(Mis)Trust

by Sarah Ann Walker

  Shaking my head to clear it, I'm simply winded. There's nowhere to look that isn't messed up. From the kitchen cupboards to my closet, absolutely everything is either upended or broken. My clothes are everywhere, and even my dishes have been smashed on the floor. My absolutely everything has been damaged and I can't even comprehend what I'm looking at.

  "Saige!" Malcolm yells in my face. "Come on, honey, I need you to snap out of this." Out of what? I'm right here I want to yell back but my mouth won't move. "Come on, Saige. Snap out of this," he pushes again squeezing my hands a little tighter against my chest. "Saige, please..." Malcolm begs effectively waking me from my whatever the hell I'm suffering this time.

  "There's nothing left," I choke out.

  "Sit on this chair," Malcolm forces me down.

  Actually kneeling beside me, he talks to the police for me. "The alarm company only alerted her 5 minutes before she called you, and you guys were here quickly. So that's like 10 minutes or so. How is it possible to cause this much damage in only 10- maybe 15 minutes tops?"

  Suddenly feeling almost claustrophobic with this many people in my tiny apartment, I need to get out. "Um, I have to go. I can't breathe with you all in here and I don't want to look at this anymore."

  "Do you see anything missing?"

  Suddenly laughing again, I ask the next obvious question, "How the hell can I tell? I don't even have a floor anymore."

  "Her jewelry box is missing. And her mementos box and her photo albums. Look," Selena points to the area where all my textbooks are on the floor. "The photo albums should be with those books and they're not, and her jewelry box was on top of that book case," she points.

  "Can I please come back in the morning to make a report? Please? I can't even think straight right now."

  "Okay. This is an active crime scene anyway and Detective Mathers is on his way, so give me your contact information and you can leave. I'd like you back here by 9am tomorrow if it’s possible though?"

  "Sure. Here," I start rambling my name and phone number and basically anything else I can think of I'm so desperate to get out of here.

  "Feel like a roommate tonight?" I ask Malcolm without thinking.

  "Absolutely. Feel like sleeping among blue vines and pink walls," he grins to soothe me I think.

  "Absolutely."

  Standing, I practically run from my apartment. I can't look back, and I don't want to see that place again. It was just my temporary apartment anyway. Not quite this temporary, but temporary nonetheless.

  "You can stay with me," Selena offers but I'm shaking my head before she even finishes.

  "Not a chance am I bringing this shit to your door. Oh god, I'm sorry, Malcolm. Do you mind? I didn't even think about the position I was putting you in."

  "It's fine, Saige. Let’s go. I think you're a little in shock right now."

  "Ya think?" I giggle stupidly before crying a little sadly. "Why does this keep happening to me?"

  "I don't know. We'll be back at 9:00," Malcolm speaks to the police.

  "Please be careful, Selena," I cry when she hugs me. "Please... I can't-"

  "I'll be careful," she whispers in my ear. "Plus I still have your Taser and knife at my house, okay? Oh, and I have Dave here," she pulls away smiling. "Go to Malcolm's and sleep. I'll meet you guys in the morning before I pick up Griffin."

  "Okay. Have a good night you two," I try to tease with a wink but it falls so flat I start laughing again a little hysterically.

  "Saige," Malcolm pulls my hand to the opening elevator. Waving bye to Selena, the elevator doors close on everything.

  The silence around me is suddenly so heavy my hands start shaking again, and my heart is pounding so loudly in my ears, I actually cover them with my hands.

  Driving, Malcolm speaks to me sometimes but I'm wordless. I either grunt or nod, but otherwise I have very little to say.

  "Saige? We're home now. Let’s go in, okay?" He asks pulling my hands away from the seatbelt I was squeezing tightly to my chest.

  Standing beside my opened door, Malcolm looks so concerned, I exhale and jump out of his truck too quickly to steady myself on anything but his chest.

  Moaning, I walk numbly when he leads me to enter his home.

  *****

  Standing in Malcolm's living room I don't know what to do. I wasn't exactly prepared for this, and I wasn't allowed to take or touch anything anyway.

  Bursting into tears finally, I cry, "I have nothing to wear," which sounds so stupid under the circumstances, but that seems to be the catalyst right now for this round of hysteria.

  "Come with me," Malcolm insists.

  Walking me to the kitchen he pours me a huge glass of vodka with a little orange juice more for coloring than anything. Lifting the glass to my mouth we both hold it as I drink half down before I gag a little and swallow compulsively.

  With my hand held, I'm walked up the stairs to his room as I watch him pull a t-shirt and a pair of Nike shorts from his bureau.

  "Go change in my bathroom, Saige. You can use my toothbrush if you want to and I'll wait for you out here. Look at me,” he waits for me to look up. “I promise absolutely no one will get to you here.”

  On autopilot, I open his bathroom door and cry some more as I change. The drawstrings on his shorts aren't tight enough to hold them up but the shirt hangs to my knees so I toss the shorts aside before using the washroom and brushing my teeth with his electric toothbrush like he offered.

  Washing my face, I realize how pale I look and I wish things were so different tonight. Remembering Malcolm singing and laughing to the Lumineers, I realize I really wanted to dance with him tonight.

  "Saige? Are you okay?" Opening the door, Malcolm is in pajama bottoms and a t-shirt as well.

  "I'm okay. Just tired and a little freaked out."

  "Come here for a second. Stand here," he says walking to the bureau beside his closet. "If you ever tell anyone this, I'll never forgive you. And yes, I like this one," he grins at my confusion until I gasp when Martin Gore's voice fills his bedroom surrounding us in calm and peace.

  Walking back toward me Malcolm says, "You wanted to dance, so I'm all yours," in the sweetest voice I've ever heard in my life.

  "This is my favorite from this album. You like 'Somebody'?"

  "Yes," he says before taking me in his arms to dance with me slowly in his room.

  Breaking my heart, Malcolm is the most amazing person I've ever met in my life. He is everything in this moment and I can't thank him enough for all his constant kindness towards me.

  Leaning my head against his chest, I wrap my arms around his body as he moves us slowly, shrouded in Martin's magic voice begging to be loved and understood by somebody.

  When the song ends, Malcolm looks at me for something, but I don't know what to give him back for this special moment I'll never have again.

  "Can I sleep with you? To sleep?"

  "Of course you can. Come lie down, Saige."

  Eventually curled up on my side, Malcolm uses the bathroom then shuts off the lights but keeps the bathroom light on and the door slightly open.

  Watching him walk toward me for his bed, I turn on my other side to face him when he settles in. "Thank you for the dance. That was the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me."

  "You're welcome," he leans forward and kisses my head before pulling away. "Good night, wee Saige."

  "Good night, Malcolm."

  Closing my eyes I feel the fear fade and the sadness calm. I hear Martin begging for somebody to love, and I feel Malcolm and his warmth all around me.

  Exhaling my present dark reality, I actually feel peace in this quiet moment with Malcolm.

  CHAPTER 25

  After making the official reports, cataloging missing things and speaking with a very kind and sympathetic Detective Mathers, I was eventually allowed to grab some personal belongings and clothing before leaving, locking, and setting the alarm on my apartment.

  And somehow I'm offici
ally living with Malcolm now. Temporarily.

  He was adamant I stay with him so I felt safe, and really I was just too upset and kind of numb in my apartment to protest. But it is weird to think I met this amazing man nearly 2 months ago and suddenly he's essentially my best friend and I'm a guest living in his house.

  Changing out of my green wrap around dress I had to wear again this morning, I sink down low in Malcolm's awesome huge tub. Calming, I realize I'm no longer sad but more angry that my apartment was destroyed. Feeling pissed that I was just getting things settled until this happened, I'm less frightened than I am irritated that things won't calm down for me.

  Exhaling this morning among the bath salts Malcolm had, I'm looking forward to my afternoon with him. We're starting my door table, and afterward I'm going to his parents’ house for dinner because he insists, I really don't want to be alone in his house, and because I've been invited by his mom as of this morning.

  Malcolm is acting like he usually does, attentive and sweet, and I'm acting the way I usually do, which is freaked out and somewhat quiet.

  Hailey is working my shift tonight and because I'm taking hers Tuesday evening I'm scheduled every day or night this coming week.

  I'm working my ass off this week and I need to. Between my dwindling savings and all the shifts I keep missing, I need to make as much money as I can, and I need to stay focused on school. It's the 2nd week of June and I have just over 2 1/2 months to get my head, and my shit together before I start my future at Harvard.

  *****

  Entering the kitchen Malcolm has his back to me fixing a sandwich on the counter. "I'm making some lunch, you hungry?"

  "Starving, but you don't have to feed me Malcolm. I already feel like I'm putting you out with all the drama all the time."

  "I'm making a peanut butter sandwich. With jam," he grins. "So relax about putting me out. Want one?"

  "Sure, but without the jam."

  Sitting at his breakfast bar, Malcolm looks so relaxed and carefree in his kitchen. Actually, he looks so at home I have to know, "Do you cook often?"

  "What do you think?" He laughs patting his stomach. "Of course I cook. Not well, mind you, but well enough to feed myself. You?"

  "Always. Tyler wouldn't," I stop quickly. I really have to stop with the Tyler shit all the time. "Anyway, I don't cook very well either. I can bake my way out of prison though," I laugh when he turns to me surprised.

  "Really? Do you know how much I love baking?" He again pats his stomach.

  "I can guess," I grin back at him. "What time are we leaving for your parents’?"

  "4. Dinner is at 5:30, so that'll only give you an hour dealing with the mayhem before supper. Then we'll split as soon as we boys tidy up the kitchen."

  "The boys clean up?"

  Turning to me again Malcolm hands me my peanut butter sandwich on a plate. "Every meal. My dad started it when we were little because my mom was exhausted after cooking for the bunch of us. Actually, I was very young, but I remember quite clearly the huge fight they had."

  "They fought?"

  "Yeah. My mom went a little postal on my dad when he placed his dirty plate on the clean counter beside her and turned to walk away after eating one night. Me and Moira could see from our angle at the table my mom picking up his plate and actually throwing it at him. Right down his back," Malcolm laughs shaking his head.

  "Ah, then she started screaming about raising 5 kids, cooking, cleaning, doing laundry, etcetera. As I said she went postal, and then the last thing she yelled was something like he was a lazy ass who couldn't even clean the damn kitchen after everything she did for everyone else."

  "What happened?" I ask laughing at the lazy ass comment.

  "My dad just turned to her all calmly and said, 'Well, why didya no ask me to wash up afta'?' And that was it. My mom punched his arm once and my dad gave her a hug. Then they kissed which was gross for us to watch, and after that my dad always did the dishes after supper. He would even joke that he didn't want to have gravy pouring down his back again if he didn't hop to it quickly enough when he was finished eating. And once we were around 8 years old we had to start cleaning after dinner as well. Almost like an assembly line we washed and dried while my mom had her tea and dessert alone, in the somewhat quiet dining room," he smiles again so sweetly, I can actually picture Mrs. MacNeil having a cookie and tea after dinner to exhale her day away.

  "Your parents seem pretty great, Malcolm."

  "They are. They're fun certainly. And hot tempered often. And even a little too affectionate for us kids," he mock cringes. "But they always loved each other which was nice growing up."

  Picking up his sandwich, Malcolm passes a bag of chips over and asks, "And yours? I know you said your dad cheated, but what were they like before that?"

  "Not like your parents. Ever, I don't think." Musing as I chew I try to remember any affection between them and I come up empty. "My mum hugged and kissed me and Alec always, and my dad even hugged us a little as kids. But I don't remember ever seeing them kiss or hug each other."

  "Maybe they were just more private?"

  "Maybe. But I really don't think so. My mum loved him way more than he loved her, I know that much. I mean she followed him here after spending only one day together at Stonehenge, so I think maybe she surprised him by moving here to be with him. That was always the impression I got anyway. Or maybe it was the things he said when they fought. I don't know."

  "Were they ever loving?"

  "Not really. They spent time with us, and my dad always spent Saturdays with me and Alec. But I kind of have the feeling that my mum was always a little desperate or something for him to love her, or acknowledge her, or to just be a husband to her. So then he cheated the first time and my mum went kind of crazy."

  "How old were you?"

  "12. But they stayed together, kind of. He still lived at the house but my mum was a mess after that. She cried all the time, and got unnaturally skinny, and she did this awful thing with her hair to look younger, but it backfired sadly and she lost her mind even more. She actually looked worse and she was just worse, ya know?"

  "What did she do to her hair that was so bad?" Malcolm asks confused. He's a guy, so he probably doesn't understand women and their hair.

  "Well, she's a natural blonde. Almost an ash blonde, but I guess she thought he might like a brunette better, or maybe the woman he had an affair with was brunette. Again, I don't know why she did it, but she came home without her signature blunt cut and it was dark brown which looked just horrible on her. She ended up dying it back to as normal as they could match 2 days later when my dad told her he hated her hair."

  "He told her that?"

  "Yeah, but I'm sure she made him. Like I said she wasn't all that mentally well at that point," I kind of smirk, but not in a funny way.

  "What happened after that?"

  "She was super paranoid about every single thing he said or did. Like if he was late he was with another woman. Or if god forbid, he went away on a conference she would freak right out. Basically, after the affair she went off the rails- crying and yelling and begging to go to his conferences or begging to go with him every time he left the house. She called him constantly, called his coworkers, and even called the University to check up on him. She eventually went on medication when he threatened to leave her if she didn't stop with all the crazy."

  Shaking his head, Malcolm asks, "And then he cheated again?"

  "Yes. 2 years later. God, I remember that day so well. My mother lost her friggin' mind because it was actually the woman who showed up at our house."

  "No…" Malcolm breathes shocked.

  “Yup. Classy, wasn't she? Anyway, Alec and I were home from school, it was almost dinner, and this woman shows up and says simply, 'I'm Helen. Collin and I have been together for months now. So don't expect him back this evening. Or ever again.'”

  Flinching, Malcolm asks. “What did you do?”

  “I remember the shock
of her standing in our doorway, and my mum's shocked cry as she covered her mouth. I even remember Alec yelling, 'Get the fuck out of here' before he actually closed the door in Helen’s face. But I couldn’t move. I just stood there kind of devastated.”

  “Oh, Saige…” Malcolm takes my hand.

  “I never understood why Helen did that to my mum, or really, why my father allowed it. To this day I don't know why that went down the way it did. Not that my father should've lied, but Christ... He could've left my mum better than that."

  "Then what happened?"

  "Nothing. Everything. I remember that night specifically thinking my mum was going to kill herself. Actually, I was sure of it and so was Alec. So we both slept in her bed right beside her while she cried her eyes out and drank until she eventually passed out. Um, Alec even stayed home from school the next day in case she did something crazy when we weren't around."

  Choking on the memories of my zombie mother, I admit, "I remember being so afraid back then that Alec and I would be left all alone if she killed herself. I was so scared, thinking like a 14 year old that we would have to pay the bills and try to buy food and stuff because my dad was gone. I wasn't thinking about child or spousal support at the time, I was just thinking about my dead mother and where Alec and I would go if we couldn't stay in that house together."

  "And your father?"

  "Did nothing," I cut off Malcolm as his eyes widen. "Really, he left us all that night. I can honestly say my own father walked out on not just my mum but on me and my brother as well. He rarely called us and he never set up visitation or anything. He just left to be with Helen and that was it for the 3 of us. Even all these years later Tyler only met him twice and it was me who set it up. I wanted to see my father those times for whatever reason," I shrug like it doesn’t matter.

  "Saige, he's still your dad. Even if he’s a total prick," Malcolm squeezes my hand when I nod.

  "I know, but it still surprises me that he just left us. I was his daughter, and I was going to follow in his footsteps. And he always bought me Chicken McNuggets on Saturdays," I choke a little laugh.