by NM Facile
The night passed in beeps and shaky breaths. Both Mary and J. P. stayed in Jen’s room. An unspoken agreement passed between them to sit there silence. They sat on the same side of the bed, Mary in a chair near her mom, and J. P. in a recliner in the corner. Mary held her mom’s hand on and off, watching for signs of her return to consciousness. The physical contact of Jen’s hand helped Mary stay focused on her mother. Mary reached for it whenever she caught herself slipping into grief.
She silently chanted to herself: stay strong, get through the night, one more breath closer, and another. She watched her mother’s chest gently rise and fall, while all the while she felt the pain raging through her own.
By the time her mother’s eyelashes began to flutter and her hand twitched, Mary was beyond tired. Her head throbbed and her muscles ached from sitting for so long. Mary attempted to smile, and hoped that Jen was drugged enough not to notice that her daughter was eaten up by torment and dread.
“Mom.” She slid her chair closer. Mary’s voice was hoarse from holding back the sobs all night.
J. P. rose and joined them by the bed, reaching for Jen’s hand. Mary pulled her own hand back slowly, letting them have a moment.
“It’s good to see those eyes again, love.” The love and concern in J. P.’s voice overwhelmed Mary. It was clear that his world revolved around Jen’s happiness and well-being. Her mom was lucky to have him there. Mary now knew firsthand how it felt to have your world ripped away, and she hoped it was something J. P. would never have to experience.
Jen was conscious for no more than a few moments before she was drifting out again. The nurse came in to check all the machines, and Mary and J. P. took the opportunity to stretch their legs in the hallway. J. P. took a good look at Mary.
“Let me call someone to take you home. You’ve been here all night after flying in yesterday. You have to be exhausted.”
Mary looked up at him under her lashes, “That bad, huh?” She couldn’t even muster up a smile.
J. P. nodded. “I’ll get some rest here on the chair, but you should go. If nothing else, at least go home and take a shower and try to relax a little. I’ll call you if anything changes.”
Mary saw the concern in his eyes. It was much like the concern she saw when he looked at her mother. He was looking out for her, too, she realized. Mary slipped back in to tell her mother goodbye before going down to the main doors to wait for J. P.’s friend. The sunlight warmed her as she took in deep breaths of fresh air. She just had to hold it together a little longer, just a little longer.
J. P.’s friend attempted conversation, but Mary didn’t have it in her to reply. She answered his questions about her mom, and then closed her eyes, so worn out that she drifted off.
She dreamed of Ty on the stage in the bar: one long leg outstretched as his long fingers seductively played across the strings; his black t-shirt snug across his shoulders; his thick black hair, twisted and wayward, framing his face; his dark eyes meeting hers. Her heart raced and her breath stopped in anticipation. His voice was low and raw, creating an ache throughout her whole body. Dream Mary was so caught up in the perfect illusion of Dream Ty that the words of his song didn’t register until consciousness began to creep in. In that hazy, half-awake state, the tears slipped down her cheeks. He had been singing a song by the band Morphine to her, it was a haunting melody telling her that he was never going to see her again.
Mary found her bags in Jen’s foyer. She wearily dragged them through the house, into the room that was to become hers. She dug through them for her charger and plugged in her cell phone. She longed for a shower and a change of clothes, but first she opened her laptop. She logged into her mother’s Wi-Fi and searched for Ty’s name. Hit after hit came up, telling her the same thing: Ty had been shot when the police raided what they referred to as the choke point: the point in the chain of distribution where drugs were moved from a cartel or trafficker to the one who supplied them to various gangs. Ty was reported to be that supplier.
Ty’s lies and secrets, the convincing way he insisted he wasn’t dealing anymore, began to make sense. He wasn’t dealing, he was supplying dealers. Even the conversation she had overheard him having with Dom made sense. Dom wanted to be part of it. Is that why Dylan was there? How could Ty even think of dragging that boy into something so dangerous?
Mary found herself becoming increasingly angry. Ty must have been one hell of an actor to have pulled off that whole ‘I just want redemption for my past sins’ act so convincingly. Mary had truly believed that he regretted it all, and wanted a different life. That he would make that life with her. Had he been laughing at her the whole time? How easy it had been to fool her, a stupid small-town girl. It had all been a lie, nothing more than a cruel lie.
Mary shut her laptop, letting out all the anger and hurt as she shouted, “Ty Jaden, you son of a bitch, you LIED to me! You let me fall in love with you, then you lied to me and now you’ve LEFT me!”
Angry tears fell and Mary swiped at them, hating how her heart ached. She stared blankly out the bedroom window, hurt raging through her.
For the next few days, Mary focused entirely on her mother. She stayed at the hospital, going home only to shower and catch a few hours of sleep. Her mom was recovering well, and would soon be transferred out of the ICU and into a normal unit. Neither Jen nor J. P. could understand Mary’s obvious stress. She barely ate, she never wanted to leave the room, her eyes were tired all the time and the lines between her brows deepened. Both tried unsuccessfully to persuade her to go home and take a break. J. P. finally drove her home and left her there, taking all the keys with him and insisting that she get some rest. Mary hated being there alone. At least at the hospital she had something to keep her distracted, but when she was alone she thought of Ty. She wandered through the house aimlessly. She didn’t want to think of him. She wanted to stay angry. When she was angry it was easier to keep the anguish at bay.
Mary knew that she should return some calls and texts, but instead she decided to get the sleep everyone said she needed. Even as tired as she was, it didn’t come easily. She resorted to rummaging through her mother’s medicine cabinet, knowing she had sleeping pills in there somewhere. She downed them, and raged inside her head until sleep took over.
She woke, hours later, to the sound of her phone singing out Faith’s ringtone. She groggily answered, eager to hear the sound of her friend’s voice. She missed Faith, even the ‘I told you so’ Faith she knew would resurface eventually.
“Mary. Wow, I had almost given up on getting an answer from you. What’s going on?” Faith had every reason to be exasperated.
“I’m sorry. I know. I just needed some time.” Mary sat up in bed and pushed the hair from her face, trying to wake up.
“How’s your mom doing?”
“She’s getting better. I think she conspired with J. P. to trap me at home until I get some rest.”
“LOL sounds like her.”
“Did you just say ‘LOL’?” Mary cracked her first real smile in days.
“NO! Well, maybe I did. I’m used to communicating with you through text lately.”
“I know, I’m sorry.” Mary was quiet for a few seconds. She had to ask the question that she had been dreading. “When’s the funeral?”
“I haven’t heard anything. Did Ty have any family? You never mentioned them.”
“I’m not sure if he had any family left. If he did, I don’t think he had contact with them. What about Sandra Henri, the owner of Dee’s? The Henris were probably the closest thing to family he had.”
“I don’t know. Jack hasn’t said anything. Do you want me to call them?”
“No, I will. I want to check on Dylan.”
There was a lag in the conversation. Neither girl knew where to tread.
“Mary, how are you doing? I mean seriously. How are you?” Faith asked. Mary could hear the concern in her voice.
“I’m angry. That’s how I am. How could he, Faith? How
could he lie to me? How could I believe him?”
“Mary, I never thought I would be the one to say this, but have you thought that maybe there’s more we haven’t heard?” Faith was hesitant about asking it, but it needed to be said.
“What more could there be? He may have quit dealing but he was still involved with it. The news articles said he was a supplier. That is exponentially worse than dealing.” Mary was working herself up again.
“Jack said he thinks there is more to this than we know. I don’t know, Mary. I don’t know what to say.”
“There is nothing to say, Faith.”
“Yes, there is. I know he hurt you, but I also know how you felt about him. That alone says there must have been some redeeming quality about him. And he obviously loved you; it was in his eyes every time he looked at you.”
Mary had nothing to say to this, so the silence returned.
“When do you plan to come back? Will you come back for a funeral?”
“Yes.” As hard as it would be, she needed to say goodbye. As long as she stayed in Florida it wasn’t real. She would need to go back eventually.
“Mary?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s okay to grieve for him.”
Mary’s heart cracked.
“Thank you.”
They ended the call and Mary took a few breaths before calling Dee’s. Neither Sandra nor Dylan was there, but she was given a number where she could reach them. Sandra passed on her sympathies, but was unable to help Mary find out anything more about what had happened to Ty’s body.
“How is Dylan?”
“He is mending. He was hit in the leg and upper arm. He blames himself for Ty’s death.” Sandra paused and Mary heard the ache in her voice. Ty’s secrets were affecting more lives.
“What was Dylan doing there?” It was a question that haunted her.
“He says he followed Ty. The SWAT team showed up just after Dylan arrived. It wasn’t the police who shot Ty. It was the men he was meeting. They accused Dylan of bringing the police, and fired at him. Ty saved Dylan. He took that bullet and saved my baby.”
Sandra let out a sob, and Mary’s heart hurt along with her. She had no words of comfort. Her heart ached for Sandra, but she couldn’t let it ache for Ty. If he hadn’t been there, then neither would Dylan. There was no need for either of them to be shot.
Sandra sniffled and added, “Dylan has something he would like to tell you.”
There was a shuffling and a muffled voice before Dylan came on the line.
“Hey, Mary,” the chipper tone Dylan usually exuded was missing.
“Hey, Dylan, how are you doing?” Mary tried for upbeat, but it was artificial even to her ears.
“Good. I’m headed home in a day or two.”
“That’s good.”
“Yeah, I guess.” The amount of excitement in his voice was nil. “I just feel so bad about Ty…”
“Dylan, it’s not your fault.” Mary didn’t know what else to say to him.
“Yeah, it was. It was supposed to be me. I’m the one who the police followed.”
“That’s silly, Dylan, why would the police follow you?” Of all the ridiculous statements Mary had heard, that had to be one of the most.
“I don’t know, but why else were they there? Right after I went in, the police showed up. It had to be me.”
“I’m sure it wasn’t. I read that there had been a long investigation. For all we know they were following Ty.”
Had they been? The thought hadn’t crossed her mind before, but now she wondered. Was that why Ty had wanted her to run away with him? Did he know what was coming?
“He said…” Dylan paused, and Mary sensed how painful this was for him. The poor kid had been through so much. “He said to tell you he’s sorry. He’s sorry and he loves you. I’m so sorry, Mary. I’m so sorry I went in there.” Dylan’s voice cracked as Mary’s own tears started.
“Dylan, Ty went in there of his own free will. He made that choice, not you. Thank you for telling me. Go rest up. We have a football game to go to, remember?”
Dylan’s words played over and over in her thoughts. Ty loved her. He had never told her that, but he had wanted Dylan to let her know. He had been thinking of her as he lay hurt and bleeding, as he lay dying.
J. P. hadn’t heard from Mary in nearly twenty-four hours, and he hoped the time span was due to her sleeping. The girl couldn’t possibly last at the rate she had been pushing herself. She looked terrible, too. Jen was improving every day, but Mary seemed to be fading in front of them.
He came home to check on her, thinking he might find her sleeping, or having something to eat. He didn’t expect to find her sitting on her bed, crying. He wasn’t sure what to do. She had never allowed him to become a father to her, but his heart broke to see her in such distress.
He sat on the bed near her feet. She looked at him, but didn’t say anything. He recognized the emotions he saw in her eyes. He knew what it was to feel anger, guilt, and hopelessness.
“Mary girl, what’s going on?” he asked her, brushing her hair from her face as she rested her head on her knees. “This isn’t about your mom, is it?”
Mary just bit her lip and shook her head as her eyes renewed the tears. What could she tell him? The truth?
“Is everything okay between you and Faith? Is it work related?” She shook her head. “Is it a guy?” Mary hadn’t said anything about a man in her life, but he wasn’t going to rule it out.
Mary nodded her head slightly.
“I see.” J. P. wondered what he had stepped into. “Did he break up with you?” J. P. was trying; if only she would do more than just shrug. “Is it because you came down here? ‘Cause if that’s it, he isn’t worth it anyway.”
“It’s not.” At last, she said something.
He prompted her. “Then what was it?”
“He’s dead. He died the night of Mom’s surgery.” A look of shock crossed J. P.’s face. “I found out after the surgery, when I called Faith.”
J. P. couldn’t even begin to imagine the torment she must have been going through that night. To learn about the death of someone who obviously meant something to her, as she sat and waited to see if her mother would be taken, too?
“Was this someone you loved?”
She sat back and looked hard at J. P. “I did.”
“Do you still? Just because a person is gone doesn’t mean you stop loving them.”
“I don’t know. I did, but now I don’t know. I’m so angry with him. He lied to me, kept his secrets and he was killed because of them.”
J. P. was alarmed by her use of words. “Mary, are you in any kind of danger?”
“No. No danger. I promise you.”
“I think you’d better tell me what’s been going on.”
Mary gave a dry laugh, “Get comfortable; it’s going to be a long story.”
J. P. was even more at a loss when she finished her tale. Drugs, gangs, shootings. He was conflicted, afraid that Mary didn’t fully grasp the danger she could potentially be in.
“This is tragic, Mary, and it’s going to be hard, but someday you will get through it. I promise you. You have us here, and Faith in Minneapolis, and all of us care so much about you.”
“How do I go back there?” As she said it, she realized that she didn’t want to go back.
“Don’t. Come live with us. Your mom is going to need you and you are going to need her.” He watched the thought flicker through her mind. “Please, Mary. Come live with us. You can find a job here, and eventually get your own place. Your mom needs you.”
J. P. knew which buttons to push. Mary would bend over backwards to help someone who needed her, especially her mom.
Mary played with the idea for days. It was hard to think of leaving Faith. Mary would be returning to the Cities soon, as Sandra was planning a memorial service for Ty. She would talk to Faith about it then. Mary’s mother was improving as expected, and had been told about Ty�
��s death, although it had been a toned-down version of the story. It would only be a few days until she was allowed to go home, and she insisted that Mary should go back.
Faith met her at the airport as she had almost a year before. What a crazy year it had been. The girls hugged and cried, and spent the rest of the day and night together making up for the days apart.
“Faith, I’m thinking about moving to Florida,” Mary said quietly, as they ate a late breakfast the next morning.
Faith nodded sadly. What would she do without Mary?
“You could come with me. They need nurses in Florida, too.”
Faith thought it over, but there were too many things holding her back. She loved her job. She had even come to like volunteering at Safe Works, and had been spending more time there since she’d already chosen a new paint color for it and had a line on new furniture for the clinic. She had made some friends at the hospital and with some of the volunteers at Safe Works, and Jack had come to rely on her. Karen and Jack were scrambling to find new sources for their funding, now that the news had broken that the Raylyanu family – Safe Works’ biggest sponsors – had been supplying heroin to the Cities for years. Faith just couldn’t leave now. Her life was in the city.
“What about your job?”
“I’ll put my notice in. My mom needs me right now.” They both knew that there was more to it than that, that staying in the Cities, with visible reminders of Ty everywhere, would be too painful.
“You should go. You can always come back.” Nothing more was said about it.
A feeling of numbness carried Mary through the memorial service. It wasn’t anything formal, as there was no body to bury. Ty’s relatives had claimed him and left no contact information. Instead, people who had known Ty shared their memories of how he had touched their lives. Their stories painted the picture of a man who stayed out of the spotlight, gave freely, and asked nothing in return. It was the man Mary always suspected Ty to be.
Chloe spoke about Ty putting a stop to her pimp’s beatings and ensuring that she left him. Sara, Ty’s former girlfriend and now the frazzled mother of an active little boy, reflected on how Ty had tried to help her change her life, but how she hadn’t been ready to grow up when he was. She expressed her thanks for the financial help he had given her from time to time for her son’s extensive health care. Others told of Ty buying meals or other necessities for them when he knew they were struggling, but doing it in a way that didn’t feel like charity. Mary wondered how he could do all that for others, when all he did for her was keep secrets. It wasn’t until Dom took her aside and reminded her that Ty only ever wanted to keep her safe that she began to let it all sink in.
