by Jason Zandri
Melissa let Donna’s comments resonate for a moment, and then followed up, “I’ve always been upfront and honest, mostly, with Matthew since we met. A few weird things early on and then we said ‘no more secrets’; I’ve come to believe he’s always tried to uphold his end on that. I’ve tried, and I feel like I’ve been successful. It’s not that Matthew can’t be manipulated, but I think it’s difficult to do.” Melissa stepped a little closer to Donna. “You never really answered me. Do you trust Matthew?”
“I did,” she said as a stray tear ran down her face. “If he’s willing to omit telling me something like this, what else is he capable of?”
“I’m not agreeing with what he did, but anyone is capable of making a poor decision. Even Matthew, as much as we hold him up higher because, of the lot of us, he’s like our moral compass,” Melissa said.
Donna sank into the driver’s seat. “I don’t know anything anymore.”
“Are you prepared to end this? To let this be over, given everything the two of you have?” Melissa asked.
“He was my first real love,” Donna said, sounding more upset. “I was so
prepared to give him everything, all of me, everything I am. You ask me if I’m prepared to let this be over? He’s my first love; he’ll never be gone fully from my heart.”
Melissa didn’t know what else to say.
Donna closed the driver’s door, started the car, and drove away.
***
Matthew turned off the lights and shut down the fuel pumps remotely.
Mark and Diane walked out of the backroom office while Melissa re-entered the store.
Mark scratched his head and seemed hesitant to say anything.
“Matthew,” Diane called out as Melissa reached over and turned off the external lights. “Are you going to come back to the house to eat? I want to know so I can figure out how much to prepare.”
“No,” he said. “I think I’ll just head to the apartment.”
Melissa looked sternly at Matthew. Diane tried to catch her attention without saying anything. When Melissa didn’t look over, Diane made her way over.
“I can’t believe you let her walk out of here,” Melissa said, waggling her finger, and then moved over to where he stood, stony-faced.
Diane turned and whispered to Mark, “This is going to have to run its course.”
Matthew opened his mouth to address Melissa, but then Mark spoke up,
“Before you two get started … Matthew, make sure you lock up. I would suggest turning off the rest of the lights and going into the office; if you leave lights on, people come off Route 5 thinking we’re still open.”
“Okay, Dad; I don’t plan on being here long.”
“I don’t either,” Melissa said, watching Diane.
Diane and Mark left the store, and Mark turned to deadbolt the door with his key.
Matthew watched his father and Diane move away from the door, then made his way toward the office.
“Don’t walk away from me,” Melissa called out, angry.
“Don’t take that tone with me,” he said. “You have something on your mind and want to discuss it, that’s fine; we’ll do it in the office like my father suggested.” Matthew walked down the hall toward the office with Melissa following close behind.
“I can’t believe you,” Melissa said, trailing him into the office. “Let’s
work backward; you let her walk out of here. How could you do that?”
“It seems evident to me that she wanted to leave. I learned a long time ago that when people want to go, they’re going to go. No matter the closeness of the ties that should bind, if they want to leave your life, they will.” At the desk, Matthew turned around to face Melissa.
She paused for a moment, thinking about his comments, and then her face lit up when the penny dropped. “Your mother,” Melissa said softly.
“Matthew, look.” She took a step closer. “I can understand your feelings; between what you shared with me and the fact that my father chose not to stick around. Donna is not your mother. I don’t treat boys tentatively because my father never stayed.”
“Perhaps you should consider it,” Matthew said. “Have any of them stayed?”
“No,” she said. “And, to be quite frank, they’re losing out more than I am.
I have a lot to offer someone, the right someone, and I’m glad that if they decide they want to move on, they do. I don’t want to waste everything I have to offer the special people in my life on someone not so deserving of it.”
Matthew spent a moment in quiet thought, and then looked away from her. The two stood in silence for a few minutes, before Melissa stepped a little closer again.
“Matthew.” She reached over to take his hand. “Would you really do the same thing all over again? The same way? I think that’s the other part of this that is bothersome for her. She’s telling you this was a big transgression, and when she offered you an opportunity to do at least a theoretical do over, you indicated you wouldn’t do it differently.” Melissa squeezed his hand. “You didn’t even hesitate; I know that’s your style, to take swift action and damn the consequences, but today the consequences were Donna’s feelings.”
Matthew pulled his hand away.
“I know you have difficulty with how you feel; it’s okay,” she said.
Matthew cut her off, “Would you be so understanding? If you asked something of me, something you needed help with, and felt I was the only person you could turn to, and I took the time to check in with my girlfriend, and she insisted I didn’t help you? That I made her uncomfortable? I don’t believe you’d understand; you would want to, but I would expect you to say,
‘Matthew, I need help and you’re the only one I can trust.’”
“You didn’t give Donna the chance to say yes,” Melissa said.
“She also could have said, ‘no.’ Then, if I helped, I’d have full
foreknowledge of my transgression.”
Melissa thought about his words, and then said, “Do, and ask forgiveness later, rather than permission first?”
“Something like that,” he said.
“So are you going to do that? Ask for forgiveness?”
Matthew turned back toward her. “I’m trying to decide what to do; I don’t feel like I did anything wrong in helping Liz. Maybe in not clearing it with Donna first, but we’re supposed to trust one another; if she can’t trust me to be there for one of my friends, then maybe I didn’t have what I thought I did with her.”
Melissa leaned on the desk beside him.
“If it was me, if you and I were together, would you have told me first?”
“Probably,” Matthew said. “I still wouldn’t say why or what, but I’d likely let you know first.”
“Why me and not Donna?”
“Because of our history—our time together. You wouldn’t tell me not to help Liz,” Matthew said softly. “Despite how little you like her.”
“And do you believe she would?” Melissa asked.
“I believed she might have, and then I’d definitely have an issue, because she would have wanted me not to help Liz, and she’d be upset that I did. She would also be upset I did so knowing what her feelings were on the matter.”
Melissa leaned a little closer to him. “You do realize you’re trying to justify being underhanded about this?”
“I never said I was proud of the way I went about it,” Matthew said, raising his voice slightly. “I took a gamble that this would allow me to do what I felt needed to be done, to support and help a friend, and not be any messier than it needed to be.”
“So, now that you have an issue, and a bit of a mess, what’s your plan?”
Melissa asked.
Matthew turned and tipped his head to the side. “I’ll give her the evening to cool off, and will give her a call tomorrow to try to go forward from there.”
Melissa smiled a little and nodded.
Matthew moved to step away from the desk.
“Are you going to call my sister and stop at home, or are you going to go to the apartment?” Melissa asked.
“Probably just go to the apartment like I said.” Matthew reached for the
office door. “Why would I call Diane?”
“She was going to make dinner; she always makes you something and sets it aside for you.”
Matthew smiled. “Yeah, she does that. I think I’ll just make myself a sandwich here, and then go.”
Melissa stepped away from the desk and went over to the door ahead of him. “Turkey, lettuce, tomato, mayo … American cheese … right? I’ll make it for you.”
“Yes,” Matthew said with a smile. “I never realized you paid attention to the way I liked my sandwiches.
Melissa smiled and stepped down the hallway.
***
At Donna’s, Matthew pulled his van alongside the curb and shut off the engine. He stepped out of the van and unzipped his jacket halfway.
Once he got to the front porch, he leaned in to ring the bell at the front door, but Donna opened it before he got the chance.
“Hi,” she said, through the storm door.
“Hi,” he said with some forced conviction in his voice. “I hoped we could talk … iron things out from yesterday.”
Donna nodded and exited the house.
“Don’t you want to get a jacket?” Matthew asked. “The sun’s warm but the air’s still cool.”
“I’m fine,” she said quietly. “I figured we’d go and talk in the van. We’ll have some privacy in there.” She looked back at the house.
Matthew stepped closer to Donna, and she stepped away to maintain her distance from him. When the two got to the van, he tried to step forward to open her door, but she reached for it.
Matthew cross-stepped, headed around to the driver’s side of the van, and got in.
“Are you warm enough?” Matthew asked, putting the keys into the ignition but not starting the engine.
“I’m fine,” she said.
“Look.” Matthew turned in his seat. “What we have, you and I, this, is …
important to me. I don’t want to let this other situation ruin everything.
Senior year, so far, has been a great year for me, and a lot of that has to do with you just being with me.”
Donna looked up with tears forming. “If that’s true, how could you try to
do something like this? Something behind my back? Something that would make me question the trust we have?”
Matthew breathed in deeply. “I made a mistake. A mistake that I’m sorry for. I thought it was the trust we had that would grant me the latitude to do this and have you understand. If Marie came to you—”
“It wasn’t Marie; it was Liz,” she said. “If Marie came to you and said,
‘look, Matthew, I need help with something and I need you not to tell anyone,’ I would feel better about it because even if you kept her confidence, I know if I really needed to, I could press her, and she would tell me.”
“That’s what I don’t understand,” Matthew said. “If you completely trust me, there’s no need to know whatever private thing Liz wanted or needed. It should just end with ‘I trust Matthew.’”
“It might have ended with that if you’d said something first, but now I’m questioning everything,” she said as the tears broke away and rolled down her face.
“I’m confident that if I had mentioned this beforehand, it would have been met with the same reactions I’m getting now, but for different reasons,”
Matthew said.
Donna wiped her face. “Meaning?”
“If I came to you first, you’d want to know for the position of having something over on her, assuming you could get me to divulge it. It would have less to do with trusting me and more of just wanting to know. Now, not only do you not know, but you have this feeling of something Liz and I shared, and in your head it’s like this special little thing. Believe me, it’s nothing of the sort.”
“If you want to fix this, I need you to tell me,” she said, wiping her face to clear her tears, and then sitting upright. “You’re going to need to show me, prove to me, that there’s nothing to hide and that everything is, in fact, above board.”
Matthew looked past Donna and to the front of the house, where her mother and sister were. The two stood just outside the front door. He exhausted almost all of the air in his lungs and finished with, “I can’t; I gave my word.”
“We have a bond, as a couple, which goes beyond that word,” she said in desperation.
“Nothing goes beyond my word to someone,” he said, and closed his eyes while he remembered something his father had once said to him: ‘You have
your back and your word; don’t break either for anyone, ever.’
“Then I don’t believe we have much more to say.” Donna opened the van door. “I hope that whatever it was, whatever secret you’re protecting, was worth it to you because no one else would pay a cost like you would. The price was our relationship and my trust in you; you’ll never have either again.” The last words came out high-pitched and squeaky, and then she lost all of her composure. Donna darted from the van and ran toward the house, crying uncontrollably.
Matthew jumped out of the van but stopped short. He’d never catch Donna before she ran all the way to the house, and he assumed it would only make things worse. Marcie came down the driveway. Donna ran past her to their mother, and Marcie continued on to Matthew.
Matthew stood still and prepared himself for whatever she was going to say.
“Look, Matthew,” Marcie said, stopping short and folding her arms. “I’m going to give you some advice; you can do with it whatever you see fit.
Those Wellsworth girls? They’re nothing but trouble. I can’t say I know Liz well enough, as she’s closer to your age, but if she’s anything like her older sister, Pam, then you’re in for nothing but trouble, headache, and if you go that route, heartache.”
“I’m not inclined to be with Liz romantically; that wasn’t what any of this was about. The reason I came here was to reassure Donna of that. That became ‘convincing’ her of that, and now I guess it just doesn’t matter. My bed is made; I’ll lay in it.”
Marcie nodded. “You were a nice boy, nicer than any of the others she went with, or even ones I’ve gone out with. I hoped you were different because I saw just how hard she fell for you, and how you seemed to be so genuine.” She turned and looked back at the house, where Donna sat crying on the front stoop with her mother. “I guess it goes without saying that there’s just no trust or honor among young men these days; no matter the reason, they simply refuse to do right by who they’re with, or the right thing in general.”
“It’s too bad you think that,” Matthew said and backed away. “I never took you as the judgmental type, but the bigger shocker to me is the hypocrisy.” Matthew opened the driver’s door and stepped up to look over the front of the van. “You speak to me about lack of honor and doing the right thing; I was here to apologize, which I did, to own up to what I did,
which I did, and to try to make amends, which, honestly, I could not. I can’t do what she asked, and it’s because of honor, which you assume I don’t have, that keeps me from divulging the details she wants. I gave my word; I won’t break it. But what do you know about that? You told your parents you’d supervise your sister the night of Homecoming, and instead you left her home alone with her boyfriend while you were out with yours.” Matthew stared her down for a moment, and then finished, “Pot, kettle, black.”
Matthew slipped into the van, pulled the door closed, and started the engine. He looked past Marcie to Donna on the front steps one final time, and a lump formed in his throat. He put the van in gear and drove away.
Once out of the neighborhood, he made his way over to Dag Hammarskjold Middle School, pulled the van to a stop, and shut off the engine. He sighed loudly and took a quick look about. Seeing no one around, he put his hands together on th
e steering wheel and lowered his head.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Melissa walked into the kitchen and stood next to her sister at the sink.
She looked out the window and watched Matthew move about the back yard with the fertilizer spreader.
“Isn’t it a little early for him to be putting down fertilizer?” Melissa asked quietly.
“First week of April; as good a time as any. There’s some rain coming, and it’ll distribute it to the roots.” Diane shut the water off at the sink, and the then turned toward her sister. “But I somehow don’t believe you came here today to talk to me about lawn care.”
Melissa smiled. “What time is Mark coming back?”
“He ran to the hardware store. He didn’t say when he’d be back, but when he goes, he gets to talking to folks in there and can be hours. I told him dinner would be ready for five.” She took a seat at the kitchen table. “Do you know if Mom’s coming?”
“And run the risk of missing out on the wedding discussions for two weeks from now? Not a chance; she’ll likely get here for three.” Melissa sat across from her older sister.
Diane said nothing initially to see if Melissa would offer her thoughts on her own. When she didn’t, she decided to prod the conversation. “Matthew isn’t mad at you, you know. He’s just upset at how this all worked out. He feels bad that things went sour with Donna.” Diane leaned forward.
“Well, he’s coming across as upset, Di. He hasn’t talked to me in two weeks. I could add all the time up, and there isn’t a stretch of time back to fifth grade when he’s been so upset with me.”
“It’s like I said, he’s upset with the way things worked out; it’s not you.”
Melissa fidgeted with the napkin holder on the table. “Then why won’t he talk to me?”
“Because, like most men, he’s not as in touch with the way he feels as he should be,” Diane said softly.
“He’s adept enough at reading people, and understanding how they feel and so forth,” Melissa said.
