Here Lies Bridget

by Paige Harbison

  The moment after.

  And then the genuinely distraught expression on my face as he’d ended our relationship.

  I felt the devil on his shoulder—or maybe it was the angel—

  bring up another vision of me.

  One in which I’d gone on to become friends with Tammy and Jenny, despite what they’d done to me and how long I’d hated them.

  Another, in which I was telling a girl she couldn’t be part of our group in social studies. Another one, where I talked enthusiastically about the f laws of every girl we knew. And another, where I told Michelle that she looked like a slut in the top she was wearing. I’d said that her boobs were too big for it—back when she’d had some—and that a person like her couldn’t get away with that, but that I could because my chest was smaller.

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  And then another memory, where his friends had reported that I’d been f lirting with them “hardcore” and that they all kind of felt weird about it, and thought he should know.

  Wow, that was embarrassing.

  The last thought that f litted through his mind was a simple one: She just isn’t the same girl she used to be.

  He furrowed his eyebrows and looked down at our hands.

  They looked right, in a way, to both of us, but at the same time…it seemed like that era had passed.

  “I’m so tired of being like this, Liam.”

  Liam froze, trying hard not to misunderstand what I said for the better.

  “Like what?” he asked carefully.

  “It’s…hard to say, I don’t know. I feel like every day is this struggle to keep my life the way it’s been for however long.

  And I think…that it’s so I’m happy. But I’m not really very happy with who I am or whatever. Am I?”

  He watched my forehead wrinkle as I labored for the words.

  Liam thought about what I’d said, hoping that maybe this was it. Maybe I was having one of those epiphanies. His thumb moved over my cheekbone. He said nothing, not wanting to stop me from having any other realizations that might bring me back to the way I used to be.

  “I’m not saying anything right. I think it was the tequila.

  I don’t even like to drink!”

  Liam watched as I gave an open shrug, and remembered the many times I’d done the same gesture in the past. Every time he’d let me win a race, for example, I used to put my hands up in the same way as if I was saying “Sorry, I don’t know how I’m so fast!”

  “That makes five of us. You, me, Michelle, Jillian and Anna.” He said the names of my friends and Anna. I felt his hope that maybe I’d realize there were people like me.

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  People I didn’t have to try to impress.

  “Right. Five of us.”

  He stopped me from falling again, realizing that his attempt to make me feel better hadn’t had the effect he’d hoped for.

  “Come on, cliché drunk girl, let’s get you to your bed.” He weakened a bit as he heard me laugh at his joke. He could tell the difference between my well-practiced “cute” laugh and my real laugh. It was obvious which one he preferred.

  As he held my body close to his own, he felt the melancholy of having to do the “right” thing by ending it all with me. I felt him push the reasons for our breakup from his mind and just feel me as I melted into him.

  We got all the way up to my room, and he tried to keep his thoughts away from asking to stay overnight with me. He figured that by the time I woke up in the morning, I’d be back to my new normal again. And that wasn’t something he wanted to see.

  I was starting to kind of get that.

  He dropped me on the bed and tucked me in, noticing the picture of us that still stood on my bedside table. It was one taken on the Fourth of July at my aunt’s house a few years before. He looked around my room for a moment to see the other pictures, some of which were obviously chosen because they were good ones of me, not necessarily because they marked an occasion.

  “Liam…” He felt my hand on his forearm. He always used to like it when I did that.

  “Yeah,

  B?”

  “Do you ever miss me?”

  If it wasn’t such a huge, sad question he might have laughed.

  Instead he just answered more truthfully than I realized. “I do miss you.” Every day. Every time he saw me. He missed the real me.

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  My grip tightened on his arm, and it felt—I knew—to both of us like it was really just us in the world for that moment.

  Acting impulsively, he touched my hair, remembering how soft it was. He took a second to feel weird that I was so exactly the same in some ways.

  He shook himself from his reverie and stood. He pulled my shoes off, tucked me in and then walked to the door.

  Liam stopped, wondering if maybe he should just stay with me for a few minutes more. He questioned if I’d even want him there. Fool, I thought. Of course I would.

  “You all right, Bridget?”

  He watched me nod, my eyes shut, and he took a step toward me.

  But then I spoke out of nowhere. “’K. I’ll see you on Monday then.”

  “Monday.” He gave me another chance. “You’ll be okay

  ’til then?”

  “I’m fine.” I heard myself lie.

  I looked critically at my face, my mouth hanging unat-tractively slack, and my makeup gone.

  But what Liam saw as he looked at me was different. To him, I looked more like myself than I had in over a year. I wasn’t trying, pretending or faking anything. And that, he thought, was beautiful.

  But in his head, Liam confirmed suspicions I’d never have imagined were there. He saw me as having moved on. I’d changed, and so had my feelings for him, along with the rest of me.

  I couldn’t believe how wrong both of us had been about each other, again and again.

  The now familiar feeling of the world leaving me came back.

  C H A P T E R T W E LV E

  When the boardroom materialized around me, I felt numb. I reached for the chair I knew was behind me and sat.

  “Why did you show me that? I didn’t…ruin any lives or anything in that one.” My voice sounded unlike my own.

  Small and shy—two things I’d never thought of myself as.

  Anna sat down in her chair at the head of the table.

  “You must understand that the reason we’re here today is not to show you that anyone hates you.”

  “Well, then why are we here, because that’s what it feels like!” I said it too loud, the way that children yell at their parents when they’re more upset with themselves than anyone else.

  “We’re here to show you…who you are. Or at least whom you’ve become.”

  Anna looked at Liam, and then at me.

  “I want you to understand how people see you, and how your actions matter,” she went on. “You must learn that your place in the world is important. You’ve been given the power to affect people, just as we all have, and it’s important—no, vital— that you do the right thing with it.”

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  “Can we just go?” My tone was sharp, but my face was instantly apologetic. “I just want to get this over with, you know?”

  Anna nodded, and I stepped into a pair of way-too-small Manolo Blahniks. The next place I found myself was at a restaurant looking at a woman who was sporting a colorful scrunchie.

  “I dunno, all I’m sayin’ is that you shouldn’t rush into this kind of thing.”

  “I’m not rushing in, it’s just that…I don’t know, it seems like Richard was sent to me or something. And he’s good to me.”

  Hearing my father’s name in the context Meredith used it was off-putting. She was talking about him like he was…a man or something, not just a father.

  The scrunchied woman took a sip of what looked like tomato juice and shook her he
ad.

  “He wasn’t sent to you; he didn’t find your lost glove at Saks and comb the world lookin’ for you. He bought a couple of books from your bookstore. That doesn’t mean anything.”

  “Yes, but that doesn’t mean we weren’t supposed to meet, Kathy. I mean, come on, he was buying parenting books. That’s exactly what I want.”

  “What, a bratty kid to deal with? That’s not what you want.

  You want to meet a nice guy, fall in love, get married and have that big hugging, kissing moment where you both rejoice over your new pregnancy. Then you wanna have a little girl, put pictures of Winnie the Pooh all over her pink walls and grow up to be best friends with her. I know I’m right, you don’t have to tell me.” She put up a hand and then took a bite of her pesto linguine.

  Meredith shook her head, not having the energy to defend what she wanted. It might sound wonderful to have things play 1 6 5

  out the way Kathy had said, but what she really wanted was a child. Someone to help, someone who needed her, someone she could love unconditionally for the rest of her life.

  “I mean, of course that would be wonderful…but maybe this is good enough. After what I went through with Jim, I just don’t think that I’ll ever be able to make that fantasy happen.”

  “Jim,” Kathy said with her mouth full, “was an asshole.

  Do you hear me? An ass- hole. Okay, he told you he wanted to get married and do all that, and then the second you go to the fertility doctor, he starts cheatin’ on you with one of the nurses. That’s how a lot of men are, let me tell you, but that doesn’t mean that you should just settle for the next guy you meet.”

  “But

  at the doctor’s, they told me I might not be able to have my own children.” I felt the deep, aching sadness that washed over Meredith. She was so afraid that she wouldn’t be able to have her own baby. I listened to her thoughts carefully, surprised at what they said. As far as I’d ever known, she was interested only in redecorating the house.

  Her thoughts shifted back to the life that this guy Jim had promised her. She’d already painted the spare room in his house, back when she still lived there, and he’d called it “our house.”

  He’d told her that she was the one he’d been waiting for, and that he couldn’t wait to see the baby they’d make together.

  And then she’d woken up in the middle of the night to sounds coming from the spare room, and opened the door to find Jim having sex with the fertility nurse.

  And the nurse had been just that—fertile. She’d announced her pregnancy a month later, Meredith had heard.

  She’d taken in the scene before her, shocked by all of the betrayals. Her fiancé, her nurse, her nursery, her Little Bo 1 6 6

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  Peep lamp from her childhood illuminating their betrayal. The enormous insult that Jim hadn’t even tried to be careful—he’d brought the nurse back to their home.

  With me, Meredith thought, sleeping naively in the other room.

  Meredith reasserted herself, bringing her thoughts back to her conversation with Kathy.

  “But after all that…I mean maybe I had to be with Jim so that I could realize it isn’t all going to play out like I thought it would. Maybe there is no Mr. Darcy.” She smiled, weakly.

  “And Richard is no George Wickham, anyway; he’s a really good person. The only problem he has is that he doesn’t know how to deal with his daughter by himself. I can help them both.”

  Kathy looked intently at Meredith. “I dunno, Mer, I still think it’s messed up to think of marrying a guy with a ten-year-old kid just because you think it might work out okay. I mean, you haven’t said anything about how he makes you feel or anything. I’m no romantic or anything, you know that—”

  she laughed at the thought “—but, I mean, you guys have only known each other for six months.”

  “I realize that, but…”

  “And, I’m sorry, but the very fact that he’s talking about marriage already at this stage of the game is a turn-off.” She crinkled her nose. “Isn’t the kid a little snot, anyway?”

  Meredith felt offended on my behalf.

  “No, don’t say that. She’s just upset about her mother and she’s become friends with the wrong crowd. That’s all. She’ll grow out of it, and I know that if I’m there for her at the right time, she’ll turn out okay.” She took a sip of her water. “Being raised by a nanny, like she is now, is just going to harm her in the long run.”

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  Kathy clicked her tongue and opened her mouth to speak, but Meredith stopped her short.

  “Listen, Kathy, please. He’s got money, so I don’t have to worry about security. He went through all of that stuff with his wife and she’s been gone for a while now, leaving him to handle everything on his own. And Bridget…Bridget is a sweet girl. I’ve seen her have moments of kindness. She tries so hard with Richard…and I don’t know, there are moments where he seems to just resent his situation with her.”

  “Mmm. Sounds like a stand-up guy you’ve got there.”

  Meredith laughed humorlessly. “No, I don’t mean it that way. I just think that he doesn’t know how to handle her. I know he’s upset about his wife, too, and I just think…that if anything, I can help both of them.”

  “I just don’t see why you’re giving up the dream of a real life and choosing to put yourself in the middle of somethin’

  that feels like a depressing storyline on Guiding Light! You’re asking for more trouble than is worth it, I’m tellin’ you.” She looked at Meredith and softened. “But if this is what you wanna do, I’ll be here for you, I will.”

  “Thanks,

  Kathy.”

  And then they were gone. The earth fell away, and the thunderous silence I’d grown accustomed to pounded in my ears.

  When the noise ceased, I was standing in my father and Meredith’s bedroom. It was before she’d decorated it and traded my mother’s homey JCPenney-catalog style for a much more sleek and simple one.

  My father was sitting at the foot of the bed, his head in his hands and elbows on his knees. It felt weird seeing him there in the house, he was there so rarely.

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  dresser. There was a tension in the air so strong you could almost taste it.

  Meredith watched my father, not sure if she should say something or not. She didn’t want to push him, didn’t want him to get frustrated and say or do something he couldn’t take back.

  My father lifted his face from his hands and looked at Meredith. He looked disheveled and practically unlike himself. His dark hair, usually slicked back and trim-looking, was shaggy and hanging almost in the eyes that looked so much like mine.

  He was wearing a T-shirt and sweatpants and his expression was grim.

  This was a while ago, I could tell. There were fewer lines around his eyes, and he looked less harsh. Since this scene, he and I had both changed.

  “Meredith, I just don’t know about this.” He shook his head as he spoke.

  “Richard, please. Please, you can’t do this.”

  He studied her intently before looking out the window to his right.

  What was happening? Was this a breakup? Surely it couldn’t have been so serious, since Meredith was still around.

  She stepped away from the dresser and sat tentatively down on the bed with him.

  “Listen, I know this is hard. It’s really hard, but it’s just how it is. It’s not your fault, please understand that. It’s how these relationships are.” She waited for him to turn toward her and respond or at least react. He didn’t. “There’ll be fights and acrimony, and times when you feel like you just want to give up, but you can’t do that. I promise you, it’s just how this kind of thing goes.”

  “How do you know it’s not me?” my father asked quietly, still gazing fixedly out the window.

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Meredith gave a small laugh. “Because you stayed.”

  Oh,

  my

  God, he almost left her? The marriage almost ended?

  A small, shameful thrill ran through me. Would my life have been better if he had left her?

  It took only a moment to see the error of my thinking.

  “How could she be okay after this?” my father asked.

  She?

  “Her mother’s gone, and all she’s got left is me, Mer. Me, and I’m not a good father—”

  Oh, my God, he was talking about me.

  “—I never have been. I never thought I would be, and here I am trying to raise a child on my own. I’ve been doing all right for these past few years, but…what happens when all the hard stuff comes around, huh? The boyfriends, the girl stuff…I just don’t know how to handle that.”

  “No mother innately knows how to do that either, it’s learned. Everyone has to learn how to do this stuff.”

  “Well then, how come you’re so good at it?”

  She relaxed as she heard the small hint of lightheartedness in his voice. He wasn’t arguing with her, at least.

  “I guess I picked up a few things with my sisters and their kids.”

  He gave a small smile, which quickly faded as his thoughts came back to him. He looked down into his lap and spoke.

  “Mer…I just don’t know how to do this. I don’t think I can.”

  What was he saying? That he was going to somehow get rid of me? Ship me off somewhere?

  “I’ll help you,” Meredith said to him.

  He looked up at her and considered her for a long time before asking, “You sure?”

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  She tilted her head at him, and nodded.

  He took her hand, and then, just as I thought it would, the f loor fell away.

  I assumed I would end up in the boardroom, but I was back in the same restaurant as before, clearly at yet another time.

  Kathy had pulled her chair around to sit right next to Meredith, and had an arm around her.