by Harper Bliss
“They haven’t been seeing each other that long yet. It’s only been what? Two months or so, but they are at that age and I just…” Janet shakes her head. “Jaden’s not going to tell me or ask any questions about sex if he has any. I’ve asked Jamie to feel him out, but you know, men…”
“Not really,” I say.
“Oh, yeah, that’s right.” She chuckles and I gladly chuckle with her, grateful for the release of tension.
“Do you have any specific reason to believe that Jaden and Brooklyn might be…” I find myself unable to say the words, that’s how hard a time I’m having even thinking about this.
“Nothing specific, just that they’re getting closer… We tried to raise Jaden to have respect for girls, but you just never know, do you?”
“I can try to broach the subject with Brooklyn, but I can’t promise that will go down well.”
“Jeremy’s twelve, which is only three years younger than Jaden, yet it feels like a lifetime of difference.”
“Yeah,” I say wistfully. “It’s such a cliché, but, in hindsight, they grow up so fast. Only in hindsight, though. Those years between my divorce and coming here sometimes felt like they would last forever.”
“Hey, how are you holding up, by the way? I didn’t mean to inject all my anxiety about what our kids might be getting up to into the conversation from the get-go.” She giggles nervously. “Are you coping?”
“Anna and I had only been seeing each other a short while, even though some things happened so fast,” I muse. “I do wonder if I wasn’t too harsh on her, but I don’t really have anything to measure it against. If it had been anyone else, I wouldn’t think that I had been too hard on her, but Anna’s not anyone else. Yet I know she would resent me for thinking that, for believing she needs special consideration when I’m speaking my mind.” I shake my head. “Still, I can’t shake the feeling that I gave up on her too quickly. She did text me only minutes after I walked out. And today, Brooklyn ran into her and Anna apparently asked her to tell me that she was very sorry. But sorry for what? For being who she is? No one should ever be made to feel sorry for that.” I’ve obviously been waiting for someone to ask me how I’m feeling. “Sorry, I’m rambling.”
“Sometimes, when things are too complicated at the start, it could just be a sign that they’re not destined to work out,” Janet says.
“Nah, I don’t believe that. My ex-wife, Eve, and I nearly didn’t get together because things were very complicated back then, and we went on to get married and have a daughter.” I shrug. “We did end up divorced, though, but so many people do.” I look at Janet. “What’s your secret?”
“There’s no secret. That’s the secret.” She chuckles. “I truly don’t know. Maybe Jamie and I just got lucky. Maybe that’s all it is, in the end, when two people stick together. Dumb luck.”
“Wow, that’s actually quite cynical.”
“It’s not meant to be. Jamie and I have had our ups and downs, but it’s never been that hard to get through them. Our children have never caused us any major difficulties.” She taps a knuckle against the tabletop. “Knock on wood. We haven’t had to deal with any grueling losses. What else is all of that but pure luck? Oh, and, let’s not forget that when I look at Jamie, I still think he’s the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen.” A smile breaks on her face. “I read somewhere, quite possibly on some self-help blog, that each person in a relationship should secretly believe they got the better end of the deal. And I do believe that about me and Jamie.”
“That’s really sweet.”
“And just so you know, Zoe, there’s always plenty more fish in the sea.”
“Yeah, sure…”
“Jeremy’s piano teacher is a lesbian and she and her partner broke up last year. I know her quite well. I can always hook you up,” Janet says.
“It’s very nice of you to offer, but really not necessary.”
“I know it’s too soon now, but I just want you to know there are always options. Just let me know when you’re ready and I’ll make it happen.”
“Sure.” I try to sound as dismissive as I can.
“Unless you want to pull a Cynthia,” Janet says. “And fall in love with a man after breaking up with Anna.”
“I don’t think that’s going to happen.” I squint, hoping to read Janet’s face better. I’m suddenly not so sure of her good intentions any longer. Or maybe I’m reading too much into her comment.
“You’ve never been in a relationship with a man?” Janet asks.
“Not really. Never anything serious.” I could tell her the story of the boy I dated in my senior year of high school, but I suddenly don’t feel like sharing too much with Janet any longer. “I’m sorry, but trying to set me up with your son’s teacher a day after Anna and I broke up is very disrespectful of your own sister-in-law. Am I missing something here?”
“What?” She leans backward. “No, of course not. I would have loved for you and Anna to still be together.”
“I didn’t really get that impression.”
“Well, no, because you’re not together.” She tilts her head. “I was just trying to help—trying to say the right thing.”
“Oh damn, I’m sorry. I’m just a little sensitive today. I just hate this. Feeling like this. I wish I could fast-forward to a few weeks from now, when I’ll feel better.”
“Look, in an alternate universe, I’d be sitting here with Anna while she drowns her sorrows about losing you, but Anna and I don’t have that kind of relationship. I’m glad I’m here with you, instead. But it’s not a matter of allegiance or anything like that. Besides, Jamie said he’d stop by her house tonight to see how she was doing.”
“Do you think I should at least accept her apology?” I’m glad to hear that Anna will have her brother’s company tonight.
“Depends what she’s apologizing for, I guess.”
“I’m not really sure, to be honest.”
Janet drinks the last of her glass of wine. “Are you… thinking about trying to make amends?” she asks.
“I really don’t know, but I think I should see her.”
“Don’t you think you should give it some time, for your sake as well as Anna’s?”
“I have no clue, and it’s driving me crazy.” Maybe this is how Anna feels most of the time when she’s trying to control her environment, when she’s trying to quiet that nagging voice of insecurity inside her head.
“I can’t tell you what to do, Zoe.”
“I know. I’ll sleep on it.”
“How about we change the subject and have another glass of wine?” Janet asks. “There’s a spot opening up in the DG High PTA and you’d be the perfect candidate to fill it.”
12
Anna
When the bell rings, I hope it’s Zoe, but I know it will be Jamie. Although I can’t be sure, and a tiny part of me clings to the hope of seeing Zoe’s beguiling face instead of my brother’s familiar features when I open to door.
“Paint delivery,” Jamie says. “I figured you’d be running low.”
I thank him and usher him into the living room. “Is the invoice in the bag? I’ll pay you back first thing tomorrow.”
“Whenever’s fine.” Hemingway sniffs Jamie’s jeans with a lot of purpose, probably because there’s cat hair on the fabric.
While I have plenty of paint supplies in my studio, I appreciate Jamie’s small act of subterfuge. But then we sit in silence, and when even Jamie doesn’t have a clue what to say, I know it’s time to address the elephant in the room.
“Did Jaden tell you?” I ask.
“Zoe did, actually. When she came to pick up Brooklyn last night.”
“Ah, that’s why you called.”
Jamie nods. “I didn’t want you to feel too alone.”
“I very rarely feel alone, certainly not ‘too alone’,” I say.
“I know, but still…”
I get up and fetch us both a beer from the kitchen.
&
nbsp; “Did Zoe say anything?”
“Not to me, but she and Janet had a long chat. In fact, they’re out for drinks together right now.”
“That’s good. That she has someone to talk to about this. I mean, not about me, but, about her feelings, I guess.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
I fill my cheeks with air, then blow it out slowly. “I’d just told Mom and Dad we were dating. Now I have to tell them it’s over already.”
“I can tell them if you like.”
“I don’t want Mom fussing over me as though I’ve just had major surgery and suddenly can’t take care of myself any longer.” I sigh. “I shouldn’t have told them in the first place.”
“So you don’t want to talk about it?” He takes a sip of his beer.
“It just didn’t work out. There’s not that much to say. I wish there was. I wish I could tell you exactly how and why I drove Zoe away, but it’s all a bit vague, even to me.”
He takes another sip. “How are you feeling?”
“Like crap.” Something wells in the back of my throat. “Like I should have known how to do this, even though I’m not completely sure I wanted to be with someone. But I wanted to be with her. I wanted to be with Zoe. I really did. And I somehow screwed it up, and that just royally sucks.” That’s about as eloquent as I’m going to get.
“Do you want to try and find out what you’re supposed to have done wrong?”
“It doesn’t really matter anymore.” I don’t want to feel the way I did last night, when I couldn’t move, and couldn’t find the words that I needed to get Zoe to stay. All I had in me, and that was after she left, was a stupid text message, to which she never replied—for which I don’t blame her, because what was she supposed to say? “It’s done and, in the grand scheme of things, it’s for the best.”
“I saw you with her, Anna. I saw how you were together. How she made you smile and go all soft around the edges. I saw how you looked at Zoe, and I saw how Zoe looked at you, and that’s not nothing. It’s not something to just walk away from.”
“I didn’t do the walking away.”
“Then do the walking back toward her.”
“What’s with all the talk of walking? You’re going to get Hemingway all excited if you keep that up.”
“Anna, come on.”
“I know you mean well, Jamie, but sometimes you’re a bit too much like Mom. You believe that I will only be happy when I find someone to spend my life with, because that’s your reality. It’s not mine. I’m perfectly fine on my own. Sure, I’m sad now, because, well, Zoe’s just… so amazing and beautiful and warm. But she’s also way too direct for me, and too demanding, and she really is rather fond of the sound of her own voice.”
“Why is she too demanding?” Of course Jamie would focus on that.
“Because… she wants things I can’t give her.”
“Oh. Right.” He practically hides his face behind his bottle now.
“Not like that.” Although, of course, that would have turned into an issue down the line as well, I’m sure. “She just… thinks she can waltz into my life and tell me that I don’t accept myself and basically ask me what I’m going to do about that, while, quite frankly, I think I’ve done a pretty good job of accepting myself already.”
“She doesn’t know you that well yet. She’s still operating under neurotypical assumptions. You’ve got to give her some time to adjust. I know it sucks, but you can’t expect people who are not like you to understand you just like that.”
“But I don’t need her to understand me. I don’t need any of this. I don’t need to prove to anyone, least of all myself, that I’m capable of being in a relationship. And I don’t need Zoe to go to any special trouble to try and prove she can be with me. Besides, she’s better off without me.”
Jamie shakes his head. “If you said something along those lines to her, I don’t blame her for walking away.”
“Don’t you start with the tough love as well, Jamie. I can’t take it right now.”
“Can’t you see you’re burying your head in the sand?” Jamie says.
“My head’s right here and I can see very clearly.”
“You’re the one who always says you want to be treated like everyone else, Anna. That you don’t want anyone to go out of their way to accommodate your needs and, worst of all, to pity you. That your diagnosis didn’t change your relationships in any way; it only changed your awareness of yourself. But your relationship with Cynthia did end and now you’re doing the same to Zoe, because you’re so keen to prove God knows what…”
It’s very unlike Jamie to speak to me like this. “You’ve lost me. I have no idea what you’re talking about any longer.”
“I’m talking about you and how utterly infuriating you can be.” He holds up his hands. “I say this with love, Anna, and I hope you know that. But you’re so full of contradictions and you want everything on your own, very narrow terms. It must be hard for you, but it’s difficult for me as well, to see you like this. To see you suffer because another human is trying to find a way in with you, and you’re doing everything you can to sabotage it. You’re even using the one thing you claim to hate the most: self-pity.”
I don’t need my brother to tell me that this is no way to live, even though I believed that I could manage. Zoe came and started to tear down my walls and ask annoying questions, and now I have my brother on my back as well.
Sensing that I’m upset, Hemingway puts his head in my lap. I pet him and the soft touch of his fur soothes me a little, but nowhere near enough to calm myself after Jamie’s little speech. I’ve already forgotten half of it, although the sting it caused in my heart only seems to amplify. The words always go, but the pain always stays.
“I’m not expecting you to say anything right now, Anna,” Jamie says. “I know that’s probably impossible for you. But I’m going to stay here a while longer with you, because I don’t want you to be alone and I want you to know that I’m here for you.” He puts his empty beer bottle on the coffee table. I haven’t even touched mine yet. “Can I switch on the TV?”
I nod and let myself fall back against the couch. I’m glad Jamie’s staying, not because I need the company—I could very much do with being alone right now—but because the act of him walking away from me as well would hurt too much. It would reinforce some truths about myself that I’ve avoided for too long.
He flicks through the channels until he lands on an old episode of Who’s the Boss, which we used to watch together when we were kids. Then I’m not just glad he has stayed, but I’m grateful for the brother he has been to me, before and after my diagnosis. For the brother he was after Cynthia and I broke up, and I pretended I was perfectly fine. When I pretended that us breaking up was in fact what I wanted, while it tore me apart inside. Because I knew I was at war with myself at the time, and I took it out on Cynthia over and over again.
That’s why I’m not angry with Jamie for saying what he just said. I’m thankful that he found the courage to tell me, because no one else ever would—although I have a feeling that Zoe might have done so at some point, if we had made it. Which is probably one of the reasons we didn’t.
“Maybe,” I begin to say.
Jamie lowers the volume, because we don’t need a laugh track in the background right now.
“Maybe I should see someone. Talk to a therapist. Just to sort out some of this mess in my head.”
“I’ll help you look,” Jamie says, then increases the volume again.
“Thanks,” I whisper.
“It’s no bother, coz I’m your brother,” he says, and looks at me out of the side of his eye.
13
Zoe
The next day in the store, I can’t help myself. I keep looking out for Anna. I keep listening for the excited bark of a dog. I keep hoping that she won’t have changed her route, although I know her well enough by now to know with absolute certainty that she will have. I told Janet I
would sleep on it, hoping that the night would bring me some much-needed guidance on what to do about this.
I walked away from her. I said goodbye to Anna. And I believe I did so with good reason, but still. Something gnaws at me and every time I close my eyes, I see Anna’s face on the back of my eyelids. The goofy grin that makes her look adorable but also the anguish in her eyes when she doesn’t know what to say or do. All of this would be so much easier if she hadn’t gotten under my skin already, but she has.
She may be convinced that she’s not an easy person to get to know, but I’ve caught enough glimpses of the real her, the person lurking behind that vast, thick wall of defensiveness she likes to hide behind, to see her for who she really is—or who she could be, if she would allow herself to be. But this isn’t all about Anna. This is about me, as well. It’s about my reaction to her, to her sensitive nature and the way her face would change when she looked at me—really looked at me. It’s about how it pains me that she would think of herself, even for a second, as less valuable than anyone else. It’s simply heartbreaking to witness and I need to decide if it’s something I can live with, or not.
But I’m not like Anna. I’m not someone who likes figuring out all the hard stuff on my own. I need someone to talk to about this, someone who knows how hard it can be to fall for someone like Anna. I need to speak with Cynthia.
Anna won’t like it, but Anna doesn’t like a lot of things. I can’t take them all into consideration all the time. Besides, we’re not even together now.
It’s easy enough to get Cynthia’s number from Janet, to call her and invite her over.
When she arrives, she looks at me as though she already knows what I want to talk to her about, that this is not a simple social call of a Donovan Grove newcomer looking to connect, although it could also have been that.
“I need a sounding board,” I start. “Because I don’t know what to do.” I explain to her what happened over the weekend.
“She told you that I was the one who coaxed her to get assessed and get an official diagnosis?” Cynthia asks.
