by Jade Eby
We haven't seen them since the wedding and I'm sure this is not the way Carter intended to see him again. But when I glance over at him, his mouth is turned up into a tight smile.
"Grayson, what a surprise," he says.
"Say, why don't you join us for dinner? We have a lot of catching up to do."
I've had such little interaction with anyone outside of Carter these last few months, I'll take an hour of adult conversation where I can get it. Even if it's with the two people who know my past almost as well as I do.
"Oh, well…"
"We'd love to," I say, not caring what the punishment for this will be.
"Great!" Grayson says and waves down a waiter. Tells them we'd like to be moved to a bigger table.
We take a seat across from Grayson and Courtney, her eyes flicking from him to me. Me to him. She smiles, but it's pained. Forced.
Once the pleasantries are out of the way, Courtney reaches across the table for my hand. "It's been a while."
It has. But I'm not sure how to feel about that. Courtney's always just been… there. There's always been this wall between us that we can't quite seem to break down. In another life, where I wasn't with Carter, perhaps we would have been real friends. Or, more realistically, if her husband and mine hadn't been best friends, we would never know each other. Would never be bothered to feel the awkward sting of small talk and things left unsaid.
Courtney has that post-baby-aura. She's lost most of the baby weight and looks beautiful. Not at all like the run-down, sleep-deprived type of mother I imagined she'd be.
"You look great! Motherhood suits you," I say, the crack in my voice surprising me.
She smiles coyly. "Thank you, Tawny. It's amazing. I can't even describe it, really. I mean, you just have to have one before you can truly understand how it changes your life."
"Oh, I'm sure," I say, taking a swig from the water glass, willing the waiter to come over and bring me something alcoholic.
The waiter comes over - thankfully - to take our order. Carter and I pick up our menu's and browse. I watch Carter carefully, deconstructing his body language. His mood. What can I order without getting in trouble for it? What will cost the least?
I order a Ceasar salad with french soup.
"We come to a place like this and that's what you order?" Carter says, nudging me in the ribs.
Smiling, I hand the menu back to the waiter. "I have a figure to watch, you know."
Everyone at the table laughs in a predictable, customary way.
"So, when are you two going to be having one? Hell, I was sure Tawny would be knocked up before we even graduated," Grayson jokes.
"Ha. Ha." I say to Grayson, sticking out my tongue.
The truth is - I want a child so bad it hurts. I want a chubby, screaming, adorable baby of my own.
So does Carter.
But my body doesn't seem to agree. It's like I'm constantly at war with my womb. I tell it one thing, and it does the exact opposite.
Not like I'm going to tell our friends this. So I change the subject.
"So you're staying home with the baby then?" I ask.
A quick flash of something falls over Courtney's face but it's gone as quickly as it comes. "I have another two weeks, and then I'll be going back to work at the firm. I didn't realize how attached I'd be to Elizabeth, but… money has to be made. Gotta start socking away the college fund this early, you know?"
I don't know. I can't even comprehend saving past the month. I can't even imagine planning that far ahead. Maybe that's what's wrong with us? We're not prepared. We're not capable of handling a child.
Pangs of doubt needle at me and I shake them off, sure they're so easily detected in my expression. My words.
"I'm actually thinking of going back to college to get my degree in legal studies."
Carter snorts and I slap him under the table. "What… like you want to be a lawyer or something?"
Courtney gives him a look - one that I would sure to get slapped for if I had given it. "No, you dumbass, I want to be a paralegal instead of the firm secretary. I love getting into the research of the cases. Finding answers to the questions the lawyers don't think about asking until it's too late."
"Sounds boring," Carter says at the same time that I say, "sounds like fun."
Courtney laughs. "You would think it's boring, Carter. And Tawny, I think it's something you'd like. You'd be good at it, too. You did good in school, just liked to pretend you didn't, right? You could totally do this."
Carter speaks up before I have a chance. "I'm not sure that's really her thing, Court. She's more of a retail, sales, on her feet type of job kind of girl. Besides, we didn't get a chance to tell you that we are trying to have a baby. As soon as the old girl here gets knocked up, it's gonna be like popping out one after the other. Stay at home mom is the life for Tawny."
I plaster on the brightest, fakest smile I can muster, but I'm sure Courtney sees right through it. She has the same smile on her face. She's so lucky. She gets the family and the job. Support and encouragement.
I get a future that's already planned out for me. Chicken dinners and endless nights of laundry. Grocery store trips and PTA meetings. Homeschool lessons and a whole lot of patience.
Compromise isn't a lesson well learned in the Brook's home. It's not a part of our marriage or a way of life. It's a dream or a theory I'm not sure I'll ever come to fully realize.
In our home, it's one way and one way only. Carter's.
I envy Courtney and the happiness she exudes. Is it real? Forced like mine is tonight? Or is it conditional - based on Grayson's moods or how heavy his fists feel at every minute?
Does she see the war that's finally beginning to flame in me or does she see the remnants of me that have long faded away?
July - 2003
Jackie lives across the hall from Carter and me. She's my secret friend. The only benefit to being around during the day without Carter here. We met in the laundry room. Hit it off.
Mostly, she knows things about me without me having to say it.
"You have to do it, Tawny," she says, sitting across from me in her living room.
I shake my head. "It's not that easy. I don't have any money. I have no where to go. I'm…nothing without him."
Jackie stands up, paces back and forth. "I know it feels like he has this hold over you, but he doesn't. You don't deserve to get treated like this. Last night's fight was not the worst of it and you know it. He thinks he's being careful but we hear everything with these paper thin walls. Someone will call the cops again, and then what happens when they arrest him? How will he react then?"
I shiver with that image. He would lose his shit. He would completely dissolve into a ball of rage. I would be done for. I know that and yet…
"Listen to me," Jackie says, coming over to me. She grabs my hand. "You are so much better than this. If he really loved you, he wouldn't hit you."
"He does love me, though. I know that without a doubt. He just gets… carried away. He was abused as a child. You know that? Burned, branded, kicked. His father beat the shit out of him."
She raises an eyebrow. "And he's not doing that to you? Don't forget that I've seen your bruises. He can't keep you locked in that apartment for the rest of your life. Someone is going to figure it out. You need to get out."
I bite my lip and chew on the flesh. The thought of leaving him scares me more than staying. I don't know who I am without him. I don't know how to even exist outside of being Tawny Brooks, Carter's wife. What do I have to offer this world? Nothing. He's made that clear and he's not wrong.
"I can't leave him, Jackie. I just… can't."
She squeezes my hand. "You have to. He's going to kill you. Maybe not tonight. Maybe not next week or next year. But he will. Trust me on this."
I give her a pointed look. "How do you know? You don't know him outside of his tantrums. He's not always like that. He's sweet and loving. Romantic. He loves me."
; She sighs. "I've seen this too many times at the hospital. Women who think that their significant other will change. Will buckle under their love. This isn't love though, Tawny. This is about power and control."
I've kept calm until now but the well of tears I've held hostage spring free. I let the tears fall unabashedly. "I love him so much. I want him to change."
"I know you do. But he won't ever do it."
She leans over and hugs me. I sob into her shoulder. I haven't ever had someone to talk to like this, other than Carter. And God knows how many times I've tried to explain how much it breaks my heart when he hurts me. He doesn't understand. Doesn't think he's doing anything wrong.
It's always my fault.
"I'm scared," I whisper. "I don't know where to go."
She pushes the hair away from my face. "You'll stay here. At least for a few nights. We'll figure it out after that. Okay? I'll help you bring your stuff over. I will do everything I can to help you. Please, let me help you."
I look at her face and she's so sincere. She offers her help out of care, worry. Not out of pity. I can never tell her how much the difference means to me.
"Okay," I whisper.
She pulls me in for another hug. "Oh, thank you, Jesus. I promise you, things will be fine. We'll get some of your stuff over here. You can stay in my spare room."
I stand up and with her hand in mine, we walk across the hall to my apartment. Everything I own, everything I am is in this apartment I share with Carter. Leaving it behind doesn't seem possible, but Jackie's right. This isn't going to get better. It will only get worse until one of us is dead.
It takes us a mere half hour to move everything I deem worthy of being mine. Not like I have that much anyway. Jackie hands me a pad of paper and pen before we leave.
"Remember, short and sweet. You don't want him to report you missing. You want him to know you left on your own accord. But don't tell him where you are."
I nod and hold the pen to the paper. I don't even know how to start it. How does someone even prepare themselves to write an I'm-leaving-you note?
Carter,
I can't do this anymore. You've hurt me for too long. I think we need some time apart. You need to figure out who is more important in your life - you or me. I'm leaving for a while. Please try not to freak out too much. You don't want the cops called again. I'll call you when I'm ready.
-Tawny
It all seems so stupid. Am I really doing this? Is this the biggest mistake of my life? What if he does something bad? Something that will ruin his life?
"Stop thinking about it. Let's go. He could come home early," Jackie says, pulling on my arm.
I let the pen drop onto the paper and leave.
Even though I'm only across the hall, it feels like an oceans worth of distance. God, he's going to freak out.
* * *
I hear him the minute he reads the note. I can tell he's read it because it sounds like something breaking across the hall. His fist into the wall? Smashed the chair? I shrink into myself and hide in Jackie's spare bedroom. He doesn't know I'm here, but I can't help but fear that he does. That he knows all about my secret friendship with Jackie.
A door slams and a knock sounds down the hall. And then another. He's going door to door. Seconds later, a fist pounds against Jackie's front door. She looks at me with a stern glare before answering it.
"Hi?"
"Um, I live across the hall and uh, I think something happened to my wife. She's about 5'6. Brown hair. Have you seen her?"
"I just got home from work a little bit ago, sorry."
"You didn't see anyone leaving my apartment, did you? Maybe a girl and another guy?"
"Haven't seen a soul up here since I got home. Maybe she left to go get groceries or something?"
Jackie knows how to play this off. If I didn't know I was sitting in her spare room, I might even believe her.
"I don't think so," he says.
"Oh, well, then I'm not sure…"
"Thanks for nothing," Carter says.
Jackie shuts the front door. I step out from the bedroom and she holds up a hand, and watches out the front window.
She comes over to me and says, "hopefully no one saw you moving your stuff over here. We'll be screwed if that happens."
My heartbeat races. She senses my discomfort.
"We'll get you somewhere safe, tomorrow. I promised you I wouldn't let him hurt you and I intend to keep that promise."
I want to believe her, I do. But doubt swirls in the pit of my stomach.
In my experience, promises are never kept. Even by people who intend to keep them.
November - 2003
The Minnesota winter seeps into my bones and nothing I do warms the chill. I shiver and pull my comforter up to my chin. It's the first winter I haven't been tangled up in Carter's limbs. We'd spend hours skin to skin to warm up. We didn't need the furnace or comforters. We had each other.
And now we don't.
It's been four long months and I still find myself intertwined in everything he is. The way he smelled after a shower. His soft, lingering kisses on my forehead. Lips. Body. The way I memorized when he was turning into the worst version of himself. The sting of his palm against my cheek. The force of his foot against my ribs.
But the pain is so much easier to forget about. The way he looked at me with those eyes, so in love with me? Not so much.
I've been living with Jackie's friend Rosalita for the last four months and I still can't get used to these sheets or the smell of her house. This is not my home. It's a temporary sleeping arrangement until I can figure out something else. I toss and turn in the bed that doesn't belong to me and wish more than anything that I could get some peace. Some relief from my own mind.
My phone trills on the counter beside me. I pick it up and am surprised when Carter's number flashes across the screen.
Our conversations have been sporadic. Tense. It was part of the deal, I told him. He had to get help. Fix himself before I'd consider coming back. I knew it wouldn't be easy to keep my end of the deal. And it hasn't been. It's been the hardest thing I've ever done.
I click the green phone button.
"You're not supposed to be calling…"
He doesn't say anything, but there's a sniffling noise, like he's sick or crying.
"Carter?"
"She's dead, Tawny," he says. His voice is so soft, I barely hear the words. I think I've misheard him until he says it again.
"Who is?" I ask, sitting up in bed.
"My mother." I hear him say it plain and clear.
"Shit. Where are you? What happened?"
"I need you." His voice cracks when he says it and so does my heart. Wide open.
"Carter…"
"Please, Tawny. I… can't do this alone. I need you here with me. I should have…" The words drop off.
"Should have what?"
He's silent on the line. I can tell he's trying not to openly weep. It's in the way his breaths lose it's jagged edge. A second later he answers. "Saved her. I should have saved her."
Then it's like a wall crumbling down.
"I couldn't do it," he says, his sobs coming full force. "I should have and didn't." His cries ricochet through me and land at the space in my heart that is reserved just for him. "Oh, Jesus. What did I do?"
"Shh. It's okay. Where are you?"
"I'm…" he says, catching his breath. "Hospital. I'm at the hospital."
I get out of bed and look around for the warmest clothing I own. "I'm coming, okay? I'll meet you in the lobby."
"You are?"
The sadness in his question chills me more than the cold winters ever could. "Yes. You need me," I whisper.
I don't care that this could be a mistake. I'm sure Jackie or Rosalita would try to keep me here, but I can't do it. Not now. Not after hearing the pain in his voice. He needs me.
I made a promise to him the day I married him and I intend to keep it.
* * *
The world knew I needed green lights. I didn't hit a single red light on the way to the hospital. When I swing into the parking lot, I see Carter through the window, sitting in one of the lobby chairs, hunched over. His head is buried in his hands. I haven't seen him in a month and I don't have to see his face to know something is different. He's changed.
Maybe facing his mother's death has made him see what it means to actually take care of the people he loves?
I rush through the revolving door, the heater blasting a swoosh of heat at my face.
"Carter?" I say, sliding into the chair next to him.
He looks up at me, his eyes red-rimmed. Days, maybe weeks, of stubble line his jaw and chin. He doesn't say a word. Doesn't hesitate. He wraps his arms around me. He buries his face in my shoulder and sobs. They shake his body and for the first time since the night he came to me broken, he seems weightless. Like he could float away with a simple wisp. Two years later, and he's still as broken as he was then.
There's nothing I can say right now to make things better. Nothing but be here. This is where I should've been the entire time. Not camped out in Rosalita's shoebox of a room. What have I done to him?
I rub circles into his back. I can't imagine what he's going through. Mostly because the idea of my mother dying doesn't have much effect on me now. I've wished it for years.
Maybe Carter has wished this for his mother, too.
He pulls back and uses his sleeves to wipe away the wetness from his eyes.
"I'm sorry," he says. It's such a loaded statement. I feel the heaviness in it. The things he wants to say… I feel them as if I can read his heart.
"Not right now. You're hurting. We'll talk about it later."
"No. Now is the perfect time to say it. Over and over and over. I'm sorry, Tawny. I'm so fucking sorry, you don't even know. I have never loved anything like I love you and I've been such an asshole. Such an idiot."
He heaves like he's going to start crying again. I lace my fingers with his. "It's okay."
