by Felix, Lila
That’s how she’d been, alone in marriage, enthralled in love but love was never enthralled in her.
And my father couldn’t even handle himself.
I hated him.
I hated who he’d made me to be.
I hated the deterioration he brought my mom.
And I wouldn’t bring it to Hayes.
I wouldn’t let her deteriorate me.
I gunned my truck all the way to my apartment and then proceeded to slam and curse the walls like a bull in a room full of china dolls.
Sometimes there was no separating me from my dad. Who he was, even though it wasn’t his fault, had somehow become who I was. It would almost be easier if the shrinks would just tell me I was a schizo. That way I’d at least have an excuse. But no…I was this undiagnosed mad man, determined to keep everyone at arm’s length.
Hayes would probably never speak to me again.
My lips were already quaking in need for more of her.
I’m in trouble.
Hayes
Who walks out on pizza? An assmunch, that’s who!
As he walked out and slammed my door I realized I had two choices. Number one: Let him go. Ignore him the next time I saw him. Live through the wretched silence. Wait until he goes away. And then there was choice number two: Get in his face and let him know that his piss fit wasn’t enough to drive me away. That I had no pity for him. I didn’t do pity. I’d experienced enough of it myself to know how humiliating it was. Maybe that’s what he needed—someone who wasn’t going to let him force them out. He’d said that. He’d said there was someone who burrowed under the skin, someone he could trust.
I needed the help of my derby wife.
Getting on my phone, I climbed the stairs, “Nellie? It’s Hayes. I know it’s out of your way, but can you pick me up for the bout?”
She answered affirmatively with a promise, making me promise to tell her what was up.
“I will tell you everything.”
Half an hour later, I was spilling my guts to a car filled with Nellie, Owen and their son, Cyrus. She assured me it would all be kept hush hush but Owen had a smirk on his face that I just didn’t trust.
“He’s such an ass.”
Owen chuckled loudly, “It runs in the family.”
She slapped him on the shoulder, “He’s not technically related, Owen.”
“I know, we’ll call it environmental sculpting. He acts like us because he’s been around us so long.”
Nellie rolled her eyes at him.
“So what’s your plan? What if he’s not even there?”
“If he’s not there, I will go to his apartment. Someone has to drop me there or something. But he’s not getting away with that bullshit attempt.”
Nellie and Owen exchanged a look and then Owen shook his head, “Yep. She’s gonna fit right in.”
We got to the rink and I changed into my outfit. I was too pissed to do it earlier. The other team from Lafayette was already there. They were a great team, really friendly—all about the derby sisterhood. Again Nellie volunteered me and herself to participate in the mock bout. I could see Maddox and Owen but Asshole was still MIA. His name had been changed to Asshole in my mind even though I didn’t really think he was an Asshole. Plus, it was only temporary—maybe.
“I want you out there as Jammer. You need the practice.”
I nearly clocked her, “You’re insane. I’m not a speed skater. I’m barely even considered a skater.”
“Bullshit. You’re a good skater. I’ve seen you.”
“No.”
She cocked an eyebrow and I knew I was in trouble, “Fine. I’m not gonna help you with Mr. Sexy Rexy anymore.”
“I don’t need your help.”
I realized we were both standing there in front of the team, battling it out.
“Get on the damned line before I lay you out right here in front of your crushy wushy.”
“What’s a crushy wushy?”
“Him.”
She turned me by my shoulders and pointed out in the crowd to Rex whose face was suddenly void of color.
“Come on, don’t make me embarrass myself.”
“What’s more embarrassing, skating Jammer or me announcing on the mic about you and Rex’s tryst?”
At that point we weren’t even serious anymore, both of us were smiling, but we were also partly putting on a show.
I got in her face, “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Oh, I would in a heartbeat.”
“Fine, you win.”
“Please, I always win.”
Before I knew it, I was lined up with the other Jammer from the other team waiting for the second whistle. I could see Nixon skating around the inside making sure everyone was in line. I didn’t want to pull a False Start—skating before the second whistle was blown, going out before I was supposed to.
I heard the whistle in my head and skated out as hard as my legs and feet would take me. I rounded the corners perfectly but as I came behind the pack of blockers, I got stuck. But soon some of my own team helped let me through and I saw Nixon keeping time with me, his arms indicated that somehow I was the lead Jammer. But then the other Jammer from the other team was right next to me and she was on the verge of breaking through the pack again. I couldn’t let her score, so I motioned, arms head to hips, putting a stop to the jam and the other team’s points.
“You did great,” Nellie coddled when I got to the bench.
“I didn’t score.”
“But guess what?”
“What?”
“Neither did they.”
She skated out and made my former run look like a joke. She continued to make me Jammer over and over until by the end of the night my legs were wobbly and I had a bruise the size of Bayou Manchac getting angrier by the second. But it was the most fun I’d had skating in a while.
“Look, he left out early. He’s such a chicken.”
I looked over to find Owen and Cyrus were the only ones left of the Black family.
“Drop me off?”
“Do I get to watch?”
“No.”
“I guess we still will drop you off then. You’re no fun.”
I couldn’t even figure out why I was so invested in this guy. But I was. And it went way beyond the fact that we’d had more than one date. He felt so kindred to me. Like there was something deep inside of him that connected with something deep inside of me.
I just had to find out what it was.
Nellie dropped me off with a ‘Kick his ass, Hayes.” I climbed the stairs, noting his truck was parked in the alleyway. I was physically whipped and starving. But a nudge in my gut told me that what I was about to do would be worth it.
I knocked on his door and waited. I didn’t hear anything inside, but I knocked again just for good measure. Then I heard footsteps and the door opened just an inch or so.
“Hayes?”
“Oh, so you can speak.”
His hair was markedly wet and dripping down his face. He must’ve been in the shower.
“Yeah, um, I was kinda in the shower.”
“No shit. I’m coming in, so you can either let me in now or I can bang on the door all night with my skates. Your choice.”
He barely contained his smile and then opened the door.
“Can I finish my shower?”
“Be my guest.”
His apartment was sparse, a typical bachelor pad. I pretended to look towards his kitchen area while he walked back into the bathroom, but there was a mirror above the sink that reflected the one in the bathroom and it gave me the perfect shot of him walking into the bathroom, towel only. I could see something shiny glinting on his shoulder blades, but I couldn’t tell what they were. I’d have to investigate it later—if he let me.
He had a simple double bed with white sheets neatly tucked and puckered around the mattress and gray comforter. His couch was a leather futon, typical of a guy, I supposed. But I saw no pictures, of him o
r family. There was nothing on the walls at all except near the front door, a school calendar, telling him the holidays and dates for Christmas break.
He spent little time in the bathroom but came back out, still with a towel on.
Maybe he intends to apologize to me like that.
I’d forgive him anything if he did.
“I wasn’t expecting company. I forgot to grab my clothes, sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry about.”
He blushed. I’d never made a guy blush. I didn’t’ even know it was possible until then. Ducking back into the bathroom I heard the sink come on. I stared out of his miniscule window which overlooked the alley and some diner.
“Why are you here,” his baritone voice dragged me back from my thoughts and into the room.
“I’m just here to make you understand.”
“And what exactly do I need to understand?”
“That your little temper tantrum isn’t going to make me run.”
“You should. You should run. I’m not worth the trouble.”
“And what if I said I’d been told the same thing once.”
I still hadn’t faced him. I was basically having a conversation with his very dusty eggshell shaded mini blinds.
“Who would ever tell you that? You’re damned near perfect.”
“Hazel. My own sister told me once that all the trouble my parents were going through to make my life better was a waste of time. And I’m not perfect—my scars are deep and shallow at the same time.”
“You’d have to make concessions to be with me, that’s not fair to you.”
“So would you.”
“It would be worth it on my end.”
Now he was really pissing me off. So I turned my fury around with my body to meet him head on. “And it would on my end too.”
He sat on the single man’s couch and with elbows propped on his knees he angrily knotted his fingers in the longer hair on the top of his head. But I wouldn’t go to him—yet.
“My mom died loving someone who broke her heart every day.”
I’d broken him already and while I thought it would be a victory—it felt like the doomiest of defeats.
“Your dad didn’t love her?”
“When he was lucid, yes. When he wasn’t, no. He spent more than ninety percent of his days in the non-lucid part. It wasn’t his fault. I know that. He couldn’t help his illness. But it ran her into the ground. The cancer killed her body, but taking care of him smashed her heart every single day.”
My legs just couldn’t hold me up anymore, not from the confessions but from sheer exhaustion. I sat on the edge of his bed and mulled the whole thing over in my head. His childhood couldn’t have been easy. I didn’t even know what kind of illness his father had, but caring for a mentally unstable parent couldn’t have been a breeze. That must’ve been why he was so isolated and, in his own words, had a skeleton social skills set. Now wonder he was so skittish all the time.
But he had no idea how stubborn I was about to become.
“So you have the same thing, whatever your dad had?”
He jerked up and swiftly turned his head my way, “No. Am I that unbalanced?”
I shrugged, “You are a little hot and cold. Let’s face the facts. We were fine at the restaurant. Then you froze up after talking to Vera. Then you gave me the best kiss of my life and stormed out like a toddler on crack. But that wasn’t really the point.”
It was an oddity, feeling as if we were having a self-exposing breakthrough but feeling so physically lonely at the same time. I could remember having these conversations with my parents who instinctively held me while we talked it through. But this man, one that I craved to hold me, had confined himself away from me.
“Do you have a point?” He sounded like a tempestuous child when he tried to be angry.
“I do. If you’ve not been diagnosed with anything like your father had, then you’re just making a choice to be angry and all around broodified.”
“That’s not a word.”
“Don’t change the subject.”
“I’ve never had a reason to make that choice before.”
I threw myself back on the bed and groaned. I just wanted to flick him in the forehead, snapping him out of his funk. I startled, feeling the bed depress next to me. I turned my head to see him kneeled on the floor, face down on the bed.
“I suck at happy.”
I laughed, making us both bounce on the bed, “Well then, you’ve picked the right girl. I’m a pro at happy, even when I’m not actually happy. I make angry cower in the corner and cry like a girl.”
He looked up at me, “Tell me what to be happy about right now.”
“Are you serious? You’ve got a hot chick in your bed. And…she’s a roller derby diva. Come on.”
And then he laughed.
“You did great tonight.”
“I did not. But I loved it. Although…now I’m starving and my legs feel like they’ve been put through a clothes wringer. I missed the team after party and pizza to go see some guy.”
“Lucky guy. He didn’t even feed you?”
“Not yet. I was planning on making him grovel with gifts of food.”
He walked his fingers across the bed and with the pad of his thumb he traced the outline of my lips. A shiver broke through me, revealing raised goosebumps along my arms.
“Nevermind, he’s forgiven,” I whispered, his thumb still on my top lip.
He chuckled, “He doesn’t feel forgiven. Let’s go get you some food.”
“And then you have to take me back home.”
He nodded, got up and offered me his hand. I stood in front of him, our chests touching, his vibrant brown eyes bore down on me. “The next time you run out on me like that you’re on your own. I only chase once,” I breathed to him, trying to hold on to one last sliver of self-preservation.
“I think you got under the skin tonight, Angel.”
I liked that—Angel. Though I’d never thought of myself as anything remotely close to an angel. But from him, it sounded like a prayer.
Falcon
I’m thinking about living in grey sweatpants forever.
I was stretched too thin again. I always was, but this time holes were breaking out and I had not much left to give. I chose between Owen and Maddox and decided Owen was the man for the job. He would arrive any minute, not knowing why I called him. I finished the dishes while Reed was outside with the babies, each in their own bouncer, vibrating chairs. I dried my hands off as I heard a car pull into the driveway and knew it was my oldest brother. He came in and sat down in Reed’s massage chair.
He played with the switches until he finally let out an ‘Ahhh’ and laid back.
“What’s up?”
He was always so nonchalant, ‘whatever man’ about everything. But his attitude would change when I asked him this favor. It was hard. Despite the fact that I knew what had to be done and who my priority was, it was hard to pass the torch to someone else. I’d always handled everything, mostly to the detriment of myself. And though I hadn’t dared bring it up with Reed, because like me she’d sacrifice her own health for the health of another, it had to be settled.
“I need you to take over with mom and her treatments.”
“Yeah.” He said, eyes closed, vibrating into a coma.
“I’m serious, Owen. I have twins now and Reed’s struggling with the new mom thing. I need you here.”
He pointed me with a stare, “Ok, yeah, I’m sorry. Tell me when and where and I’m there.”
“She has treatments on Mondays and Wednesdays at ten in the morning. And you’ve got to make sure she’s okay before you leave her at home again. There’s just so much Dad can do.”
“So how bad does it get?”
“She gets sick to her stomach but the meds they give her to curb it make her sleepy, so get her home, make her take her medicine and then wait until she gets to sleep. And don’t let her talk you out of taking it. W
e want her to throw up as little as possible, she’s lost enough weight.”
“What else can I do,” he asked stopping the massage and sitting up in the chair.
“Just that. Make sure Dad has something to eat and make sure she’s got all her stuff before you leave for the hospital.”
He shook his head and in those few seconds I wondered how long it would take Mad to get to the house. I thought Owen was backing out.
“No, I meant what else can I do for you?”
“For me?”
“Yeah, you’re always trying to juggle everything at once. But Nellie and I are pretty settled right now. Can I do anything else for you?”
This is why I loved Owen, when we were kids and now as adults, he was so crotchety on the outside but deep down, the depth of him, he was just like my dad. He’d give anything for his family.
“I think we’re gonna be fine. I just want to be free to be here all the time. Maybe get Hellie to take Reed to lunch or something.”
“Yeah, I can do that. I’ve got to get to the bout. Call me if you need anything. You know that.”
“I do, brother. Thank you.”
Owen got up and I did too. I walked him to the door and then he did something very uncharacteristic of my burly older sibling. He hugged me tight, fast and hard and before I could reciprocate, he was gone.
“Dude, did Owen just hug you?”
I made a 180 to see Reed just inside the backdoor, holding both of our girls and smiling.
“You can’t deny it. I should’ve taken a video or something. Why didn’t he come see me?”
She pouted her bottom lip out like her best friend had left without a hello. That’s how she was with everyone. I’d never seen her meet a stranger. She even talked to people in the lines at the grocery store.
“Because he had to get to the bout. Now, what do you want for dinner? I’m cooking.”
I took Veyda from her, kissing her cheeks. She now smelled like baby laced with that great outdoor smell of Reed’s garden. They were both fast asleep and I darted outside to get the seats before they were rained on. My wife sat on a stool at the island. She had that look on her face.
“What’s wrong, Poppy?”
“You can’t help your mom because of me. The back door was open.”
