by Zeia Jameson
You are terrible at communication. Aside from your past, you used to just say whatever was on your mind. But now, getting information is like pulling teeth. You shut me out and that drives me insane.
I miss your smile. I miss your laugh. I’ve only seen either of those a few times in the last six months. I know you are tired and worn thin. Even when you smile with Amelia, it’s not the same smile I remember from the first day I met you.
You left me. And at first, it terrified me. But then, when you came back, I was so mad at you and all I could think was how long was it going to be before you took off again and how I would have to worry if when I wake up every morning if that day was going to be the day that Livy couldn’t take it anymore and just leave. And then I thought, what was the point of living like that?
I know I made a promise to you, to always make you happy. I know I work too much, but I wish you could understand that I’m trying to do this for us. You told me that I’ve broken my promise, and I’m sorry that you feel that way. But, you aren’t my Livy anymore. In this few, six short months, you’ve let whatever issues you have with me and yourself brew and grow and you never once told me that you weren’t ok. You won’t let my mother or anyone else help you to relieve the stress when I’m not here. I know you love Amelia. I see the way you are with her. You are amazing. But you are being stubborn and you want everything exactly your way and it’s not how a marriage works. It’s not how a family works. And aside from letting go of my business when I’m not yet ready to, in order to be here more often, I don’t know how to fix this.
***
40
Livy
Listening to him read his letter, I feel as though Jeremy is belittling me. Like he is shaking his finger at me while mouthing, “tsk, tsk, tsk, shame on you.”
Instead of trying to understand the point he is attempting to make, his words just make me angry all over again. I said all of those things to him, feeling ashamed that I even wrote them on the paper and he didn’t even respond, while I sat there crying, pouring my heart out, begging him to understand my point of view. In return, he stood there as stoic as he’s ever been, with a tight jaw, and read those words to me as coldly as if he were reading a book report about War and Peace. He had no emotion. He made eye contact with me the entire time, never wavering, never blinking. The words he had written on that paper were ingrained into his memory like he had said them in his head a hundred times already. When he spoke his last word, he snapped his journal shut and placed it on the coffee table. He turned around and ran his fingers through his hair.
I straighten my posture, going into defense mode. I sniffle and wipe my eyes of the wasted tears. “So that’s it? I am wrong, you are right? You are the big grown up with the adult job and financial responsibilities that you can’t seem to find any way to walk away from to spend time with the family you so desperately wanted? And I’m the one who is the spoiled rotten child who is throwing the tantrum because I’m not getting my way? That pretty much sums up what you wrote, isn’t it?”
“Livy, that is not the point! Why can’t you stop being so stubborn for two seconds and just understand my side of things for once?”
“And why can’t you do the same for me, Jeremy? Why can’t you understand what I am going through?”
Jeremy huffs, “Jesus Christ, what the fuck was the point of this? These stupid envelopes and directions? How is this helping us?” He walks over to the dining room table and he slams his hands onto it, on each side of the trunk. He peeks in briefly. “This is bullshit.” Then he stands up straight, grabs his jacket that is hanging off the back of a chair and his keys that are by the door.
“Where are you going?” I ask. Jeremy turns to me, but he looks near my feet. “I just can’t believe you said you wished none of this ever happened. Us. Amelia. I can’t believe you’d rather be alone with no one to love you.”
I begin to cry again. “And this is what you call love, Jeremy? Walking out on your wife who just laid all of her cards out on the table and has never felt more vulnerable in her life? You’re just going to leave?”
Jeremy opens the door. “I just can’t look at you right now.” He walks out the door and closes it behind him. I crumble to the floor and sob. My face is turned to the wall where we hung all of the pictures not just half an hour ago. Pictures of two people, smiling. Laughing. I don’t even know who those people are. It’s hard to remember those feelings. It seems like a lifetime ago, or even a life I never lived. Just maybe a life that I dreamed. I notice my wine glass still sitting on the coffee table. I want to pick up the glass and throw it at the wall of pictures that are mocking me while I’m sobbing here on the floor. But I don’t because it’ll just be a mess that I have to clean up.
I hear Amelia stir in the monitor. I have no time to feel sorry for myself. I head to the bathroom first to rinse my face. I look at myself in the mirror and wonder where is the Livy that had no fear? Where is the Livy that never let anyone get to her? Where did she go? The Livy in the reflection before me is afraid of everything. Afraid that she is going to screw up her daughter’s life. Afraid that her husband will leave her or that she will run away from him.
I don’t want to get a divorce. God, even the thought of that word makes my stomach churn. I just want Jeremy back. And I don’t know how to make that happen. This trunk was supposed to help us, but so far it’s only making our situation worse.
I wipe the towel over my face one last time and revert to mommy mode. There’s no time to care about myself, or my marriage, when I have a six-month-old who requires all of me.
***
41
Jeremy
I’m lying on the bed, the softest bed I’ve ever felt, on my side, facing Livy. She is smiling her gorgeous smile. The one that makes her eyes sparkle. I tell a joke but I can’t hear the words coming out of my mouth. But when I finish the joke, she laughs. Her laugh. The one that encapsulates you in such a manner where you can’t help but feel anything but happiness. While she’s laughing, the earth begins to shake. She is still laughing. Why is she still laughing? Am I the only one who is shaking? I do not understand...
“Jeremy. Jeremy. Sweet boy, wake up. What on earth are you doing sleeping in this chair? Wake up!” My eyes are still closed, but I realize it’s my mother’s voice. I open my eyes and finally understand that I’m not in my bedroom, listening to Livy laugh. I am curled up in one of the lobby chairs of my apartment building. And my back hurts so badly. So does my head. What the fuck am I doing here?
I take a second to retrace my steps. While doing so, I acknowledge Mom. “Hi, Mom. What are you doing here?” My sudden recollection of my last actual encounter with Livy makes me jump out of the chair in panic. “Oh God, is Livy ok? Amelia?”
“Ssshhhh. Hey, I guess you had a rough night, huh?”
I smooth out my clothes and rub my head, making an attempt to straighten out my hair. “Yeah. Did Livy call you?”
“No. I’ll explain upstairs, ok? Let’s just get you out of this lobby. You look like absolute shit. I’m surprised someone hasn’t kicked you out on the street or called the cops.”
“Gee, thanks, Mom.” I’m quite surprised by my mother’s language. I must really look like a complete mess.
We head to the elevator and make our way up to our floor. I reach our door and put the key in to unlock it when a thought that I had not yet considered crosses my mind. “What time is it?”
Mom looks down at her watch. “It’s about five minutes until nine.”
I wonder if Livy has up and left again. I am very hesitant to open this door.
“Well go on, then,” my mother says, recognizing that I’m stalling. “What are you waiting for?”
I open the door finally and instantly hear Amelia’s voice. I look into the living room and she is playing on the floor, lying on her back, playing with her feet. Livy is lying on the floor beside her, mimicking Amelia’s moves, looking at Amelia. They are giggling together. This is by far the mos
t adorable and heartwarming sight I have ever seen. It makes me wish I was lying on the other side of Amelia, playing the same game.
“Helloooo,” Mom rings out, lingering the last syllable. Livy sits upright immediately and just as instant, her smile is gone. I witnessed a moment that I wasn’t supposed to see and it was gone in a fleeting second but I wish I could stay in that moment forever.
“Uh, hi,” Livy says, remaining seated by Amelia. She’s checking her hair, as if my mother’s presence suddenly requires her to be perfect.
I expect her to say next something like, “Where the fuck were you all night?” or “How could you just walk out on me like that?” But instead she says, “So you had to bring in your mother as reinforcements? You can’t fight this battle on your own, Jeremy? Are you going to make Rosalie kick me out of my own house?”
Holy fucking Christ she’s gone off the deep end.
My mother looks at me at the same time I look at her. Her eyes go wide, shocked by Livy’s accusation. “I see you two are still at each other’s throats. This all makes sense now.”
“What makes sense?” Livy and I ask in unison.
Mom looks into her large, Mary-Poppins-sized bag and rummages through for a few seconds. She pulls out two envelopes.
“I got these two envelopes in the mail yesterday. The first one was addressed to me and it specifically stated that I was to come here today at 9am.”
“And? What are you supposed to do when you get here, Mom?” I ask.
She pulls out the typed letter from one envelope and reads: “Jeremy and Livy are in much need of some forced time alone together. Please go to their apartment at 9am on Saturday and take Amelia to your house for the weekend. After Sunday, Amelia will remain at your home for the rest of the week, where Maggie has agreed to take over the babysitting duties until Friday.”
“What the fuck?” Livy exclaims.
Mom looks up at Livy and signals that she isn’t done reading: “They may protest you, but you must insist. Inform them that this is part of their instructions for relationship restoration and they must follow all of the rules in order to succeed.”
The trunk strikes again.
“So, you didn’t send us this trunk?” Livy asks Mom. She points to the trunk, still sitting on our kitchen table. Mom looks at Livy and then at me. And then at the trunk very curiously. “No. I didn’t send you anything. What is in the trunk?” I look at Livy to suggest whether we should tell mom and Livy shrugs and looks at me as if saying, “Why not, you are going to tell her anyway.” So, I decide not to disclose. This is business between Livy and me. Well, and the trunk, of course.
“Nothing, Mom.” I side step in between her and the trunk before she has a chance to look in. “It’s just a package that came in the mail with no return address. We haven’t really looked at it much. We just assumed it was from you since you are the most likely candidate to send us something.” I look at Livy and she seems satisfied that I didn’t give my mom all of the details like I usually do. I look back at Mom and she is giving me an arched eyebrow, readying herself to ask more questions.
“Rosalie, will you help me get Amelia’s things together?”
Mom’s stance softens and she turns around. “I most certainly will, sweet girl.”
Livy and Mom spend twenty minutes or so in Amelia’s room packing for her weeklong vacation. I don’t know what the trunk has planned, since I still have to work next week, and probably most of this weekend. Maybe it’s just an opportunity for Livy to get some breathing room. A break that she was too stubborn to ask for herself.
I sit on the floor and play with Amelia until Livy and Mom come back. “She’s looking sleepy,” I say to Livy or whoever wants to listen. “Good,” my mom replies. “Maybe she’ll get a good nap in the car.”
“I’ll change her so she’s good and dry for the ride,” Livy says. While Livy is changing Amelia, Mom finishes up gathering all of Amelia’s one-hundred-thousand items into the dining room. “This may take more than one trip,” she says. I look at her and before I can offer help to take things down, she snaps her fingers at me as if she’s remembered something. “Oh, I am so glad I didn’t forget. There were two envelopes.”
“What did the other one say?”
“I don’t know. That one was addressed to you, Jeremy.”
“Me?”
“Mmmmhmmm.” Mom reaches into her bag again and pulls out another envelope, sure enough, with nothing but my first name on it. She hands it over and I eagerly work to open the flap. Once I have, I pull out yet another letter. This one is typed, but on my company’s letter head. What the fuck?
Dear Jeremy,
I’ve been instructed by a source that you and I trust, but I’ve been sworn to keep anonymous, to tell you the below announcement in writing. I’ve also been informed by this source that failure to send you this letter will result in detrimental consequences on your livelihood. I am guessing this has something to do with you and Livy, or you just working too damn much, but here are the instructions:
You, Jeremy Waters, are not allowed to report to work for seven full days. Specifically, beginning the Saturday that you are reading these instructions, ending the Friday following.
I, along with the help of project leads, Don and Lewis, will run the ship until you return. I promise you that we will care for your business just as you do. We will ensure every facet of this company continues to fire on all cylinders 24/7. Trust us, Jeremy. It is the only way you will truly know whether you can loosen the reigns and finally just be an owner rather than the everyman worker bee.
I swear to you that if there is even a slightest of hiccups, I will call you. We’ve got this. We will not let your business fail. We would never do that to you after all that you have done for us. Just let us do what we do.
Trust us.
I hope you take this time off to reflect about what is really important in your life. Please keep in mind that those important things can vanish in an instant, at any moment. Cherish what you have. Don’t take it for granted.
My best to you, my friend.
Marcus
PS – I am sorry that I forced you to go to Chicago. But I think it is going to be good for us.
I look at my mom and then Livy. “How the fuck am I supposed to stay away from work for seven days?”
“What?” Livy responds. She rushes her way over to me and snatches the letter out of my hand. “Hey, that is my letter,” I gripe. She gives me a dirty look and I back down. Livy proceeds to read the letter. And then she starts to smile slightly, but only briefly. “Well, I guess this would be a good thing if you could actually stand to be around me, Jeremy. It would be nice to have some time alone with you, but you made it quite clear last night how you felt.”
“Livy, stop,” I beg.
“Rosalie, thank you for taking Amelia. It’s going to be hard to be away from her, but apparently the trunk thinks this is going to help somehow.”
“What do you mean, the trunk? Why do you keep talking about the trunk?”
Livy holds up her hand, dismissively and shakes her head. “Never mind.”
Livy grabs her keys. “Jeremy, I am going out. I’m going to give you some alone time. Because you need it. I’ll be back soon. We can’t open the next thing until tonight.” Livy kisses Amelia on the cheek and walks out the door.
“What is going on here?” Mom asks. As much as I want to tell her every weird thing that has happened the past few hours, I decide to just keep this mystery for Livy and me. “I’m not sure I even really know, Mom. But we’ll tell you all about it when it unfolds. If it happens the way it’s supposed to.”
Mom places her hand on my cheek. “Don’t waste your days off. Make the best of them.”
“I’ll try, Mom.”
Mom leaves and I have no idea what to do with myself. I’m thinking about all that’s transpired, and what exactly happened last night and why I woke up in the chair in the lobby. Before I realize I’m doing it, I find myse
lf pacing in my kitchen. I stop pacing and go sit in the living room. Think, Jeremy, think. I place my head in my hands. I remember reading our journals to each other. I remember leaving because I was angry. And then I went to a bar two blocks down where I assume I proceeded to consume quite an amount of alcohol. I know I love Livy. I do. But I just don’t have the same feelings for her as I once did. And she’s not the same as she used to be. Why did it have to change? I even wonder if we’re salvageable at this point. I don’t want her to leave but I can’t live like this anymore. The trunk has a plan, so I guess we’ll continue to give it a shot.
I sit on the sofa for a while and flip through channels to find absolutely nothing to watch. I get up to see if the kitchen needs cleaning. Nope. I go to the bedroom to see if the bed should be made. Nope. I sit back down and flip through more channels. Still nothing. Check the kitchen again. Still clean. The bed. Still made. I find myself in this ostensibly infinite loop for some time. I have to stop. Maybe I should go out. But where? And Livy said she’d be back. But when? Does she even want me here when she gets back? I finally decided to leave, when the door opens. It’s Livy. She’s gone shopping.
“Hey,” I say first.
“Hey,” she says back.
I nod my head up to her and look at the single, small bag she has in her hand. “Whatcha got there?”
Livy sets the bag on the table and lifts out the contents. “Whiskey.”
“What are we going to do with that, Livy?”
“We are going to spend the day drinking it, Jeremy. We are going to relax. Whether we speak to each other or not. We are going to try to exist in the same space until we can open the next envelope. We are going to drink this and either tolerate each other or kill each other. Either would be better than the state we’re in now.”
I look over at the trunk. “Did the trunk tell you to do this?”
“No. Just figured I’d try something on my own. I don’t ever want you to look at me the way you looked at me last night. I’m not sorry for what I wrote, what I said. It is how I feel, sometimes. But you have to know that deep down, on ninety-eight percent of my days, I don’t feel that way. Sometimes, I just get so weak from exhaustion that I have feelings like that. Like I set us up for failure. That I knew I was going to fail, but I did it anyway.”
