that person for you, the rest will end, and all you can hope is that you take away something from them that turns them from failures into successful learning experiences.”

  So, in keeping with this theory, it was like a narrowing down from bottom to top. The base of the pyramid was all of the unreturned interest that never even got past the initial pursuit; all of the first dates that were turned down. Then there were the things like Charlie and me, where we sort of tried, but it didn’t fit. And so on, until hopefully, you reached the apex and found the right compliment to you and your life. So I knew that this wasn’t the first time that this had happened, and I shouldn’t be feeling uncomfortable for expressing my disinterest in Charlie.

  The problem was that I suspected that this didn’t happen to Charlie often…or ever. Charlie knew what he wanted and then he got it. I was still grappling with determining what I wanted, and that in itself separated us. But regardless, despite his interest, and my desire not to let him down because he just had that effect on me, I was comfortable with my decision. I wasn’t ready to date, and when I was, I suspected that it would be with a different kind of guy. As in, one that didn’t make me feel more anxious around him than I already was when I was alone. Because relationships were stressful enough; they didn’t need to start out with one of the participants feeling a peculiar combination of excitement and dread when they were around the other.

  And I knew that if I were a different person, the qualities about Charlie that made me feel insecure were probably the same ones that would make me thrive. They’d definitely drawn me to h
im. But I wasn’t a different person…or really, that was the actual problem: I was a different person, now. He had made sure of that, and although this wasn’t fair to Charlie, it had been monumentally less fair to me, and that was just the reality. I wanted happiness, and I was willing to work for it, but I also wanted to feel happy in my happiness.

  “Cassandra, I know we’d be good together. I guess I’m just disappointed,” Charlie answered, at least seeming to understand that I hadn’t changed my mind. But I didn’t really know how to continue this conversation, so I was silent for probably a beat longer than wasn’t awkward. “Well, you know where to find me. I’d say we could just hang out as friends, but I want to be more than just friends with you, Cassandra.” It still boggled my mind how upfront Charlie could be, how confident he was that he was able to voice his feelings like this.

  “Yeah. Well, we’re still friends, Charlie. I guess I’ll talk to you later…” It seemed like our exchange had run its course and I was sort of wanting to get off of the phone before he somehow lulled me into changing my mind. Because as sure as I was about my decision, I was equally insecure about my decision-making skills, and Charlie just had a way with words.

  “Alright, it was nice talking. I’ll be seeing you, Cassandra,” he added, right before I hung up. Maybe he would, if we ran into each other on campus or something.

  ✧✧✧

  A couple of weeks into summer, when I’d finally seemed to perfect the art of returning to my hermit-like existence, Kara surprised me by showing up at my door. Knocking before coming in, I figured, well, that was at least progress. Plus, it kind of made me feel good that we were starting to get back to a place with each other that had felt like lifetimes away.

  “Hey Cass,” she said as she sauntered over to my bed and sat down on it. I’d been going through my closet, weeding out clothes that I’d never wear again…and yes, I was clearly bored. “Oh, don’t give that away, I’ll wear it,” Kara said, when she saw the top that I was folding to put on the give-away pile. I tossed it at her.

 

‹ Prev