by Kaylee, Katy
“Of course not. It doesn’t work that way and you know that as well as I do. I have no problem with your sexuality. I do have a problem with my sleeping with a young woman who also occupied your bed.”
“I told you. Nothing happened. She tried, good God she tried. It didn’t do any good. I wasn’t interested, I was limp and eventually she gave up and became my mother. Yes, you heard me there. She became my mother. I let her do the cooking, wash my clothes, clean up after me and earn whatever little money we had that went straight to the landlord. She did it all, I did nothing but play, just like you see me doing now. She had enough, and she left because of it. Is that what you’re going to do? Are you going to ask me to leave?”
I shuffled my feet, looking at the carpet and the crumbs of Cheetos. “Under the circumstances, it might be the best thing.”
“I thought you might say something like that.” Macon nodded with a knowing look and began wrapping up his video games. “That’s how you do it, isn’t it? When it becomes difficult, you look the other way. You have always done that. Well, Dad, it’s okay. I’m used to it.”
“Here, this should be enough to find yourself somewhere decent to live for a few months. I’m here, but it’s time you run your own life, however you choose.”
“There you go, that was simple enough, wasn’t it? Once again, you turn your head and look the other way because it’s simpler that way. Let’s hope Christina doesn’t need much from you. Let’s hope she can truly take care of herself. Keep your money.”
“No, take it. It’s not guilt money. You’re my son and I love you. I’m concerned about what happens to you and I don’t want you living in some filthy alley.”
“You mean like the one where I lived with Christina?”
I had to admit, that stung. I didn’t want to think of either one of them is having called such a place home. I knew I couldn’t keep him with me. We’d rub against each other constantly and eventually, it could even come to blows. It had nothing to do with Christina. I could have seen to it that she had a nice place to live and I could’ve stayed there with her. This wasn’t about rejection of Macon, either. He was right. He knew what he was doing. He had chosen his life and it was time I left him to it. I tossed the pile of bills onto his game console. “Buy yourself a cell phone, will you? Let me know the number and keep in touch.” I turned around and left the house, driving to the end of the block and waiting. I’d catch her before she walked in on him. I didn’t want her hurt. Two of us were already miserable, and it sounded as though she’d already done her time.
10
Christina
I went to Nathan’s burrow that night, prepared to cook dinner and avoid looking and Macon’s direction, no matter how hard he provoked me. It was a new game and I was learning the rules. There was one thing for sure though, Nathan was smart and eventually he’d catch on. Imagine my surprise when I discovered he already had and that Macon was gone.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” I told him. “He needs you.”
“And you don’t?”
“I’m different. I know how to take care of myself, I’ve been doing it long enough. Macon never learned that. Besides, he’s your family and I’m not.”
“Don’t waste your energy feeling sorry for him, Christina. Macon makes his choices as he goes and he has to live with the outcome. I do love him. And you’re right, he is my son. But, he’s a man on his own and he has to learn things himself. I can’t tell them. Anyway, I don’t want to give you up.”
“If you say so.”
As a days went by, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had somehow ruined Macon’s life. There was no telling how low he would stoop to remain an object of pity. That’s how he’d played me all those months and I could see then that it was the same technique he used with his father. I loved Nathan, but our life together had changed. My stomach was a constant cement mixer and my nerves were shot. I started to miss days at work and naturally, my bank account reflected that. Nathan saw what was going on and wanted to help.
“Move in with me,” he begged. “That trailer isn’t a decent place for you to live. I worry about you.”
“Don’t. Don’t worry about me, that just makes it worse for me.”
“Give up the trailer and move in here with me.”
“I need my space, Nathan. That’s nothing against you, believe me when I say that. It’s just that I’ve been on my own for so long, it’s the only way I know. Even when there was someone else living in the trailer, I lived alone, in my head and came and went as I pleased.”
“You can do that here, too. I won’t keep tabs on you. I just don’t want to lose you.”
“Don’t push me, Nathan, please don’t. It will only push me further away. Let me get there on my own and in my own time.”
His shoulders sagged. He was feeling defeated. I suppose from his point of view I couldn understand it. His son had left and now I was close to doing the same thing and he done nothing wrong, nothing to deserve it. Life just worked out that way sometimes, and it was crap. But what was anybody going to do.
That’s when everything changed. I was feeling crappy in the mornings. There was that dark little voice in the back of my head whispering about the night that I’d slept with Nathan and lied about being on birth control. I knew when I did it there would be recriminations. Damn! Couldn’t I get even the smallest break? I chose Thursday simply because it was Thursday and stopped by the free clinic on my way home. The doctor confirmed my suspicions, solemnly handing out the bottle of prenatal vitamins in a heavy dose of advice. “Do you want to keep it?” He asked.
“Well it wasn’t what I was asking Santa to give me, but it is mine is going to stay that way.”
“There are resources out there for unwed mothers.”
“You mean welfare and food stamps and all those nice little mechanisms the government uses to keep control over you and your child.”
“It’s not all as bad as at,” he pointed out.
“I can do this on my own. I don’t need any handouts.” I saw the look in his eyes, the pity and the disbelief that I was strong enough and capable enough of making ends meet with a young baby in my care. I wasn’t there yet. I had nine months. I’d come up with something in the interim.
I had decisions to make. Sure, I had the trailer, such as it was. I supposed I could make a small nursery in the living area, close enough that I could get to the baby and a few steps. I’d convert the bedroom to a sitting room with a bed. People had done it before me and I could do it, too.
That’s when I made the decision not to go back to the burrow. Nathan already had one problem child, he didn’t need a second. And I was just independent enough to want things my way. He was older, he had money and connections. He could probably even find a way to take the baby away from me, I’d be damned before I let him take it. I was making a stand even though I couldn’t afford it.
11
Nathan
Christina had become a missing person. I knew why and I hated the reason, as well as her decision. Macon must have lied. They must have been much closer than he’d let on. For all I knew, the whole story about him preferring men might have been a bullshit lie to throw me off the trail.
I wondered if Macon had told her that I knew. That would certainly account for why she was giving me a wide berth. She didn’t want to hear the recriminations—didn’t want to argue that she hadn’t known until it was too late. Could I believe that?
That’s when it hit me. Was Christina in on it? Had Macon put her up to getting close to me so they could both milk me out of money? After all, if I were to marry Christina, she would own half of whatever I had. Were they capable of such deception?
I ran my hand down my face, trying to wash away the crap thoughts I was having and focus on the drive to my office. I knew better than to draw such stupid conclusions. I was letting the germs from my patients cover my mental health immunity. Life sucked.
That night I threw a frozen dinner in
the microwave and climbed into my sweats. The computer was dusty. Up to that point, I’d had a life. Christina and Macon had lured me out of it, but that was about to change.
I fired up the dating site where I’d met Christina. The first thing I did was dig into my mail and delete every letter we’d exchanged. I blocked her from seeing my profile and me from seeing hers. I was blocking her from my life in general. I missed the hell out of her, but the possibilities that were running through my brain were tearing up my gut. I needed drain my brain of memories; of her soft skin, the way her eyes sparkled, the warmth of her when I fucked her and the way she held my cock. Jesus! It didn’t matter which buttons I pushed. She was there, forever.
A window popped up. Her name was Libby.
Hi!
Hello
I’ve seen your profile on here and was hoping some day you’d tap me on the shoulder.
Is that right?
I think you’re cute.
She was sucking me down the funnel. Her photo was obviously twenty years old, judging by the hairstyle and her clothing. She wanted me to ask; I could feel it. She was unattractive, easy, and that made her absolutely perfect.
Would you like to meet for a drink?
Really? I’d love that. Where and when?
Can you make The Golden Mug on 4th Street at 9:00?
Tonight?
Sure.
See you there.
I’d never been to The Golden Mug, but the exterior didn’t lie. It was exactly the kind of place I expected. Trashy. Libby blended right in with the other customers. I’d pre-ordered her a beer and she slid onto the stool with a practiced ass. We went through the small talk and her hand strayed, finding its way to my upper thigh, and higher. She grinned and her gums gave away the fact she was wearing dentures. My stomach flopped. Lifting her hand from my leg, I shook it and stood, giving her my arm. Her face lit up as I called a taxi. She asked me to excuse her for the ladies’ room. I nodded and told her I’d meet her out front. Libby sailed out shortly after, an extra poof of perfume trailing behind her. The taxi pulled up and I opened the back door and helped her in. “Enjoyed meeting you,” I said and closed the door, watching the vehicle pull away from the curb.
I felt like crap driving home. I had never planned to sleep with Libby, much less offer her anything more than a drink. I’d become a base human being, all in the name of revenge for something that no one had done to me. I needed to see my own shrink.
When I got home, I took another steaming hot shower, trying to wash off the guilt, the self-recriminations and the feeling that I took advantage of a human being only because I was trained in how the mind works and I had to the power to do it. I was despicable, to say the least.
I flopped naked onto the bed and counted my options. I had thousands, if I wanted to be truthful, but only one that held any appeal whatsoever. I knew what I had to do. I pulled on my sweats and went back to the computer. I gave myself another few minutes to reconsider and then I unblocked Christina’s name. She could also see me then.
The little green dot next to her name was lit. She was online! Fury washed over me. She hadn’t wasted any time getting back into the swing of things. She had simply disappeared from my life and not bothered to tell me why or if she ever wanted to see me again. It made me feel like a fool and every negative thing I could think of to say ran through my head.
Finally, I couldn’t stand it any longer.
Well, you didn’t waste any time.
It’s not what you think.
Oh, really? What else could it be?
Silence. Then finally a response.
Don’t you think it’s just a little arrogant for you to assume I’m on here to find someone to date? Is it possible I just want to talk?
Why can’t you talk to me? Seems like it work much better than talking to strangers.
I wish that were true.
What does that mean?
It means you’re not always the easiest person to talk to, no matter what you think. You tend to apply your values on other people.
You’re crossing a line.
Okay, forget it. Nathan, I miss you.
Then she was gone. Her little green light went away and she took with her a huge part of my life and future. How could someone like me, who knew better, get caught in this snare again? Maybe she was right. Maybe I didn’t listen but heard what I wanted to hear.
12
Christina
Mother of God, how did I get myself into this mess? Every time I took a step forward in what I thought was the right direction, something reached out and put icy hands around my neck to jerk me back. Over and over it happened.
I loved Nathan and somewhere deep inside I still cared for Macon. Macon could never come back into my life because he could never change who he was. I wasn’t even sure we could be friends. It would just be too hard. He wanted a sexless mother and used me to fill a job description of his own making. At the same time, I thought I was there for a different job. It hadn’t been fair to me for him not to let me know. I’d tried to verbalize my disappointments but they’d fallen on deaf ears. Macon never verbalized anything but what he wanted from others. He was very, very good at that.
Now, then there was Nathan. Nathan with the magic tongue and hands. Nathan with an intelligence that made me reach higher, want more. Nathan who was settled in his life, had a home, was a professional and understood the values of family. What had I done to Nathan? Everything and nothing. I carried his child. His seed was growing in my belly and it was the answer to his every prayer. He wanted family—more family than just Macon. Macon the disappointment. I knew Nathan and I could grow a wonderful human being. I just felt that as sure as anything. I could work or be a professional mother. In fact, the latter was what I preferred. I knew Nathan could take care of our financial needs so it was the love, the togetherness that he missed and wanted again. Would that be so bad?
It was killing me not to tell him about the baby, but there was no way I’d allow myself to be an object of pity. If he came back to me it would have to be out of love and need for me—not the baby. That would be hard to determine, but right now it looked like he didn’t need me at all. I’d watched night after night since I’d stopped going over. He’d been online and the little green light next to his name was always lit. I became his stalker, making notes about his timetable. It wasn’t fair, but it was all I had of him. I wondered about the women he met. Would he find a replacement for me? Would he take her to his bed and use his special techniques on her? Would she respond as I had? Would she be forty or twenty-one?
Just what was it about me that had appealed to him? What about me appealed to anyone? He would be horrified if he knew that while I’d been online, I’d been carrying his baby. I had no desire to date anyone—I couldn’t be further from it. But he’d never believe me if I told him that. He would think the worst, and he had the right to.
When I started to think about the rest of my life and how I’d raise a baby, alone, I began to freak out a little. I couldn’t take a baby to work with me, but god knew there was no way I could afford a sitter. I was barely making ends meet as it was. Wasn’t it the father’s role to pitch in? To share the work as well as the rewards? I wasn’t giving Nathan a chance to even offer. I was afraid of his controlling nature. He was smarter and certainly in a better financial position than I was. He was a doctor, for god’s sake. He could show cause in a courtroom why he would make the better single parent. I would be at his mercy. When I started to think about it, look how he’d raised Macon. Did I want to mother another Macon?
The weight of my worries was staggering. I felt like I wanted to start drinking, or smoking, or something. I needed some kind of stress relief but I knew anything I did, the baby would be doing it, too. That made it out of the question.
I knew from my own psychology training that there were resources out there for women in my position. Social services were a big part of what attracted me to the psychology to begin with.
I wanted to help the whole person. Now I was that whole person who needed help.
I knew part of the formula was to develop a schedule and stick to it. This was easier said than done while Nathan had been in my life. His work schedule dictated what I would be doing each and every day. Maybe that’s why I’d felt a little out of control. It made sense that my schedule going forward should involve the process of raising a baby. First, I had to get through the pregnancy, which wasn’t as easy as I’d anticipated.
I was beginning to feel queasy in the morning, and sometimes at inconvenient times throughout the day. More than once I’d had to ask the Uber driver to pull over. And I knew it was only the beginning.
I’d been all over the bed and the blankets had finally given up trying to stay with me and lay on the floor in defeat. I was in that quasi sleep where I couldn’t wake up entirely, and yet the arms of restful sleep denied me. My cell starting ringing and I groaned as I dug for it among the folds of the remaining sheet.
“Hello?”
“Christina, it’s me, Macon.”
“Macon, it’s three in the morning. Shut off the game and go to sleep. Wherever you are.”
“No, that’s not it. I need help, Christina. I can’t call my dad. Please, for the sake of when things were good, would you help me?”
“You don’t sound right. Are you drunk or high?”
“Please, don’t know how long I can hang on. You remember Rocky Park?”
“Sure.”
“Come right now. Grab an Uber. I’m by the statue with the water fountain. Hurry.”
“Macon, you’re drunk, aren’t you?” There was no response and I realized he’d hung up. I dropped the phone on the bed and rolled over, preparing to try and sleep. I wasn’t going to run all over hell looking for a drunk guy on a bicycle. He could take care of himself for a change.
