Enough

by Dawn L. Chiletz

  I’m brought out of my thoughts when Grandma Kay speaks.

  “Ready to get to fixin’ that heart?”

  I nod as I wipe my mouth with my napkin, stand, and place my plate in the sink. “I’m ready to forget.”

  We get to work on the door, and as my brush swipes the fresh coat of red on the edge, I feel a sudden sadness. I love Mike. I really love him. How could I have been so wrong about the kind of man he is? How could he leave me just when I need him the most? I hear Grandma Kay clear her throat and notice she’s staring at me. “What?” I ask.

  “Do you remember the last time we painted this door?”

  My mind zeroes in on the last time my heart was broken. It wasn’t Nick. It was when my parents died. How could I have forgotten? My heart aches as I think back to the day after their funeral when I saw my grandmother standing at my bedroom door, holding the can of paint.

  My head falls as I squint my eyes. “I remember.”

  “Your mama loved you so much, child. Your daddy did, too. He was my heart, God bless ‘im. But I know losing your mom was the hardest of all. I never saw a bond quite like yours before in all my years. You were the joy of her existence.”

  A breeze rushes over me and for a moment, I believe I can smell her perfume. I see her in my mind, smiling at me as we all painted the door together when Nick and I broke up.

  “I know,” I mumble. “I miss her every single day.”

  Grandma Kay nods her head. “I know you do.” She stops painting and places her brush on the edge of the can. “After you fell asleep last night, I dozed off in the family room, watching an old rerun of Friends. I had a dream about her. She told me she wanted me to tell you that she loves you.”

  “Really?” My eyebrows crease. Deep in my bones, I long for her arms around me.

  “She also told me to do something. I’m not sure you’re going to be very happy with me, but I need to tell you because I don’t think you’ll want to keep painting this door after I tell you what I did.”

  I lie down my brush as a sudden rush of concern washes over me. I furrow my brows and cross my arms. “What did you do, Gram?”

  She sighs. “I called his parents. I told them. They had a right to know what their son was about to walk away from.”

  My jaw drops to the ground. Never in a million years did I expect to hear that. I uncross my legs and jump up from the step. My hands sweep into my hair as I hold them against my head. “Please tell me you’re joking!”

  “Well, I figure your mama is in heaven and they don’t make errors in judgement up there.”

  “It was a dream! You called them based on a dream? Oh my God, Gram!” I begin to pace.

  “Now dammit, Ev. Don’t use God’s name in vain. It you want to swear, then go ahead, but keep Him out of it. His name is for praying and thanking.”

  I stare at her in disbelief as I’m pacing. Mike’s going to be furious. His father is hard on him as it is. This will probably send them, and him, over the edge. “What did they say? What did you say?” I question fearfully.

  “I told them you were pregnant and that Michael suggested it would be best if you terminated the baby. I told them he hadn’t contacted you in days and that you were going to raise the baby on your own if he didn’t step up and take responsibility for his actions.”

  My mouth hangs open. It took some big-ass balls to call them like that, but everyone who knows my grandmother knows that Kaylynn London has balls of steel and doesn’t back down from anything. “How did they respond?”

  “They were kinda groggy. I guess it wasn’t the best way to be woken up, but I had somethin’ to say and I was gonna say it!”

  Grandma Kay’s hands fly to her hips. I know she means well, but oh crap… She really did a number on my newfound plans. I close my eyes and place my fingers back into my hair, scratching and scrunching it as I try to think what to do.

  “I know it wasn’t how you wanted to handle it, but that boys’ parents had a right to know. They weren’t very happy with their son, I can tell you that!”

  Just as she speaks her last word, my phone starts to buzz in my back pocket. I reach back for it without taking my eyes off of her. As I lift it into view, I glance down to see Mike’s name and face on the screen. Oh boy…

  “It’s him,” I whisper as if he’ll hear me. I place the phone to my ear as I accept the call.

  “Everly?” he asks.

  “Hello,” I respond firmly. Upon hearing his voice, I’m reminded of how angry I am with him for how he treated me the last time I saw him.

  “She called my parents! She called my fucking parents!”

  “Yeah, I know,” I respond. “So what?”

  “So what? Are you serious? Why would you have her call them? We could have discussed this like adults. We didn’t need to get our families involved.”

  “Uh, last time I checked, we did discuss it and you were anything but adult about it. You acted like I had the plague. You haven’t reached out to me in almost four days, Mike. Four days of me dealing with this on my own. Of knowing you didn’t want it and didn’t give a shit about me.”

  “That’s not true. I do care about you. I’m confused and overwhelmed. I just needed some time to think. To process everything.”

  “God d—” I glance over at my grandmother and remember her correction. “Gosh darn it, Mike. I thought you loved me. I thought you’d be there for me, but you pretty much told me you didn’t want the baby and that I needed to make a decision. That’s not support. That’s leaving me on my own, which is what I am now and how I will raise my child. On my own!”

  “So now it’s yours? You kept correcting me to ours and now it’s yours? Come on… And what could you have possibly had to gain by having her call them? Do you know I’ve been on the phone with them half the night? I barely got any sleep.”

  I roll my eyes and Grandma Kay sits down on the step with her arms crossed. “You poor thing!” I offer with fake pity. “You barely got any sleep last night? I’ve barely slept in days. I’m scared and alone.”

  “You’re not alone,” he responds in a hush.

  “Yes, I am, and that’s fine with me.”

  I hear a car door slam and turn to see him approaching me. He must have been sitting on the street this whole time. He slips his phone into his pocket. Grandma Kay leaps from her sitting position and makes a beeline for the house, giving us some privacy. If I know her at all, she’ll be watching from inside.

  “Hi,” he states in a whisper.

  “Hi,” I respond with my arms wrapped around me. I wasn’t expecting to see him, and the shock of his presence makes me tremble.

  “I’m sorry for being so selfish. This is our child, and I should have never put this all on you. I do love you and I will be there for you and this baby if you’ll have me.”

  I stare in utter shock. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “I know I fucked up, Everly. Give me a chance to make this right.”

  I nod my head as the tears begin to flow. He softly kisses my lips and wraps me in an embrace. Although I know I should feel better, something inside me clicks and makes me more afraid than I was before.

  I REMOVE THE plastic wrap from his dinner plate and place it in the microwave. It’s after nine, and he should be home at any minute. I put the kids to bed at eight thirty as usual and rushed into a hot shower. I brushed out my hair and applied a little gloss to my lips. I put on my silky robe and changed into my nice underwear.

  After I ended my call with Gwen, I seriously thought about all Mike and I have been through. There must have been a reason we were together, and I need to try harder to make it work and be more of the wife he needs, to be there for him and support him. Maybe once he sees how hard I’m trying, he’ll try harder too.

  I take the plate from the microwave and position it neatly on the table. I hear the garage door open and I jump. Roscoe barks lightly to warn me he’s heard a noise. I pat him on the head nervously. Mike and I haven’t bee
n intimate in over six months, and I’m really putting myself out there, hoping he’ll still be attracted to me.

  He opens the door and Roscoe rushes to him, tail wagging. Mike doesn’t bend to pet him, and after a few seconds, Roscoe trots away. His tie is hanging loosely from his neck and he seems tired. I feel bad for giving him a hard time earlier. He places his briefcase on the dryer and strolls into the kitchen. His eyes dart to me as he notices I’m waiting for him.

  “Hi,” I say.

  He nods his head at me as he takes out his wallet and places it and his keys on the kitchen counter.

  “I’m sorry about earlier today,” I continue. “Things were just really crazy and I was close to losing my mind when you called.”

  He stares at me briefly, not saying a word. He ambles toward the stairs.

  “Mike,” I call out to stop him.

  He sighs and turns to face me. He’s already two steps up.

  “I made you a plate. Are you hungry?” I ask as sweetly as I can muster.

  “I ate at the office.” He turns and continues up the stairs.

  I stare after him for a moment in disbelief. It’s not how I saw the night going. I make my way to the table and glare at his plate of food, trying to decide if I should put it in the fridge or throw it away. If he sees I threw it away, he’ll say I’m wasting his hard-earned money. I re-cover it and place it in the fridge.

  I consider pulling out the kids’ lunch bags and making their lunches for school tomorrow but think better of it and decide to try to talk to him again.

  I head up the stairs and toward our bedroom. He’s standing in a t-shirt and his boxers in the bathroom, brushing his teeth. I lean on the doorframe and cross my arms.

  “Rough day?”

  His eyes meet mine in the mirror’s reflection, and he nods as he spits out his toothpaste. “As if you didn’t know.”

  I sigh. “I said I was sorry.”

  “And I heard you the first time,” he responds as he wipes his face with a hand towel and hurries past me.

  I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and realize I look as ridiculous as I feel. Am I trying to seduce him? What am I even doing?

  I turn on my heel and follow him to the bedroom. He’s setting his clock. It’s only nine fifteen and he’s going to sleep. That’s odd.

  I don’t know what to do with myself, so I sit on the edge of the bed.

  “Is there something you want, Everly?”

  My eyes fall to the floor. Can’t he see I’m trying? “I wanted to talk to you,” I respond. “I hate how awful things are between us and I hoped to try to make things right.”

  “And you thought a silky robe, a dinner plate, and a little conversation would be enough to do that at this point?” he questions with a squint of his eyes.

  I glance down at my toes. At least I haven’t destroyed those nails. I raise my eyes to his. “Yes?”

  He stares at me for a moment before the corner of his mouth curls up on the side. “Is that all you’ve got?” he asks playfully.

  My heart staggers briefly at the thought that he might still love me and still want me. I stand and courageously begin to untie my robe. He jumps up and grabs my hands.

  “That’s not what I meant. I’m tired. I just want to go to bed, okay?”

  I nod sheepishly as he releases my hands. He looks me over briefly before he rubs his chin and turns back toward the bed. I can feel tears prick my eyes as I blurt out, “Do you not love me anymore?”

  He swirls around in frustration. “Do we have to do this now? I said I’m tired.”

  “It’s a simple question, Mike. Answer the question. Do you love me?”

  “Yes… Yes, I love you. Okay?”

  It’s not okay. “Fine, you love me, but are you in love with me?”

  “There’s no difference,” he states matter-of-factly.

  “Yes, there is. I’m your wife and you haven’t touched me, or even tried to touch me, in six months. What’s that all about? I thought all men wanted sex. If you don’t want it from me, is it because you’re getting it somewhere else?”

  He starts to laugh. “With the hours I work, you really think I have time to get anything from anyone?”

  “Well shit, Mike! That’s not a no!” I shout.

  “No, Everly. No, I’m not having an affair if that’s what you’re asking. I’m working my ass off to provide for this family and I’m tired. All the fucking time.”

  My eyes dart to the floor. “I know you are. I know you work hard. Thank you. Thank you for all you do for us.”

  His eyes meet mine for a moment, and I see a hint of surprise in them.

  “I know I don’t say it enough, but I appreciate you,” I add.

  “Thanks,” he responds skeptically. He pulls back the covers and climbs into bed. He reaches over and turns out the light. I’m left standing in darkness. I turn on my heel as I clench my robe to my chest and head toward the door.

  “Where are you going?”

  I stop in my tracks and answer without turning. “To make lunches.”

  “I thought you wanted me to touch you. I’m in bed. I’m waiting for you.”

  I feel confused. Part of me is still hurt and part of me is relieved that he wants me in bed with him. I’m not sure I want it anymore, but I turn and head toward him anyway. I climb into bed next to him and he reaches out his hand to untie my robe. A surge of adrenaline shoots through me at the thought of his hands on me. It’s been so long.

  He pushes the robe away from my skin and I’m immediately tense and self-conscious. I’m not wearing a bra, just my lacy underwear. It fits snuggly, and I’m aware there are rolls of fat in unattractive places. I try not to focus on my worries. After all, we’re married. I trust he can see past my flaws and know that inside, I’m the same girl he fell in love with all those years ago.

  He removes the covers from himself and pulls down his boxers before he sits up to remove my panties. I giggle a little as he shrugs them off of me. I feel his mouth on my breast as he sucks my nipple into his mouth. I attempt to reach for him, but he lifts my hand over my head. Even when he lets it go, I leave it there for a moment, thinking it’s where he wants it to stay. I hear a condom wrapper tear and he’s inside me. It isn’t the foreplay I’d hoped for, but the warmth of his body and his hardness inside me feel so good, I let it go. He slowly starts pushing into me. I reach up to touch his face, letting him know I want him to kiss me. He leans down and kisses my cheek, then my neck, but not my lips. It bothers me, but I say nothing. I focus on the feeling of him inside me and his hands tugging and twisting savagely at my breasts. He picks up the pace and pushes faster and harder until he’s pounding me forcibly. He’s rough, and although it almost hurts, I can feel my need building. I’ve never been one of those girls who comes during sex and he knows it, but having him inside me feels so good. Just to know he wants me… I feel him harden and he stops. He sighs and I can tell he’s done.

  He rolls off me and onto his back. I turn toward him and kiss his chest. He pants as he yawns. “Do you want me to…?” He motions toward my vagina.

  I’m not sure how to respond. I thought it was obvious by the way I grabbed on to him and moaned. “If you want to?” I ask hopefully.

  “I do, but I’m just so tired.” He yawns again. “You understand, right?”

  I don’t know what to say, so I just nod. He kisses my forehead and rolls onto his side, away from me. I lie there for a while, thinking he’ll reconsider, until I hear him begin to snore. I slowly crawl out of bed and plod into the bathroom to pee. I consider touching myself, but I don’t. I stand in front of the mirror and stare at the girl inside. I feel cheap, like trash. I feel worse after being with him that way than I did not being with him at all. I wanted to make love, but I had sex. No, actually, he had sex. I had nothing. I wash my hands and head back downstairs to let out the dog and make lunches. After I put everything away and turn out the light, I start back up to bed. I can hear him snoring and realize I do
n’t even want to be near him. I slowly tread back into the kitchen. I pick up my phone from the counter, set my alarm, grab a blanket from the closet, and curl up into a ball on the couch. I think of pulling out the romance novel I’ve been reading to get my mind off of how hurt I feel, but hearing about a strong woman who overcomes her problems and ends up with the man of her dreams is not what I need right now. I feel hopeless. I’ll never be one of those people. I’m destined to live this life. I love a man who doesn’t love me back. I’m alone. I want to cry, but I can’t. I’m numb. I’m just numb.

  Ten years earlier

  I STARE AT the plain silver band on my left finger and twist it around in a circle as I wait in the doctor’s office. Two weeks ago, Mike suggested we get married. It was a quick wedding at the courthouse. My grandma Kay and Gwen were there as well as Mike’s mom and dad. I wore a simple powder-blue dress and Mike wore a dress shirt, no tie. I think back to his proposal that night in his apartment.

  “We should just do it,” he says.

  I take a large bite of my taco and watch the insides of the hard shell crumble out onto my plate. It’s my second taco and I’m still hungry. This baby makes me crave everything. I never knew I would want to eat so much. “Do what?” I ask as I take another bite.

  “Get married.”

  I cough and choke a little on the beef. I can’t catch my breath. Mike stands and pats my back as he laughs. “You okay?”

  “Married?” I ask as I regain my air and swallow what’s in my mouth.

  “Yeah,” he nods. “I love you, you love me. We’re going to be a family, so why not make it official?”

  My stomach twists and turns. Apparently the shock of his words even makes the baby not want to eat anymore. I place the taco on my plate and shift uncomfortably in my seat. I wonder why I’m not thrilled with the suggestion. For months I’ve wondered if Mike wants to be with me or if he just feels forced because of the pressure his parents are putting on him. “Did your mom and dad put you up to this?” I question, speaking what’s on my mind.