Imperfectly Real (A Series of Imperfections)

by A. E. Woodward

  “If you could do anything you wanted, without any repercussions, what would you do?” I whispered into her ear.

  “You mean between you and I?” she asked rolling to face me.

  I shook my head. Of course she would think I wanted to know about us, but I didn’t—I wanted to know about her. “No. In life. What do you want from life, Liz?”

  She looked at me for a moment as if she was pondering her answer. “No one’s ever asked me that before.”

  In that moment, my heart broke for her. It was beyond sad that no one had ever cared enough to ask her what she wanted for her future. “Seriously?” I asked dumbfounded.

  “Yeah. I was always just told what was expected of me and I did it.” She sighed. “I never questioned it. It was what it was, and that was that.” She fell silent and I wondered if she even knew what she wanted.

  After a few minutes of silent cuddles I decided to broach the subject again. “So what do you want, Liz?”

  Without thinking she blurted out her answer. “I wanna go to art school.”

  I smiled having finally gotten an honest answer. “I didn’t know you were an artist,” I mused, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

  “Nobody does.” As if on a mission, she sat up and threw on my t-shirt that was still lying on the floor. It swallowed up her petite frame as she exited the room. I propped myself up on my elbow and she soon came back with a leather portfolio. Reaching in, she pulled out a small piece of paper. She admired it for a few moments before finally passing it over to me. I looked down at a pencil sketch of a memory I had completely forgotten about …

  Walking towards the boat I noticed her. She was crying all by herself at the edge of the dock.

  “C’mon, Tyler!” Emma cried as she jumped in the boat with Shane.

  As much as I was dying to go tubing with my friends, part of me wanted to make sure that she was okay. Emma was going to be pissed, but she was just going to have to wait. Someone had to look out for Half-Pint.

  “Yeah”—I started walking down the dock—”just give me a minute, all right.” I called over to them as I neared the end where she was perched. I saw Emma throw her hands in the air as Shane tried to calm her down. Emma was such a hot-head—especially when it came to her sister. She didn’t understand why I felt the need to look out for Elizabeth, but I didn’t really care. I just wanted to make sure she was all right.

  I sat down next to her and dipped my feet into the water before bumping her with my shoulder. “What’s the matter, Half-Pint?” And with that, the pre-teen floodgates opened. She launched into a fit of uncontrollable sobbing, and I thought for sure that someone had died. I put my arm around her tiny shoulders and pulled her closer to me. I looked over at Emma and Shane waiting in the boat. Emma tapped her wrist like she would a watch and I motioned for them to give me just a minute more. Elizabeth needed someone—anyone—to listen to her.

  The tears subsided quickly and between her throaty sobs she was finally able to speak. “Bobby Tucker broke up with me,” she sniffed.

  I pinched her arm, hoping to get her to smile. “You’re too young to be upset over some dumb ‘boy’,” I laughed. She was only ten.

  She looked up at me, sullenly. “Yeah, but Mom says I need to find a good guy to take care of me.”

  “Well, look no further kiddo. I’ll watch out for you.” I was genuine in my words, but I hoped that she didn’t misunderstand them. I didn’t want to blur the lines, considering her monster-sized puppy dog adoration for me.

  “You promise?” she smiled half-heartedly.

  “I promise.”

  I sat gazing at the drawing of her and I sitting on that dock—my arm wrapped tightly around her as she forced a smile. I wondered if she’d drawn it from memory, or if someone had happened to snap a picture in that moment. She had nailed it, and it had taken me back to that moment … and that promise.

  My thoughts were broken by her small voice. “You broke your promise, Tyler. You let me get lost.”

  I shook my head in an attempt to clear out the memory. I’d had no idea that she had clung to my words for so long. “Liz …”

  “It’s pathetic, I know.” Her eyes fell to her lap. “You were just being nice, but your leaving destroyed me more than you will ever know. I kept searching for someone to care about me like you did, but obviously I didn’t find anyone.” She nervously picked at her fingernails before looking back up at me. She took a deep breath and continued. “AI know you didn’t love me back then, Tyler, but you were the only person that cared if I was happy or sad. I jumped from guy to guy just hoping that they might too … but I never found it. “

  I took her face in my hands. I’d been unaware of what I’d been doing and somehow I had misled her. She’d built me up in such a way that it had ruined all men for her.

  “I’m here now,” I offered, hopeful that that would be enough. It was true. I cared for her more now than I had ever imagined back then.

  She sniffed. “But it’s too late.”

  I shook my head in frustration. This was one of the few times that I knew, without a doubt, that Elizabeth and Emma were sisters. They sucked at making decisions, and I blamed Mrs. Sloan for that. She had spent years coaxing her daughters to do just what she wanted. It was no wonder that neither of them ever really knew what they wanted.

  Elizabeth needed to think about herself—she deserved to be selfish for once. In order for her to see that, I needed to take myself out of the equation.

  “Go to art school,” I blurted.

  Confused, Elizabeth looked at me, her face thoughtful. “What?”

  “If it’s what you want, go to art school.”

  “It’s not that simple,” she argued.

  “But it is, Liz. Life is truly that simple. If you want to do something, you do it. Quit worrying about what other people think.” I stood up and motioned for her to give me my shirt. Our time was up. I’d come to give her all the information in order for her to make a decision, so I wasn’t going to press the issue.

  “What are you doing?” she asked franticly, pulling my t-shirt off. She shivered as the cotton left her skin.

  “I should go stay the night with my mom and Talon …” I needed to separate myself from her. I was done prodding and trying to make her realize that I was what she needed. She needed to come to a decision on her own. If she wanted to continue being fuckin’ miserable, that was her own problem.

  She clung to my shirt. “Mason’s gone. He won’t be home until Friday,” she offered, hoping I might change my mind and stay, but I’d already made my decision.

  “No.” I reached out for my shirt. She passed it over while frowning. I felt conflicted leaving her, but I knew it was for the best. I needed to bow out gracefully. “You’ve got some serious shit to figure out, Liz. Don’t bother calling or texting unless you’re ready to make a decision. I’m not going to listen to anymore of your excuses until you’re ready to change something.”

  I left her sitting there on the floor in a pile of blankets and regrets. I’d let myself get in too deep and I still didn’t know where I stood. I was fucked.

  I drove the short distance to my childhood home and sighed when I saw the kitchen light on. I already knew what awaited me inside. Mom was getting her fill on midweek manhattans—Dad’s drink of choice and thus her drink of choice when wallowing in self-pity.

  First thought: Fuck.

  Second thought: Poor Talon.

  I was an asshole for leaving him to grow up having to deal with her. He’d become more of a parent to her than she’d ever been to him. He’d had to assume more responsibility for her than I could ever imagine. After I left, he’d called me a few times, frantic with worry and looking for advice on how to help a drunk. I helped him as much as I could, but eventually the calls stopped coming. He slowly, but surely, figured it out on his own.

  I sat in the car, debating whether I had enough steam to make it back to New York but I knew I didn’t. I was emotionally
and physically exhausted, so I dragged my sorry, adulterated ass into the house.

  I opened the door and was immediately was hit with the overwhelming aroma of bleach and booze—a.k.a. the perfume of Evelyn Johnston. Nothing says perfection quite like consuming copious amounts of alcohol while cleaning.

  “Talon?” she called out from the kitchen.

  I heard the ice clink in her glass—she was probably downing the rest of her drink before having to speak to her son. I shook my head and walked into the kitchen where she was perched at the breakfast bar, wrapped in her silk, leopard-print robe.

  I sighed.

  Her eyes dilated as I stepped in front of her, like she was having trouble focusing. “Tyler? What are you doing home?” She stood and faltered a bit, but steadied herself by placing her hand on the custom sea-glass countertop she’d just had to have.

  She gripped the side of the counter top until her knuckles were white.

  “Sorry, Ma. I would have called but it was a spur of the moment thing.” I closed the distance between us and wrapped my arms around her. I couldn’t help but notice that she seemed thinner than the last time I’d seen her. Talon needed to do a better job of reminding her to eat. “I’ve missed you guys.”

  “It’s so good to see my boy.” She leaned back and placed my hands on my cheeks as she admired me. I knew what she was thinking when she looked at me, and it made me uncomfortable. I hated that I was a constant reminder of her lost love. She’d be mixing another drink in 3, 2 …

  Her hands dropped and she went back to her spot at the bar. “Can I offer you a drink, Ty?” she hiccupped, grabbing the bottle from next to her.

  “No, Ma, I’m all set.” I grabbed the neck of said bottle and stared at her, our hands clenched tightly. “And I think you’ve had enough for the both of us, don’t you?”

  She rolled her eyes and surrendered the bottle without much of a fight.

  “Where’s Talon?” I asked. He should have been home at this hour.

  “Oh, he hasn’t come home from work yet. He’s picked up a second job at the restaurant. The tips are good. I expect him anytime now,” she slurred. “He’s such a good boy, Tyler. He takes care of me.”

  I poured the remainder of the booze in the bottle down the sink drain. “Well, somebody has to.”

  I heard her sniff behind me, and I knew I was in for it now. “Exactly. Talon takes care of me because you and your father don’t!”

  It was the go-to drunk dig. She really needed to come up with something better. “He’s dead, Ma …”

  “Well, what’s your excuse?” she hissed through her teeth.

  “Seriously, Ma, I’ve been gone for over ten years, you need to get over it. Stop being such a drunk and start being a parent because I could use one!” I stopped to take a breath while making my way to the stairs. I was so done with this day. “And I’m sure Talon could probably use you too. He’s been on his own longer than me.”

  I made my way to my old room, kicked off my shoes, and within minutes exhaustion had won and I was dead to the world.

  I looked around the study, wondering why I was down here. I could have sworn that I’d gone to bed. My eyes finally rested upon my father, perched behind his mahogany desk. “Dad?” I asked, astounded beyond belief. I knew I was dreaming at this point, but it seemed so real.

  He motioned towards one of the two chairs that rested in front of him. “Son, take a seat.”

  I felt like a kid, and in a sense I probably was since I hadn’t been around my father in years. He’d died on my birthday—happy birthday to me, huh? “Am I in trouble?”

  “No. You like the Sloan girls though, don’t ya?” He smiled as he pulled out a cigar from his desk and lit it. I cringed—even in death he couldn’t give the damn things up. Lung cancer was a nasty bitch.

  Defensive, I immediately stammered. “They’re fun and I like being around them, that’s all.”

  He laughed, one of his deep belly laughs before finally saying, “Take the last one on the left.”

  I woke with a start, my mind hazy and confused. My dreams had been hella cryptic lately, but seriously—what … the … fuck?

  I hopped up from my bed, and optimism flooded through me as I saw the sun shining. It was a new day, and I was more alert and prepared to deal with my mom. Hopefully she hadn’t already been into the sauce. Maybe, just maybe, I’d given her a smidgen of a wake up call. But as I came down the stairs I was more disheartened than I could possibly imagine when I saw her morning Mimosa propped in front of her. I liked my booze as much as the next, but seriously, my mother took it to a whole new level.

  “Morning, Tyler,” she chirped, adjusting the tie on her robe.

  “Morning, Ma.” My head motioned towards the glass in front of her. “I see you were able to replenish your stock.”

  “I know you think I’m a terrible person, Tyler, but I’ll have you know that this is just orange juice.” Not believing her, I grabbed the glass from the counter and sniffed. She was telling the truth and I was shocked.

  “I know I’ve let you and Talon down, and that breaks my heart … truly, it does. But with your father gone … it was just too hard for me … it still is. I loved that man more than life itself.” She paused and sighed. “I know you don’t understand what I mean when I say that, but I pray that someday you will find love like I did, because it is only then that you truly become alive.”

  I stared at my mother in absolute disbelief. I couldn’t remember the last time I had heard her speak so much, so sober. I knew she was telling the truth—she’d adored my father—but I still wasn’t sure if those feelings were for him, or his bank account. The jury was still out on that one.

  “I know you think I don’t know you … but I do. You’re my son, and I can tell that something isn’t right. You never just show up here. I don’t know what’s going on with you, Tyler, and you don’t have to tell me, but I have some advice that your father always gave me when times got tough.” She hesitated and looked to me for reassurance to go on.

  “I’ll take anything I can get at this point, Ma.” I pleaded, defeated beyond belief.

  “Whenever I was upset your father would wrap his arms around me and whisper ‘When nothing goes right, go left’.”

  I rolled my eyes in an attempt to downplay the serious case of goose bumps I had just received. “Way to be cryptic, Ma.” I turned to the fridge to look for something to eat. I wasn’t about to admit that I had just had a dream where my father said something very similar to me. That would be giving her credit, and she didn’t deserve it. Not since it was the first piece of advice she’d given me in the past five or six years.

  “You might not think it’s great advice, but the next time you’re in a bind you’ll think of what I said and it will suddenly all make sense to you. Just watch.”

  I stared into the fridge, not really looking by that point when I heard footsteps approaching. “It’s true.”

  I turned to see my brother grab an apple from the fruit basket next to Mom. I looked him up and down, and saw that he’d finally caught up with me in size, but our similarities stopped there. Talon was the good kid—always going out of his way to please Ma. I loved him. Sure, he was an ass-kisser, but he didn’t know any other way. He’d never left home and I doubt he ever would. He took a bite from his apple and smiled, “Hey, Ty.”

  I nodded. “Talon. How goes it?”

  “Same old, same old …” he said between chews. “You know how it is. What brings you to Podunk? In the middle of the week?”

  I could tell Talon was suspicious, and rightfully so since he knows how much I dislike being in Maine. I threw my arm around his shoulder and pulled him into a headlock. “I just missed your precious face, baby brother.”

  Talon immediately started fighting back, but despite his size matching mine, his strength wasn’t even close. Podunk didn’t have a gym. Points for me.

  I pulled him closer and ruffled his hair. He continued to fight and finally broke
free of me. His arms pounded against my chest as he quickly pushed me a step back. “Dammit, Tyler!”

  Mom stood up and smiled—obviously she was having a proud mama moment watching us beat on one another. “I’ll leave you boys to catch up. I’ve got to get ready to head to town.”

  Talon watched Mom leave the kitchen and head up the stairs. Once she was out of sight he directed his attention back to me. “So, what’s the real reason you’re here?”

  “None of your business,” I muttered.

  Talon huffed and continued to chew his apple casually. “So, I saw Christy Smith the other day. Said she ran into you in New York last week.”

  My stomach flip-flopped. She wouldn’t have said something. Would she? “Yeah? And?”

  Talon laughed. “You’re messing around with her aren’t you?” Relieved, air escaped from my lungs. “Does Shane know?” he continued prodding for information.

  I started to laugh.

  “You’re a dick, Tyler.”

  “What makes you think I’m dumb enough to mess around with—” I stopped myself. I was dumb enough to mess around with a married woman, so technically I was probably dumb enough to mess around with my best friend’s ex. “Never mind. But I’m not messing around with Christy, and I don’t have to explain myself to you. Now let’s do something useful and let’s go fishing.”

  Talon called into work to take the day off. Then he and I made our way to the pond behind our house. I’d taken him there every Sunday when we were growing up, until I left him behind—just like Elizabeth—only, he’d been even younger. I was feeling like I had let everyone down by moving to New York. I’d put too much pressure on Talon to take care of Mom, and that wasn’t fair.

  “Jesus, it’s cold.” I shivered as we sat down on the rocks next to the pond.

  Talon laughed. “You’re in Maine, Bub, it’s like a whole other climate zone.”

  He was right, I forgot how cold and miserable early spring in Maine was. ‘Mainiacs’ were lucky to get two solid months of nice weather during July and August. The rest of the year was one of three types—cold, colder, and coldest. It sucked, and you always forgot how bad it sucked until you left and came back … while it was cold.