The Trouble With Paper Planes

by Amanda Dick

  She was right, I suppose. It didn’t really fit with Bridget’s hippy persona, but it was still her. The white weatherboard villa was pure elegance, even down to the white picket fence and the white standard miniature roses lining the driveway. In the dark like this, the villa had a type of quiet grandeur, with its bay windows and grey corrugated iron roof. I had helped her plant the gardens that framed the house myself, mostly in old roses. Bridget loved roses.

  “Are you sure you want to come in?” I asked, unclipping my seat-belt. “You don’t have to. You can stay here if you want. In fact, it might be better if you do.”

  “I want to come in,” she said firmly, reaching for my hand and enclosing it in hers. “I’ll be okay. Maybe it’ll help if I’m there? He doesn’t know me.”

  She didn’t know Alex like I did. Like we did, Bridget and I. He’d been in a bad enough state in the pub earlier. God only knew what he’d be like now, a couple of hours later. I’d assumed he’d gone back to his place to lick his wounds, but apparently I’d been wrong.

  I squeezed her hand. If she was as stressed as it seemed, whatever was inside this house wasn’t going to help her relax any. In fact, just the opposite might be true.

  “Look, I don’t know what’s going on in there, but when Alex gets like this, he can be completely unpredictable. I saw him at the pub earlier, and he was pissed then. Just try to stay behind me and away from him, okay?”

  She nodded and I released her hand as we both got out of the car. We walked up the driveway, towards the house.

  “Is that his car?” she asked, indicating the clapped-out red CRV parked haphazardly at the end of the drive.

  “Yeah, that’s his alright. Look at it – looks like he abandoned it there. Jesus, I can’t believe he drove. I should’ve called the cops on him from the pub – if I’d known he was driving, I bloody would’ve. He’s gonna kill someone one of these days.”

  A crash rang out from inside the house, followed by a lot of shouting. One-sided. Male. Alex. Where the hell was Bridget?

  We hurried to the front door, and I knocked loudly, calling for Bridget. The door didn’t open but my cellphone chirped with an incoming text and I dug it out of my pocket.

  “What the hell’s going on here?” I mumbled, shoving it back in my pocket a second later. “That was Bridget – she said the back door’s unlocked.”

  “She texted you? Why doesn’t she just open the front door?”

  “I have no idea,” I said, as we made our way around to the back of the house.

  Sure enough, the door was unlocked, and we let ourselves into the now quiet house. The silence was worse. We stood at the door, and I looked down the hall towards the kitchen at the back of the house. There were remnants of a broken vase or bowl or something on the floor in the hallway. I could hear someone moving around in the kitchen, and what sounded like mumbling, with the odd expletive thrown in. Alex, by the sound of it. I motioned to Maia to stay behind me. I had no idea what was going on here but all was obviously not well.

  “Heath!”

  We turned to find Bridget peering out at us from behind the bathroom door. I went to her immediately.

  “Jesus – what’s going on?” I hissed, trying to keep my voice down. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded, but it looked like she’d been crying.

  “Let me in,” I said, trying to push the door open.

  “No, love, I… “

  I ignored her, pushing the door open a crack wider. As soon as I saw the ugly red mark on her cheekbone, my blood pressure sky-rocketed.

  Bridget was almost apologetic. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want you to –”

  “You’re sorry? What the fuck happened?” I hissed, pushing the door open wider still and carefully tilting her face into the light to get a better look.

  It looked painful. And recent.

  “I wouldn’t give him his keys,” she said, trying to smile but looking more like she wanted to cry. “I didn’t want him to drive, not like this.”

  “So he hit you?”

  “No, he pushed me – I fell and hit my head on the table.”

  Yeah, I bet he did. Gutless bastard. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you anywhere else?”

  “No, no, I’m fine – really. I just fell, and… he didn’t do it on purpose.”

  I stood there, silently debating which of his bones to break first. He had crossed a line now, a line that should never be crossed. It looked like his luck had run out. I was just in the right frame of mind now to knock him straight into next week.

  “What’s he on?” I demanded. “Is he drunk or is it something else?”

  “I don’t know. I think he’s just drunk. He’s not thinking straight – he started smashing up the place because I took his keys and hid them from him. I thought it best to get out of his way. I thought he’d calm down if I left him alone,” she said miserably. “I thought maybe he’d just lie down on the couch and sleep it off.”

  She looked on the verge of tears and Maia drew her gently into her arms. “It’s okay. We’ll figure something out.”

  Then Maia looked to me, as if for guidance. I wanted to tell her to take Bridget back to my place while I smashed the living shit out of Alex. I wanted to tell her that no one should have to put up with this, least of all his own mother. I wanted to tell her that Alex had gone too far, that this was beyond forgiveness.

  But I knew that I wasn’t the one he would be asking for forgiveness from. And Bridget would forgive him, just like she’d forgiven him for everything else he’d done. Tonight, he would rant and rave and spew his poison over all of us. And tomorrow, he would wake up none the wiser. It was Bridget who would have to go to work tomorrow sporting a bruise. His own mother, who was suffering from the same grief he was – now doubled, thanks to him.

  What happened to honouring Emily’s memory? What would she have done? Would she have looked at me like Maia was right at that moment?

  I swallowed down the revulsion I felt towards him for putting me in this situation.

  “Stay here. Leave him to me,” I said tightly, turning and heading back down the hallway.

  My footsteps reverberated off the wooden floors, and I hope he heard me. I sure as hell heard Bridget, sobbing quietly in Maia’s arms behind me. It spurred me on, feeding my anger.

  I stopped when I got to the open plan kitchen and dining room. Alex was standing near the French doors, leaning on the back of one of the dining room chairs, head bowed. He was looking more and more like Bridget these days, but unlike Bridget he looked unkempt. God only knew what he was into these days, but I had my suspicions it was more than just booze. He had lost weight and he looked much older than me, even though we were the same age.

  I wanted to believe that he knew what he was doing but he couldn’t stop himself. I hoped it was grief that made him act this way, and that the real Alex was still in there, somewhere. I just wished to hell he’d wake up to himself and get some help. If he carried on behaving like this, he was on a sure-fire path to self-destruction. I couldn’t bear to think of Bridget losing both her kids. As resilient as she was, that would be enough to break anyone.

  He looked up slowly, and I could see how out of it he was. He had trouble focusing on me. Good. Maybe the drunker he was, the less likely he would be to cause any more trouble.

  “What the fuck do you want?” he growled, confusion giving way to anger as he pushed himself upright.

  “I’m taking you home,” I said evenly. “You’ve out-stayed your welcome.”

  Honestly, the idea of being in the same car as him sent a chill up my spine. But if it got him away from Bridget – and Maia – that was a small price to pay.

  “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

  That didn’t really surprise me. Somehow, he managed to hold my gaze steadily, even though he himself was the opposite. Great. Not drunk enough to go quietly, but definitely drunk enough to cause more damage.

  I could hear footsteps coming up the hall, and qu
iet sniffing. Alex’s bloodshot eyes slid from mine to the hall behind me. I could tell the exact moment he laid eyes on Maia. His mouth went slack, his eyes widened and he somehow managed the miracle of standing stock still.

  “Em?” he whispered.

  The hope in his voice was pitifully clear. I knew how much he wanted her to be Em, because I’d wanted that too. But she wasn’t. And despite everything, I had to let him down gently because I knew how much it hurt.

  I turned side on, keeping all three of them in my line of sight. I was wired, prepared for anything. But still the disbelief on his face took me by surprise. I actually felt sorry for him. I reached out for Maia’s hand, gently drawing her in closer to me.

  “This is Maia. Maia – Alex.”

  Stripped of his former bravado, he just stared at her.

  “Hi,” she said softly.

  Alex made his way around the table, stumbling over one of the dining chairs as he caught it with his foot. He didn’t take his eyes off her and he didn’t speak, but the expression on his face made my heart ache. Had he even heard a word I said?

  I put my hand out toward Alex, warning him off. I could feel Maia bristling beside me anxiously.

  “Alright,” I said quickly. “Enough. I’ll take you home.”

  That seemed to jolt Alex out of his stupor and he tore his eyes away from her. “What?”

  “Please, love,” Bridget pleaded, standing beside us, wringing her hands together nervously. “Let him take you home.”

  He looked from me to Bridget, and finally back to Maia again. Then he straightened up, backing away a couple of steps and reaching out blindly for a chair to hold onto.

  “You’re not her,” he said, as if he had caught her trying to trick him. “You’re not Em.”

  She shook her head sadly. “No, I’m not. I’m sorry.”

  He deflated in front of me. I saw the hope wither and die inside of him. His expression changed in a heartbeat, and he went dark with rage, turning that rage back on me.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” he demanded, as if the previous few minutes had never even happened.

  I could feel the anger begin to simmer inside of me again. “Bridget called me. She said you wouldn’t leave. I’m just here to make sure you do.”

  I pulled on Maia’s hand, drawing her back behind me slightly. Alex looked over at Bridget and shook his head, as if he didn’t believe me. The sooner he was out of here, the better.

  “Come on,” I said. “Time for you to call it a night. You’ve done enough here, bro.”

  That seemed to trigger him and he turned back to me as the tension in the room mounted. “I’m not your fuckin’ bro. Thanks to you, I’m not anyone’s bro, not anymore.”

  It felt like a sucker-punch to the gut. I tried to tough it out when all I really wanted to do was double over and give in to the pain. But I wasn’t going to let him get to me. My priority here wasn’t me. It was Bridget and Maia, and keeping him away from them.

  I sucked in a breath through my teeth and tried again. “Get out, Alex. Walk home, I don’t care. Just go.”

  Alex shook his head, planting his feet firmly, getting comfortable. The familiar toxic smirk appeared and my heart sank. He wasn’t going to make this easy, on any of us.

  “I don’t even know how you can live with yourself.”

  Not again. “I’ve had enough of this bullshit from you. I don’t know how many times we’ve been through this already, but you need some new material, dude. This shit’s getting old.”

  “You look nervous,” Alex grinned, his mouth pulled unnaturally tight, turning it into more of a grimace. “Don’t you want me to tell the replica what you’re really like?”

  “Stop it!” Bridget snapped. “Her name is Maia.”

  Alex nodded, as if considering the matter. “Well, Maia, perhaps you and I should get to know each other a bit better.”

  I squeezed Maia’s hand then let it go, taking a step towards Alex. “Are you gonna leave quietly, or do I have to throw you out?”

  Alex sneered and I had to fight the urge to punch it right off his face.

  “What’s the matter?” he asked. “Afraid she’ll find out all about you? You might have everyone else fooled, but we both know the truth don’t we?”

  My hand flexed into a fist and I readied myself. He’d had this coming for a long time. Suddenly, I didn’t care about Bridget or Henry or making it unnecessarily hard on them. I just wanted to know the sense of satisfaction that came from hitting him. I could almost hear Vinnie in my head, egging me on.

  “Just go home, Alex,” Bridget begged, coming forward. “Please?”

  “You’re such a hero aren’t you mate?” I said, the blood pounding in my ears. “Pushing and shoving your own mother around, treating her like shit too. How the hell do you sleep at night?”

  Alex blinked, as if desperately trying to keep up with the shift in focus. The façade slipped away and he turned to Bridget. It was incredible, the way he could turn on a dime. One minute spoiling for a fight, the next minute looking young and vulnerable and full of remorse. My head spun, just watching him.

  “I didn’t hit you, Mum – did you tell him that I didn’t hit you?”

  “No, you didn’t hit me,” Bridget said carefully.

  “You pushed her into a table instead.”

  “I didn’t push her! She fell!”

  “Trying to get the hell away from you!” I cried, losing it finally. “Get out, you’ve done enough for one night, don’t you think? She doesn’t want you here tonight – come back when you’re sober, you can apologise to her then.”

  Alex reached up with both hands, pulling at his hair and grimacing, as if trying to think straight through the alcoholic haze clouding his brain. “You should’ve just given me my keys, Mum! That’s all I wanted – my keys!”

  “And watch you kill yourself – or someone else?” Bridget demanded, in one of the rare times I’d ever heard her raise her voice. “Don’t you think we’ve had enough heartache in this family? Isn’t it enough that Em’s gone? You’re my son, the only child I have left, and yet you insist on destroying yourself right in front of me!”

  My heart pounded in my ears. I’d never heard her speak to Alex like that before.

  “Don’t do that!” Alex croaked, breaking down and making a grab for the dining room table to steady himself. “Don’t lay any more of that guilt shit on me!”

  “It’s not guilt, Alex – it’s the truth! Why won’t you let me help you? You can’t go on like this – I can’t go on like this! You’re breaking my heart, can’t you see that?”

  Alex sucked in a gut-wrenching sob, bending over the dining table. For a second, I thought he was going to pass out, and I swapped an anxious look with Bridget. Suddenly, he swept his arm across the table, knocking a bowl to the floor, sending fruit flying in all directions. The bowl smashed, the sound ricocheting through the room.

  “Give me my keys!” he roared.

  Bridget stared at him, wide-eyed, and I could see her trembling from where I stood. She was doing a good job of holding herself together, but I could tell the mask was wearing thin. Maia moved to put her arm around her, pulling her close. I couldn’t watch this nightmare any longer.

  “That’s it!” I bellowed, striding towards him. “If I have to fuckin’ throw you out, I will!”

  Alex side-stepped me – impressive, considering his inebriated state – and made his way around the other side of the table, putting a barrier between us. This was no game though. My face was on fire as I struggled to keep my temper under control.

  “No time for your bullshit,” I warned. “Final warning!”

  “Yeah,” Alex said slowly, nodding as if he was actually enjoying this. “That’s right. That’s the real you, isn’t it? Maybe now your new girlfriend will see what kind of man you really are. S’pose you told her a bunch of shit about how you were gonna keep her safe too, didn’t ya?”

  “You’re out of your fuckin’ mi
nd!”

  Alex gave a huff, a kind of laugh with an edge to it that was far from funny.

  “Yeah, right. I’m out of my mind,” he mumbled. “What’s the matter dude – truth hurt?”

  In an instant, my blood-pressure sky-rocketed again. I hung on to one of the dining chairs in front of me, tempted to pick it up and throw it at him if that would make him shut up.

  “Heath,” pleaded Bridget, just in time.

  A timely reminder that we had an audience. God knew what Maia thought about any of this – I was too scared to find out.

  I leaned forward, my entire body tense with the effort it took to keep my temper under control. “Get. The. Fuck. Out.”

  “Please, Alex,” Bridget begged. “Please let me just drive you home?”

  Let her, I pleaded silently, aware I was losing it and not sure how long I was able to keep up the façade. Let her get you the hell away from me. Let her do it. Go.

  Alex swayed on his feet for several moments, leaning on the table for support. Then he pushed himself upright and seemed to take control once more.

  “You know what?” he said, eyes bloodshot and wide, as if he was having trouble seeing me. “You can all just go fuck yourselves. I don’t need this bullshit.”

  And with that, he turned and staggered down the hallway. I heard the crunch of broken glass as he made his way to the back door, then it slammed shut behind him and the house was engulfed in silence.

  For several long moments, we all stood there, frozen, processing what had just happened. And then the shock wore off.

  I turned to Bridget just as she took a shuddering breath and fell to her knees, sobbing. Maia fell with her, trying desperately to hold her up.

  You bastard. You selfish, inconsiderate, stubborn bastard!

  But it was too late. He was gone. He was gone and she was there, falling apart right in front of me. I knelt down beside them as Maia stared at me helplessly. I know, I wanted to say. I know, but I don’t know what to do either.

  It had gone beyond Alex just lobbing insults, picking away at me. It was far more than that now. Gone was the simmering rage of just moments ago, replaced by an all-encompassing despair that felt like it was ripping me to pieces.