Mending Michael

by J. P. Grider

  "I'm sorry," he mouths, taking me by the back of the arm and gently guiding me back to our seats.

  Lara grabs me, her sobs loud in my ear, and wraps her arms around me. "Oh, baby, I'm so sorry."

  I pull back and look at her. My arms are cupped around her forearms as I turn again towards Carmine.

  "I'll make this right. I promise. We'll appeal," he tells me.

  Then all those words I heard up front come back to me. "My criminal record," I pronounce.

  "We'll appeal, Mick. We're not finished here. We'll file for visitation rights, then..."

  "Wait. I don't even get visitation?"

  "Weren't you paying attention, Mick?" Carmine scolds.

  Lara turns her hands, and takes mine.

  "Because of your assault charge," Carmine exhales, "he doesn't trust you around your niece."

  The magnitude of the judge's ruling finally hits me, and I collapse into Lara's arms and cry.

  I cry like I haven't cried in a very long time.

  I don't know how long I'm in her arms, nor do I remember how they get me from point A to point B, but when my tears eventually dry, I find myself lying down on Lara's couch. My head on her lap.

  44

  HOLLY

  Going to the courthouse yesterday was a mistake.

  What made me think that Mick would need me there?

  He had her.

  I couldn't get the image out of my head. Their embrace. How she naturally, and familiarly, wrapped her arms around him while he cried. It was so obvious, his love for her. She was the reason he kept pulling away every time we'd attempt to get close. Lara. His ex-girlfriend. The one he calls on to watch his niece. She's been in his life the whole freaking time. I am so damn stupid. No wonder he is always so hot and cold with me. He obviously still has feelings for her.

  Fine. He has feelings for his ex-girlfriend. That doesn't mean it hurts any less to hear the judge tell him he can't see Kenna anymore. Is Mick that dangerous that he's a threat to his niece? The aggravated assault charge? How can that have anything to do with Kenna? The judge said it was a charge from 2010. It's 2014. That's four years ago. Kenna is only three. So unless Mick assaulted a child, why would it have any bearing on whether he should keep Kenna or not? And a drowning in 1998? What would that have to do with Mick? He was only eight in 1998.

  I don't like these civil cases. They don't give the defendant a chance to state his case. The lawyer does all the talking. What about Mick? Why wasn't he allowed to defend himself? And what about Kenna? She's only three, but who was telling her story? I don't like this whole system. In fact, I hate it. With a passion. It's just... it's just so unfair.

  "Holly." Rose's voice is distant, but I know she's sitting right next to me. "What's going on? You're in a whole other world."

  "Huh?" I look at Braden and Hurley sitting across from us, then at Rose.

  "What's going on?" Braden asks, his hand wrapped around his paper coffee cup.

  "Sorry. Just lost in my thoughts. What's going on?"

  "We were gonna go to the arcade," Hurley announces.

  "What's going on, Holl? You okay?" Rose lays her hand on my thigh.

  "Yeah, fine. You're going to the arcade?" I ask her.

  She shrugs. "I guess. It's either that or laundry."

  "So you in?" Hurley asks impatiently, already standing and clearing his Saturday morning breakfast from the table.

  "No homework this weekend, Lee?" I like calling him Lee. It aggravates him. He likes the formality and authority his name Hurley gives him. After all, he is going to school to be a lawyer. A fact he never fails to remind us.

  "We have finals next week, but I need a break from studying. Saturday morning's good a time as any," he tells me.

  Braden and Hurley lead the way out of the large triangular-shaped coffee shop and into the small arcade that stands two buildings away.

  Hurley piles his quarters on top of the pinball machine that Braden gets to first. "I just love pinball." Braden's voice is squeaky and childlike when he pulls back the lever to hit his first ball.

  "I know," Hurley says, "I don't know why they are nearly extinct, they're so much fun," he adds, sounding like a child himself.

  "Boys." Rose rolls her eyes.

  We amble toward a backless wooden bench and sit.

  "What happened?" Rose presses. "You're so preoccupied. Is it your new job? You hate it that much?"

  Sighing out loud, I admit, "Well, I do and I don't. The money is awesome. It's only an internship, yet I'm bringing home a bucket load. But I do hate what I'm doing. I don't even get it half the time."

  "But you're gonna stay there?"

  I shrug. "I don't know. That's not what's really bothering me right now though," I concede honestly.

  "Then...what?"

  "Mick didn't get custody of his niece."

  "Oh, Holl, that's terrible. Where she gonna go?"

  "I think she stays with that family she's with now. I don't know. She's in their system now. It...just," I stand and pace in front of Rose. "It sucks, Rose. It just...Michael is a wonderful uncle, I mean...so he has an aggravated assault record, it doesn't mean he's gonna hurt..."

  "Wait. Michael?"

  "Mick."

  "Mick? He has a criminal record?"

  "Evidently. But it happened before Kenna was born, and I'm sure it has no effect on whether he'd be a good guardian or not."

  "Do you know why he has an assault charge?"

  I sit down again and rub my hands over my face. "No. But still. That poor little girl. Rose. She's with complete strangers. It's..."

  "Why is this bothering you so much, Holl. Were you and Mick even that close? Didn't you, like, hate him not too long ago?"

  "I never hated him. And this has nothing to do with him. A little girl has no family," I say vehemently. "She's with people she doesn't know. Doesn't trust. Her mama is sick, her uncle is..."

  "Honey." Both of Rose's hands are on my thigh now. "What is this really about? You hardly know this little girl. What'd you meet her once? What..."

  "It's not that. It does bother me. A lot. It physically hurts."

  "Really?" she asks, incredulous that I can be hurting over a little girl I barely know.

  "Really. And it's not just Kenna. While I was sitting there in back of the courtroom, listening to all those horribly sad custody cases, all I kept thinking was how some of them were just so unfair. Some kids got to stay with parents who were obviously unfit to be parents, but just 'cause they were together, and put on a good show, they got to keep them. Their stories didn't add up, yet...and then… oh my God, there was this one mother who had just lost her job, and she was crying and you just knew she was a good person, but since her husband had all this money he was the one granted custody, and it just..." I have to stop, because I'm crying. I'm crying over these people I don't even know. How is that possible? Unless...unless it's really the whole thing with Mick and his ex, and...I lower my head into my hands.

  Rose's hand slides up and down my back. "Holl, I don't understand why this has you so riled."

  My head still in my hands, I mumble, "I don't know. Maybe 'cause I saw Mick with his ex-girlfriend."

  "And you really like him?"

  I look up at her and quirk my lip. "Yeah. I really do."

  She continues to rub my back. "Oh, honey. I'm sorry."

  "Yeah. Me too."

  "I don't get it. You fell for him that fast? I mean, yeah, you kissed him and all, but do you really like him that much?"

  I think about this for a minute before answering truthfully. "Yes. I like him a lot."

  "And he was with his ex-girlfriend in court?"

  "Yup. She was hugging him and everything."

  "What did he say when he saw you?" Rose speaks softly, squeezing my thigh.

  I inhale a breath of air, expelling the words, "He never saw me. I snuck out before...Oh, Rose. My whole life is shit right now."

  Rose shakes her head, lifting her hands in exaspera
tion. "Your whole life, Holl? What are you talking about?"

  "My life. My stupid freakishly high-paying job that I hate, my former co-worker who I once hated and now am...fucking in love with, and all those little kids who..."

  "Whoa, back up. In love with? Really?"

  "I don't know, Rose, but it doesn't even matter. He's back with his ex now...I guess."

  "Hey." Braden and Hurley are in front of us now.

  "I'm gonna get going," Hurley alerts us. "Gonna go study now, but Donny's tonight?"

  Rose darts her eyes at me, and I shrug.

  "Oh come on, Holl," Braden whines. "Last weekend you went out with your new coworkers," he says bitterly.

  "My new coworker happened to be a girl I used to go to high school with, and since I'd stayed in the city to go shopping with my mother, I made plans with..."

  "You don't have to explain yourself to him, Holly." Rose shoots Braden a scolding look.

  "Thanks, Rose." I look at Braden. "I wasn't dissin' you guys."

  "So, you'll come tonight?" Hurley asks.

  "Yeah," I assent with no explanation. No need to tell him I'm apprehensive about seeing Mick there. "I'll be there."

  Smacking me on the back, Hurley struts out of the arcade. Braden sticks around. "Wanna go get some lunch?" he asks.

  "Lunch? We just had breakfast."

  "Coffee and a brownie is not breakfast, Holl," Braden admonishes. "I need something filling, like a burger."

  Rose and I look at each other and sigh.

  "Wanna do laundry tomorrow or something?" she asks me.

  "I guess."

  "Great. Since we're going to Donny's tonight, wanna go to the diner?"

  "Sure."

  ***

  After lunch, Rose and I are able to fit in a load of laundry each, so I'm able to get my gray and white striped cardigan washed and dried in time to wear tonight. Donny's is air-conditioned and gets chilly. Since I'm only wearing my white eyelet tank with my faded ripped 7 For All Mankind jeans, I'll need my cropped cardigan for inside the bar. Slipping into my red patent leather pointed-toe Jimmy Choo pumps that my mom gave me for Christmas this past year, I have second thoughts about going to Donny's. What if Mick's there? He switched to days, yes, but what if? What do I say to him? It occurred to me earlier, that he doesn't know I was there in court yesterday. He doesn't know I know that he lost custody of Kenna. And I never texted him to ask how it went. So as far as Mick is concerned, I didn't care enough to ask. But I did care enough. I cared enough to show up. I cared enough to let it break my heart that he lost his niece. I cared enough to walk away when I saw him with his ex-girlfriend. I cared enough to let it disappoint me to see him with her.

  But he doesn't know any of this.

  So I don't know what to say when I do see him.

  Therefore, I'm thinking twice about going to Donny's tonight.

  "What's the matter, Holl?" Rose asks when she walks into our room after using the communal bathroom.

  "I think I'm gonna pass on tonight," I tell her.

  45

  MICK

  I lost Kenna, and it's all my fault.

  Just like it was my fault Charity ended up pregnant with Kenna in the first place.

  Just like it was my fault my parents depended on drugs and alcohol to function day to day.

  Just like it was my fault Frankie drowned in our pool sixteen years ago.

  This whole fucking joke of a life we had is all my fault.

  No matter what I do to make things right, it all goes to shit in the end.

  They'd all have been better off if I'd just never existed.

  Maybe that's how I can make things right.

  For Frankie.

  For my parents.

  For Charity.

  For Kenna.

  46

  HOLLY

  Mick's bike is nowhere in sight.

  Neither is his sister's car.

  So it's safe to say, Mick is not at Donny's tonight, nor is he home in his apartment.

  My nerves are more settled now, and I'm glad that Rose talked me into going out tonight. She's right, I would have been more of a wreck sitting alone in our small dorm if I'd stayed home. Even though I would have had my guitar—I'd brought it back with me from New York—playing it all night long would have just left me sad. Especially since in between laundry loads, all I'd been playing were love ballads.

  We take our normal Saturday night table to the far right of the establishment, a space in an alcove that fits three tables usually occupied by regulars. Griffin and Cali aren't there yet, but Braden, Hurley, and Hurley's sometimes girlfriend, Meredith, are already starting on some appetizers.

  When I see Cali's friend Tabitha walking towards us, at first I think she's going to sit with us, then it registers that she's wearing the black Donny's apron and official red polo that his waitresses wear. "Tabitha. You're working here now?" I ask pointlessly.

  "Yeah. Got your job," she explains with a silent, lighthearted chuckle. "What can I get you two?"

  "Oh," I look to Rose, then back to Tabitha, "I'll have a Sangria," I say, taking my seat, then looking at the menu, since I am suddenly starving. At the diner, I barely touched my chicken Caesar salad because I'd been so worked up about tonight. But since it's Donny behind the bar, I have no reason to feel apprehensive.

  Though a tiny voice is prodding me, alerting me not to get too comfortable. I turn a deaf ear to the voice, reminding myself that if Mick comes in, I can just ask him how things went yesterday. He knows I have another job. Let him think I was just too busy to text him yesterday, and I waited until I'd see him in person to ask him how things went. Yeah. That's what I'll tell him.

  Tabitha sets our drinks on the table just as Griffin and Cali get there. Griffin greets me with a kiss on the cheek, while behind me, Cali and Tabitha chatter on about something.

  "So how's the job, Holl?" Griffin asks. "You finished a full week, ready to quit?"

  "Pretty much," I joke.

  He rubs the top of my head. "Watch the hair, Griff," I tease.

  "Hey, guys."

  "Hey, Cal," we all said in unison.

  When Tabitha takes our order, I feel a small pang of empathy for her, not that I feel empathy often, but because I've been in her shoes, taking orders from friends, I feel her slight humiliation. Unless Tabitha is different from me, and doesn't feel humiliation over trivial things like serving friends. Once we place our orders, and everyone is chattering on about nothing in particular, I decide to take a seat at the bar.

  "Hey, Holl, whatchya drinking tonight?" Donny sets a coaster in front of me.

  "Well I was drinking a Sangria, but I think I'll have a glass of Merlot right now."

  "Boring."

  "Yeah, well, that's the mood I'm in."

  "'Cause you quit your job here. You weren't bored when you were working here," he concludes, placing a glass of red on my coaster.

  "That's cause I had you to look at, Don."

  "Enough with the wisecracks. We know who you were looking at."

  I sigh. "How is he?"

  "Heartbroken."

  "I bet," I say quietly. "Do you...have you seen him?"

  Donny shakes his head, his eyes cast down. "No, Holl. I haven't even talked to him." His eyes look back at mine. "I spoke with... Lara," he says her name with apprehension, as if he's embarrassed to tell me. "She said he's not doing well at all."

  "Hmmm. Is that, uh, is that where he's staying? With...her?" I try to keep the edge out of my voice, but it's hard when my heart hurts just thinking about it.

  Donny nods. "I think so. Don't know for sure."

  We're both silent for a bit. I drink my wine; he serves his patrons.

  "So how's your internship going, Holly?" Donny's voice is warm, his question, sincere.

  "It's going. I don't know what the hell I'm doing, but I'm getting paid a good chunk of change."

  "A good chunk of change?"

  I laugh to myself. "My dad's phrase. I do
get paid well though."

  "So you gonna work on Wall Street when you graduate?"

  "I doubt it. I don't understand half of what they have me doing. I'll probably get let go before the internship is over." This I say with regret, because if my father's company lets me go, then I'll never hear the end of it from my dad. He'll be the laughingstock and all that.

  "You want to get let go?" Donny asks innocently.

  "Not really," I admit. "My dad would flip."

  "Can you get tutors for a job?" Donny's joking, I know, but it doesn't seem like such a bad idea.

  "I better get back to the guys." I shrug my head in the direction of my table. "Catch you later, Don."

  "Later, Holl."

  By the time my burger comes, I'm not hungry again. My stomach twists from hearing about Mick. He's heartbroken. And he's with his ex. Which of these bothers me more? Truthfully, it's hard to tell. It breaks my heart that he lost Kenna. It tears me to pieces to know he's so sad. It should make me happy that he is with someone who loves him at a time like this. But it doesn't make me happy. It makes me sad.

  I guess my change in demeanor gets noticed, because suddenly all eyes are on me, as well as all the questions. Fortunately, I dodge them by telling them it's my time of the month. Rose, Cali, and Meredith chuckle, knowing I'm kidding, but I get the expected response from Griffin, Braden, and Hurley scrunched up faces and throaty groans.

  Switching from wine to hard liquor helps, and by the time we close down the bar, I'm just as giddy as the rest of my table. We decide to go to the local diner and by now, I'm famished. Drunk off my ass, but famished.

  Sunday morning, I wake up with two skewers shoved through my eyes and my head between a closing vise. The pain is so intolerable that I can't even manage to open my eyes. When I try to, it's like pulling those skewers out from my impaled eyes. I want to scream, but it takes too much effort. So I lie there instead, praying for sleep to take over again.