“Just think about it, okay?” he said as he gathered his things and gave me a quick pat on the back. I nodded my head in affirmation—still speechless.
I returned home around six o’clock feeling calmer, but still unable to decipher my thoughts and feelings when it came to the letter. I walked tentatively through the door and saw Audrey in the kitchen placing uncooked spaghetti into a boiling pot of water. The house smelled of garlic and onion, and my mouth started to water instantly.
“Hi,” I cautiously offered with a humbled tone to my voice.
“Hi,” she replied while stirring the sauce she’d expertly made. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Um, it’s just a lot to process, ya know,” I said, pulling out the garlic bread from its foil package.
“I know. You understand that she’s my sister too. I’ve already made the mistake of extricating myself from her life. Sometimes I think—no, I know that it’s too late for me, but it’s not too late for you. You don’t need to forgive her, but maybe you can understand her, to understand her mistakes.
“I see what you’re doing to yourself. You’re such a bright girl. You have so much going for you. Don’t let your mother’s mistakes ruin the rest of your life. Don’t seek out the only connection you’ve got to her to travel her path. I know that sometimes that seems like the only way you can be close to her. You’re not punishing her by being the same screw up as she was, and still is. You’re not going to forge any connection with her by traveling her path. Choose your own destiny, and separate yourself from her mess. I know you couldn’t before because you were a trapped child, but you’re going to be making your own life decisions very soon. It’s important that you face her so you can detach yourself from her.”
“Why is it too late for you?” I asked.
Audrey paused as she blew on a noodle and slipped it between her lips. She exhaled a few rapid breaths to try to cool the spaghetti on her tongue. “It just is,” she stated plainly.
“Wait. How can you convince me to do something that you’re unwilling to do? Don’t you think that’s a bit hypocritical?” I probed her hoping to acquire more information.
“Let’s just put it this way. My relationship with my mother was good. I have no need to mend a relationship with someone who doesn’t even consider me a relative because we’re not blood.
“I won’t lie to you. Forgiveness isn’t an easy thing, and no one is asking you to forgive her. By facing her maybe you can set yourself free from her. I don’t think she deserves one ounce of anybody’s mercy. But my dear, you deserve so much more—so much more than you ever got from her. Forgiveness and acceptance are two very different things. I guess, maybe I think it’s important for you to accept who she is, and to understand that is not who you need to be.”
I felt as though I was being lectured, and it was not pleasant. As Audrey spoke it occurred to me that it was a bit disappointing to find out that I wasn’t as complicated as I thought I was—she’d pegged me with ease. Although I felt that she hadn’t got me quite right. Was I really bright?
I didn’t know what I was going to do. Why couldn’t this just go away? I would have given anything to be able to just pretend that this letter and this situation didn’t exist. I would have given anything to smoke a joint right now, but that wasn’t going to help me in the end, I decided.
Audrey continued. “Just think about what I said Astrid. I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to do. I just want you to consider all the possibilities.”
I was exhausted. I felt as though I’d been run over by a Mack truck. I couldn’t think straight as I twirled the long slippery strands of pasta around my fork and shoved it into my mouth. I nodded my head in recognition that I understood her as I took my napkin and wiped the leftover sauce from the corners of my mouth. “I’m going to go to my room—no, for a walk, I just need to clear my head.”
“Be careful, and take my cell,” Audrey said as she gave me her cell phone. Mine had been stolen a few weeks ago at school. I never could hang on to cool stuff.
I took her phone as I put on my jacket and I grabbed my keys to drive down to the marina. I just wanted to look out on the water and think, think about nothing, think about everything, and maybe try to come to some kind of resolution.
I pulled my car into the marina parking lot. It was one of the warmest evenings we’d had all year. I took my jacket off and tied it around my waist as I walked among the boats and stared into the murky waters, trying to make some kind of sense of what I wanted.
I thought about what Audrey had said, and how easily she’d seemed to think that she’d pinned me down. I thought about Will, and how he’d made me not only feel but think. I thought about what he’d said, and how much sense it had made. Finally, I thought about myself, this person who I thought I was, or was trying to be. Why? Why didn’t I try harder in school? Why had I made no real plans for myself, for my future? Did I really want to be like my mother? I didn’t know the answers to these questions, but they were questions I’d never taken the time to even think about. I longed to make sense of the jumble of new thoughts, each tied to old memories, but it swirled wildly inside my head like an ominous tornado. Each new idea was swept into a vortex of piercing memories and shattered innocence. As I carried on the conversation with myself, I felt some of the fury that had taken up residence inside my heart for so long begin to dissipate, if only a tiny bit.
I walked along the docks, and I imagined myself playing my guitar and singing to rooms of eager patrons. I thought about anything and everything to distract myself from the inevitable decision. That I would see my mother, A—.
At that very moment, when certain clarity had come over me to calm the tornado of ideas, I came upon Will’s boat. The lights were on, and I made my way down the dock up to the boat. I would have liked to think that I had arrived there by accident, but I knew that this was no accident.
Chapter Fourteen
I flinched as I hopped across the narrow gap and landed onto the deck of the grand sailing cruiser. My heart was fluttering as if it had morphed into a rapid winged hummingbird beating its wings relentlessly inside my apprehensive chest. My voice cracked a little as I summoned up a greeting. “Will, it’s me. Astrid.”
Will emerged from the cabin down below. He was pulling on a plain, slightly soiled white T-shirt over his faded jeans that had the back pocket torn off. A tiny bit of his boxers was peeking through—navy blue plaid. His marbled hair formed a haphazard mess around his perfectly formed face. I loved his opalescent teeth. They were situated almost perfectly with the exception of one slightly twisted incisor that made him even sexier. Sometimes imperfection is unbelievably enticing.
“Hey, what are you doing here?” he asked, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand.
“Um. I was just walking and thinking—maybe trying not to think. I don’t really know—” I exhaled an uneven breath through my nose as I curled my lips around my teeth in a slight display of discomposure.
Will smiled and said, still standing on the steps that led to the cabin below, “I’m glad you’re here. Come on down.” He motioned to me as he headed back down the stairs.
I followed without thinking across the deck and down the steps into the darkened cabin. I descended the steps, my mind busy deciphering how I’d arrived here. I now confirmed what I’d already known—that I’d come here on purpose.
“What’s up,” Will said as he lounged back on the couch.
“I—I just wanted to apologize for lashing out at you earlier today about A—. We don’t really know each other all that well, and—well, so, you probably think I’m crazy, huh.” I mangled my words as they transcended from lucid thoughts to a mumbling mess.
“I don’t think anybody knows you all that well,” Will said with a hint of smugness.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
Will leaned forward and captured me with his deep-set eyes. I’d never noticed before that his eyebrows looked as
though two black caterpillars had perched themselves perfectly above his smoldering eyes, another alluring imperfection. “I mean that I don’t think anybody really knows you. You keep everyone at arm’s length, don’t you?” He paused, inhaled deeply and tentatively continued. “What’s so scary about having at least one person in the world know you, deeply and perfectly?”
“Oh, and I suppose you think that person is going to be you?” I said with deep sarcasm.
“Maybe,” he replied with only a hint of the sarcasm I’d thrown his way.
“Knock it off, I’m trying to apologize to you. Stop messing around,” I said, trying to deflect him as I playfully punched him in the arm.
I sat down next to him on the couch and grabbed the loose leaf paper that was on the seat next to him. I was looking at a paper filled with half notes, quarter notes, and a sprinkling of eighth notes, and asked, “What’s this?”
“I’m working on something,” he said as he took the paper out of my hands.
I took the paper back out of his hands, and perused the notes on the page matching them to their corresponding sounds. What I heard inside my head was a bewitching melody that played itself out inside of my head. “This is really good,” I said with a sincerity that sparked across the couch.
“I wrote it for you, so you could play it on your new guitar—when you get it, that is.”
“Y—You wrote this for me to play?” I couldn’t believe it.
I felt as though I’d been turned inside out. Every inch of me exposed to him. It was joyously painful. Without warning I forcefully launched myself across the couch and pressed my lips firmly against his soft full mouth. When I realized what I’d done I abruptly pulled my head back from his face, breathing deeply and vigorously as I searched his face for some type of response. I felt his fingers slide up behind my neck as he nestled them into my thick mass of hair. Then, just as suddenly his lips were pressed to mine. I felt the intensity and ferocity in each flutter of his mouth and tongue. My mouth reciprocated each movement, and my hands wandered down his chest as I pulled off his shirt.
He took both hands and cradled my face as he drew his head back. “I want to know you, deeply and perfectly.” I felt unclosed, and sensed the craving that enclosed both of us.
I pressed my face against his bare chest and wrapped my arms around his narrow, toned waist. His hands deftly moved through my hair as I felt his lips delicately touch the top of my head. “Will you just hold me for a little while,” I beseeched. He stretched his long frame along the couch, and pulled my body against his as he slid one hand around my waist, while the other stroked the hair away from my face. I could feel his warm moist breath wafting down the nape of my neck. I must have been exhausted because I fell asleep almost immediately. I woke up to the sound of Audrey’s cell phone.
I sat up feeling groggy as I inspected my surroundings. Everything looked foreign, and it took me what seemed like an interminable amount of time (which in actuality was just couple of seconds) to remember where I was. As I came out of my stupor, I realized that it must have been very late. I scrambled for the cell phone and checked the missed call. It was Audrey. And it was one in the morning.
“Oh shit!” I blurted.
“What, what’s going on?” Will sat up, scratching his head.
“We must’ve fallen asleep. I gotta go,” I said as I grabbed my jacket and raced up the steps.
Will followed after me. “Let me walk you to your car. It’s late.”
“Fine, but be quiet. I’ve gotta call Audrey, and try to explain.”
Will gave a slick smile, and then placed his index finger over his mouth as I dialed the number to the house. I had to think quickly, but nothing was coming to my numb, still asleep mind. Audrey picked up the other end. “Astrid, where are you? Are you okay?” I could hear the worry in her voice had reached a near fever pitch.
“I’m fine. I—I was just at um, Evan’s house, a—a—and I fell asleep. I’m on my way home right now.” I prattled on as Will stood beside me, leaning on my car gently rubbing my back as I spoke on the phone. “Okay, okay. I’ll be home in about ten minutes.” I hung up the phone and realized that I needed to call Evan to cover my ass. Will slipped his hand around my waist and pulled me closer to him. I flexed my hand and placed it on his chest to signal that my business was not yet done. “Hey Evan. It’s me, Astrid. Um, if Audrey calls you, I fell asleep at your house tonight.” I left the voice message and was satisfied that the incident would pass without any major complications.
I hopped in my car and Will shut the door. Will motioned to me with his index finger to roll down the window. I leaned my head out of the window as he leaned down and gently kissed my quivering mouth. “I’ll call you tomorrow okay,” he said as he stood up tall and full of composure. I could feel my cheeks rush with liquid heat until they felt fevered. I smiled at him rolled up the window, and waved to him as the blood drained out of my face and traveled to parts unknown—at least to Will.
The last few weeks of school flew by without incident. I’d spoken to Will a few times at school, but had been distracted with finals. He’d made a habit of stopping by the house in the evenings where we’d watch TV and play music. I’d been practicing the song he wrote for me on my new guitar that I’d finally been able to set free with the last payment. Will was learning how to play on my old guitar during our evenings together. Nervousness had been replaced by serenity. I felt as though I didn’t have to put on the camouflage of an impenetrable creature when I was with him. I still didn’t quite understand what qualities he saw in me that kept him coming back. At times though, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of impending doom; when was the other shoe going to drop? I’d sometimes lay in bed late into the night and wonder when he would show his true self. Nobody could actually be what they seem, the undermining voice of false reason echoed inside my head.
One evening, Will and I were lazing on the couch. He was enthralled with a Tigers game, and I was content just sitting beside him.
He turned his head from the game, and said, “So, are you gonna visit your mother?”
I turned my head toward the television set, and said, devoid of much emotion, “I haven’t decided.”
There was a long and what I felt was a disapproving tone to his silence.
“I thought you decided to go?” he said.
“I know, I know. It’s just hard to find the time—the right time anyway.”
“I think you should just go, and get it over with—start your senior year with nothing hanging over your head.”
I paused, and thought long and hard about what he’d said. I should get it over with, I thought. I was tired of A— hanging like an albatross around my neck. “Okay, you’re right, Audrey’s right, everyone’s right,” I exclaimed resentfully. “I’ll go next week.” And with a deep sigh I said, “You’re right, I need to just get this over with, and outta my head.”
Chapter Fifteen
It’s funny how some people remember an important day. Some people can tell you exactly what they were doing at that precise moment. The day I drove to meet A—, I didn’t remember in any conventional terms—by the day of the week or the fragrance of the seasons. It could have been any day as far as I was concerned. I couldn’t tell you if it was a Monday or Tuesday, or any other day of the week. A flat tire was the touchstone for the memory of my trip to see my mother.
I was just on the outskirts of Charlevoix, driving south down US 31, when my car jerked to one side. I felt the tilt of the car and smelled the fiery stench of the onyx rubber being skinned from its metal core as it grated against the black top. I made my way to the shoulder and investigated the problem… Flat tire. That flat tire would signal a coming storm, a change in the way I perceived everything. That flat tire led to the sequence of events that changed my existence—my eventuality.
I pulled over on the narrow shoulder and opened the trunk of the belching Volkswagen as it spewed forth into the air a blue film of noxious smoke that c
oated my lungs. Should’ve turned off the engine. I tried to look composed as I became increasingly more terrified at my core. I had no idea what to do—the spare tire I’d located, along with what I thought to be the jack, was as foreign to me as snow in summer.
I stood alongside the freeway with vehicles screaming and whipping past me, blowing my hair up into the wind. For a split second, I imagined what would happen if I just stepped one foot out in front of those cars. How fast would it happen? The thought infused me with a sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach that extended up to my throat.
I held the jack in one hand as I stared across the highway. The spare tire leaned itself against the passenger side of the car. I knelt down and fidgeted with the nuts that were firmly set on the wheel. I would have to have been a heavy weight wrestler to remove any piece of the wheel. I tried in vain a few more minutes until I placed the crossbar down in order to commence panicking.
As I sat there feeling defeated by apparently the only solid piece of equipment on the stinking piece of crap VW, I remembered Audrey had tried to give me her phone to take, which I dismissed as unnecessary (I supposed that I had engineered this fiasco in some way). Maybe she’d slipped the phone in my purse or car when I wasn’t looking. She was notorious for giving me things that I had already turned down. For example, she was always trying to send me out the door with a snack like Cheddar goldfish. I don’t even like them, but she was on a never-ending quest to get rid of them. Maybe she’d won a lifetime supply on one of those game shows or something, I thought. I’d always told her no thanks, but there in my purse or stuffed in the glove compartment of my car was always a little clear Ziploc baggie of cheddar goldfish, which I usually dumped off at the first trash can I spotted. Oh please, don’t have reserved your Audrey knows best craziness for just cheddar goldfish! I dumped out my bag on the front seat. Among the pennies and fast food receipts were an array of Chapsticks, but no phone. Crap! I then quickly moved to the glove box where I grabbed all of its contents and threw them on the floorboard. I used my hands and searched every corner of the glove box as well as the holdings that formed a disorderly pile on the floor. No phone! I took a moment to scan the car, thinking like a crack detective. Where would she have put the phone? It couldn’t be hidden someplace too conspicuous where I’d find it too quickly and hand it back to her. It had to be someplace easy enough in case I needed it, but not too hard so that I couldn’t find it. There was nothing like playing a game of cat and mouse with.... yourself.
The Idyllic Chaos of My So-Called Life Page 15
