Melt Like Butter

by Daisy May

  But I couldn’t let his letter go without a response. He’d believed in me when no one else had – maybe even more than anyone ever had in my life. I owed him this much… although I had a feeling I was going to disappoint him like I disappointed everyone else.

  The phone rang once, and then a robotic voice came on the line, asking the recipient if they wanted to accept this collect call. He must have pressed the right button, because his voice came on. “Tyler?”

  The sound of his voice sent a little thrill through me. I’d forgotten what his voice sounded like – slightly deep and very sexy. Hearing him say my name brought me flashbacks of our night together. Seeing him lose his inhibitions and go wild had been such a delight.

  Too bad I was in jail and could never have him again.

  “It’s me,” I said. “I got your letter.” I trailed off, unsure of where the conversation was supposed to go next. Why would he even care about me anymore?

  “Right,” he said. “I’d almost given up on hearing back from you.”

  “I just got your letter yesterday.”

  “I mailed it more than a week ago.”

  “I guess it took a while to get here.” I paused. “Look, they only allow me fifteen minutes on the phone. Why did you write to me?”

  “Is it that much of a mystery?” He sounded almost angry. “You sleep with me and then you disappear, and next thing I know, you’re in jail for dealing drugs. Hang on a second, I’m at work. Let me find some privacy.”

  Once again, I was taking him away from his precious job. Why did he let me do this to him?

  The minute it took for him to find privacy was taking away from our limited time. When he came back, I was upfront. “I made a mistake,” I said. “It seemed harmless, but I shouldn’t have done it. I should’ve flushed those pills straight down the toilet. I just didn’t know where else I was going to get any money, what with Laney and all.”

  “Back up a little,” he said. “Where did you get the pills from? And what do you mean about Laney? What happened?”

  Right, I’d forgotten he didn’t know any of that. I filled him in to the sound of his astonished silence.

  “So what happened to her?” he asked. “Did she go back to the drugs? Or is she in rehab?”

  “I wouldn’t know,” I said. “I haven’t been in touch with her.”

  “You haven’t? How could you not? I’m dying to know what happened, and she didn’t give birth to me. You’re the one who traveled across the entire country trying to find her.”

  “Look, about that, it wasn’t about reconnecting with her, like you still seem to think. I wanted to blackmail her into giving me all the money she had. My plan was to make her feel guilty about abandoning me and see how much I could squeeze out of her. That was all it ever was.” The words flew out of me, and it was like unburdening myself. I’d felt strange about keeping the truth from Andy all this time, even if I hadn’t realized it.

  “Oh,” he said slowly. “I suppose that makes sense. I shouldn’t have thought it would be anything more.”

  I shrugged, staring at the bare bricks on the wall. “Now you know.”

  He probably hated me now, or he would when he had enough time to think about it. “You must’ve still been curious about what’s happening to her now,” he said.

  “Even if I was curious, how would I find out?” I asked. “I can only make calls from here, and I don’t have a number for her. I don’t think the hospital is going to accept a collect call and tell me private information about a patient, and even if they did, she’d be out by now – either somewhere else or dead. There’s no way for me to find her.”

  “Then maybe I should do it for you.”

  “No, Andy. This isn’t about you. I don’t know why you want to force yourself into my life. You’ve done it too many times already. Our connection should’ve ended the day I walked out of your mom’s house. You have nothing to do with me, and you shouldn’t.”

  He’d be better off that way. If he kept trying to “help” me, I’d only drag him down. Look at him – handsome, successful, healthy, motivated. And look at me – a federal inmate. I was being meaner than I was comfortable with, but only for his own good.

  He was quiet for a long moment.

  “If that’s how you feel,” he said.

  “It is.”

  “Well… all right, then. I really just wanted to see what happened to you. They’re not treating you too badly in there? You have enough money on your commissary and everything?”

  My stomach churned. Was he really offering me more money? I couldn’t deal with this man right now.

  “Time’s up,” I said, even though it wasn’t. “I gotta go.”

  I hung up the phone.

  *

  I sat in the prison cafeteria, chowing down on today’s version of mush.

  The friends I had made sat beside me, gossiping about everything that had happened over the course of the day. Apparently, the fact that I had made a phone call was on the list.

  “You never called anyone before,” Mark said. “You have friends on the outside?”

  “Not exactly,” I said. I’d been upfront about how I wasn’t much of a social person and was no longer in touch with my family. “Someone wanted to hear about what got me in here. I gave him the dirt, and now I have no more reason to talk to him.”

  “It seems a little short-sighted, doesn’t it?” Paul asked. “Couldn’t you could get him to help you?”

  “No, not him. If it was anyone else, maybe.”

  “Why not?” Mark asked in a challenging tone. “You used a public defender, didn’t you? If I were you, I’d be begging anyone I knew to get me a proper lawyer.”

  That was true, and it did make me think. If there was any way to shorten my sentence, I’d love to take it. The only person I’d tried calling was Sophie, and she’d hung up on me in anger.

  I’d decided not to bother Greg for now. I planned to hit him up after I finished my sentence. I’d rather have his money so I could go to Acapulco, but he’d never give it to me if he knew I was a screw-up that had landed himself in jail.

  “I’m just going to serve my time,” I said. “It’s not that bad in here.”

  “You must be crazy,” Paul said. “This place is a shithole. I’d do anything to get out of here faster. But then, I have kids on the outside that I haven’t seen in years.”

  I shrugged. I had no kids to worry about, and even if I would’ve rather gotten out of here sooner, I wasn’t going to use Andy to make that happen.

  “It’s true, though,” Mark mused. “As a first-time offender who did a nonviolent crime, you shouldn’t have gotten such a long sentence.”

  I shrugged, taking a sip of juice. I could still get out early for good behavior, and that would have to be good enough.

  As the day wore on, though, I found myself thinking back to their words again and again. I did have a long sentence ahead of me, and I was only wasting time in here. My youth was slipping away before my eyes, and even though two years sounded like nothing when I said it in my head, in reality it was a series of more long, drudging moments than I could accurately encapsulate as a thought.

  And then there was Laney. Andy had gotten me thinking about her, wondering what had become of her. We’d left each other on such bad terms. Why had I even got so mad at her for thinking I was useless? I was. I was a general, all around piece of shit and I knew it. Maybe I’d hoped she’d see me as more than that after what I’d done for her.

  Maybe I’d just been hurt that she’d seen through me so quickly.

  Saving her life had been the one good thing I’ve ever done, and it had only been a coincidence. I’d been looking for her for selfish reasons, and when I’d found her, I’d only done what anyone else would’ve. I made one phone call, and then the paramedics did the rest. I couldn’t really congratulate myself for that.

  So maybe Laney had every right to look down on me. Maybe I was even lower than her.

  D
espite everything, I could still feel the connection between us, and I was curious to know what had happened to her.

  And that was how I found myself at the phone for the second time in one day, dialing Andy again.

  TWENTY-SIX – ANDY

  Somehow I wasn’t surprised to hear back from Tyler. He tended to say things that he didn’t mean in the heat of the moment. As much as he loved his independence, he needed someone to be there for him. He desperately wanted to be an island, but he wasn’t one. Nobody was.

  After I listened to what he had to say, I agreed to help him look for his mother. It wouldn’t cost a cent. Only a few phone calls, and then I’d give him whatever number Laney could be reached at – assuming there was one.

  He tried to say goodbye then, but didn’t hang up, and I knew there was something more. As gently as I could, I asked if there was anything else I could do for him. I half-expected it to be money for the commissary. On all the prison dramas I’d seen, on TV, that was always the most pressing issue for inmates. But no.

  “I know this is a huge thing to ask,” he said, almost in a whisper. “I’d like to have a talk with a good lawyer, if you could help me out. I only had a public defender, and he didn’t put any effort into my case. I feel like my sentence was unfair, considering it was a one-time offense.”

  Sitting in my desk chair at home, I nodded. He did seem to have gotten a raw deal, assuming everything had happened like he said – which I didn’t question. I could tell when he wasn’t telling the full truth, and when he told me the story this morning, he’d sounded completely genuine.

  “I can try to help you out,” I said.

  “I hate myself for this,” he said. “I’ve taken so much from you. Your money, your time…”

  “Don’t worry about it,” I said. “That’s what friends do.”

  “I’ll pay you back when I get out of here,” he said quickly. “I’ve been thinking about it, and I might actually get a job after this. The whole working for a living thing can’t be that much worse than jail.”

  “That’s a big step,” I said, trying to hold back my smile. “And I think you should, but not to pay me back. Consider whatever I gave you as a gift.”

  “I don’t understand how you can be so kind,” he said. “I don’t deserve any of what you’ve done for me.”

  “I don’t know why I’m doing it either,” I said honestly. “The best I can say is that I’m doing it because I like you.”

  “You shouldn’t,” he muttered.

  “Trust me, I’ve tried to stop.” I laughed. “I can’t seem to help it. Call me tomorrow, okay? I’ll let you know what I’ve accomplished.”

  “Okay.” He sounded chastised, or maybe just sad. “Talk to you then.”

  *

  When I told my family what I was planning to do, they didn’t quite understand.

  “You’re giving that man more money?” Mom asked. “After he disappeared out of your life, you sought him out and now you’re going to help him financially again? I have to admit, Andy, I don’t understand why you would do that.”

  “It’s not that much money,” I said. “He’s in jail. He needs the help, and he has no one else to turn to.”

  “For a good reason,” Mom said, eyeing me warily as she sliced into her piece of pie. I’d waited until dessert to bring up this issue. “I don’t trust him. Butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth, just like you said.”

  Jeremy was looking at me funny. He’d stopped harassing me about dating over the past few months and I thought we were getting along better, but that look in his eyes made me want to run.

  “He’s not scamming me,” I said. “I’m giving him the money as a gift. I don’t expect to get it back.”

  “But why would you give a gift to someone you barely know?” Jeremy asked. “You don’t owe him anything.”

  “It’s not about owing,” I said. “I just want to help him. I feel bad for him, and I have the means, so why not try to do something nice for another human?”

  Mom shook his head as she took a bite of pie. “You could do something nice for all kinds of people,” she said. “You could take that money and give it to a charity that helps out young girls, or refugees, or LGBT youth. There are so many people out there who need help.”

  “But I don’t know them personally,” I said. And I’d never brought them to orgasm, I silently added. I wasn’t giving Tyler money because we’d had sex, but there was definitely an intimacy we’d shared that didn’t exist with those nameless, faceless strangers. “I’m not doing this for a tax receipt, okay? I just want to see him out of jail and on a good path. He was getting close before he got sent there.”

  “Was he getting close?” Mom asked. “Because the way you explained it, he was only looking for his mom because he thought she’d give him money. Jail might actually be good for him. Scare him straight, as it were.”

  I didn’t know why, but I was sure I could see a change in Tyler. He’d asked me to look for his mom, so he did care about her. And then there was the fact that he’d mentioned getting a job. That had never even been a question before. I didn’t know for sure if he’d go through with it, but he’d sounded perfectly genuine.

  “Maybe jail is good for him, but he shouldn’t need to stay for the full two years,” I said. “He doesn’t deserve it for what he did.”

  And he deserved to have someone on his team. Someone who believed there was some good in him. Had he ever had someone like that?

  I thought back to the game we’d played in the car. Even he thought there was no good in him.

  “You can do it if you want,” Mom said. “It’s your life and your money. I have to say, though, I think this is a terrible idea.”

  “Me, too,” Jeremy said quietly. “I don’t know why you would do this. You’ve already done far too much.”

  That was what Tyler had initially told me, too. And maybe there was something to it.

  But I was going to help him anyway.

  TWENTY-SEVEN – TYLER

  The next time I called Andy was after work – his and mine. They had me working full eight-hour days in the prison kitchen. I’d hated the job at first. If I’d been on the outside, I would’ve long since quit. Here, they wouldn’t allow me to switch. Slowly, I’d gotten used to chopping food and stirring sauces. Working was actually preferable to the nonstop boredom that was the weekends.

  I called Andy at five-thirty, and the first thing he said was that he was at the gym. “Should I call back later?” I asked.

  “No, it’s fine. I’ll just run into the change room.” There were sounds around him, and I thought I could actually hear the treadmill stopping.

  “So what’s going on?” I asked. “Any luck with the Laney situation?”

  “Yes, actually,” he said. “I called the hospital, and they released her a while back. I found her phone number, and I talked to her. It turns out that she went through a short rehab program, and she’s not using at the moment.”

  My mind flooded with relief. I hadn’t realized how worried I actually was. “You told her you were…”

  “A friend of yours,” he said. “I can give you her number so you can call her, if you’d like.”

  I bit my lip. Did I want to talk to Laney? Yes and no. I needed to apologize to her, even if I wasn’t going to keep her in my life. “Yeah, sure,” I said.

  I wasn’t planning to ask about the lawyer issue. I didn’t want to press him about that – it was a much bigger ask than looking for Laney – but he brought it up on his own. “I found a reasonably priced lawyer in the Oakland area,” he said. “He thought your case sounded interesting, and he might be able to help. You can give him a call anytime.” He read me off that number, too.

  “Thank you so much,” I said. “You didn’t have to do any of this for me.”

  “Don’t remind me. I might just change my mind.”

  I panicked for a moment, and then the note of humor in his voice registered. “No, I don’t think you will,” I te
ased back. “You seem a little addicted to me at this point.”

  “You could put it like that, although God knows why.” He waited for a moment, then asked, “Everything’s okay with you? No one’s picking fights with you or anything? I know you’re in there with a lot of dangerous people.”

  “No, it’s not that bad. Minimum security, after all. Most people in here are white-collar criminals.”

  “Oh, so you’re the badass in there,” he said. “You were dealing drugs on the street.”

  I chuckled. “Maybe that’s why they respect me. My cellmate is in for insurance fraud.”

  “I’m glad things are okay for you. You needed to make some changes in your life, but not like this.”

  “Right.” We had only talked about me and my issues since he’d gotten in touch, and I felt guilty. “How’ve you been, anyway? What have you been up to? Did you manage to find any more interesting things in your life? Probably not, seeing as you’re still talking to me.”

  “No, I haven’t,” he laughed, “and not from lack of trying. I actually started dating again. I swear I’ve been out with half the gays in Harrotsford.”

  A flash of sharp emotion went through me, and it took me a moment to identify it. Was that jealousy? That made no sense. I had nothing to be jealous of – he could date who he wanted – and yet there it was, undeniable. “How did that go?” I asked, trying to keep the strange emotion out of my voice.

  “Not the best,” he said. “There’s plenty of decent men, but none that I really click with. I guess I’ll have to keep trying.”

  “Right,” I said. “Can’t give up. There’s someone for you out there.”

  “Someone as rigid and boring as me, you mean.”

  “Could be.” Or maybe he needed someone who was his polar opposite. How the fuck would I know?

  “Anyway, other than that, everything’s fine,” he said. “Not much has changed. My mom says hi.”

  I remembered my meeting with Celeste and how nice she’d been to me. “Really? She knows you’re helping me out?”