Tomorrow's June

by Claudia Caget

  "Noah." I stood there in the painful obvious light of reality. "You are back together with Serena, aren't you?"

  Noah didn't answer so I took that as a yes. I didn't know what else to say, even though I wanted to scream. When did he have the time? I lived there for god's sake. What a warped thing to think.

  "How?" I didn't really want to know but I had to know, you know?

  "How long?"

  Noah said nothing.

  "Noah, answer me. How long have you been back together with her? Does she know about us?"

  "About a month, and yes, she knows about us."

  "And she doesn’t care that you fuck me?" I screamed it, not believing my ears.

  "I think she liked being the other woman."

  Oh, this was just too much. To recap, I started out as the other woman, then I was the girlfriend, and now I am the one who was being cheated on. I certainly got what I deserved.

  I turned around and walked out of Noah's room. He didn't try to stop me. I kept walking until I was in my car and I was driving away. I couldn't stay there. My life had just come full circle.

  I drove to my parent's house. I had to find a new place to live, immediately. I felt like a complete and utter loser. I was a doormat and, at 26, I was moving back home with my. Unfortunately, my parents, especially my mom, can smell weakness, so I had to approach her with the ‘it was my idea to move out’ plan when I talked to her about moving home. I threw in a couple of embellished details about the drugs that went through the place. I was a pretty good actress when I wanted to be, so it wouldn't be a problem to convince them to save me from the "evil."

  They took it better than I had hoped. Probably because my mother had no one to talk to as my father long ago stopped talking and only grunted now. I ended up getting my old room back and had a generous curfew. Sigh.

  Chapter 14

  I stood in the middle of my old room. Nothing really had changed except my mother's clothes were in the closet. When did I leave this place? I couldn't remember. Four years ago? That long? What the fuck was I doing back here? I couldn't get too upset at the moment because I was grateful that my parents were letting me move back in. There was plenty of time for tearful introspection later when I was settled.

  The more immediate problem was getting my stuff moved from Noah's. I could probably wait on the furniture, even the bed, but I really needed my clothes. My mom came up behind me, silent as a ninja.

  “This would never have happened if you were comfortable being alone.”

  I jumped nearly out of my skin.

  “What?”

  I turned around to face her.

  “You never could be alone. You always had to have a friend. And you always had to do the same things every day. You even had to eat the same things every day.”

  I shook my head and said nothing, not having the energy to argue with her.

  "How are you going to move your furniture?"

  "Uh, I don't know. I might just wait."

  "No you won't!" She practically screamed at me. Oh, yeah, now I remember why I left.

  "Well I can't carry it by myself on my back!" I was instantly peevish. My mother certainly had a talent for over-reacting and I was just was as bad.

  She calmed down. "We'll see if Brad will help you." Brad was my sister's boyfriend.

  "OK. Until then, I have to go get some clothes."

  "Do you think that your things will be okay there?" My mom sounded worried. "What if they sell them for drugs?"

  It was my fault for making the drug thing such a big deal. I tried to smooth things over by saying, "It will be fine. Maybe Brad can help me today or tomorrow."

  "I'll call him." My mom certainly liked taking charge.

  "Okay."

  I followed her downstairs and stood silently behind her while she talked to Brad.

  Did I really need to have someone around me all of the time? Was she right? It certainly explained a lot.

  This really sucked. I tried to tell myself that this was a temporary situation. I had some money saved. All I needed was a little time to decide what I was going to do. She got off the phone and said that Brad would help me tomorrow morning. That was fine, but I still had to go over and get my clothes. I had about three hours before I was due at the Garden. That should be enough time to go there, get humiliated, come home, and shower before I had to go to work.

  I took a deep breath and drove over to Noah's. Serena’s red Trans Am was in the driveway. He hadn’t wasted any time getting her over there to carry on their great love affair.

  Whenever I had to face difficult situations, I tried to shut my mind off and just work on autopilot. At that moment, I had to get in there and get my stuff without totally losing all my dignity. God dammit. Noah was an asshole, but I was not blameless. What the hell had I been thinking? Thinking he would be my boyfriend. Guys like that don’t date women like me.

  I walked in through the unlocked door. No one was around. I could hear the band warming up downstairs. This would be easy, I told myself as I walked up the steps to my room. There was no one upstairs either.

  I stood looking around the room. I really hadn't spent a lot of time in there so standing there wasn't as painful as I thought it would be. I had no time for reminiscing, really to find out why I kept getting myself into these situations. There would plenty of time for self-analysis later.

  I quickly packed my clothes along with my makeup into the two suitcases I had brought. They were stuffed. It looked like I might have to make two trips, which sucked. I struggled the biggest one into submission and half drug it, half pushed it down the stairs. I really had to clean out my closets, I thought perversely. Why in the hell did I have so many clothes? I practically wore the same thing everyday. When I went back upstairs for the second suitcase, I ran right into Serena, who was standing at the top of the steps. She had a look on her face like she had just won something.

  "Hi Mia." The smirk made her look ugly.

  "Hi. I am just getting my clothes. I will be back tomorrow morning to get my furniture." Calm. Just be calm.

  "Good. I will tell Noah."

  I walked past her and into my room. I wanted to punch her porcelain-skinned face. What a bitch! ‘Good. I'll tell Noah,’ I mocked her to myself. I had to get out of there before the whole gang came to watch me.

  When I went back into the hall with my bag, she was nowhere to be found. They made a perfect couple, I thought. She's a bitch and he's an asshole. It was a nice feeling to get out of there.

  That night at work I said nothing to Kurt. He didn't have to know what happened. It was totally humiliating! For his part, Kurt was lost in his own thoughts. I didn't ask him what was the matter and he didn't ask me.

  My night was spent staring off into the distance. I am not sure what I thought about the situation. Of course I was upset, but did I really love Noah? What the fuck was that relationship anyway? When I confronted him he had no explanation for me. It was obvious to me now that throughout our whole "relationship" that he was still in love with Serena. My sleeping with him didn't change anything. I couldn’t make him love me by sleeping with him. Would I ever learn that lesson?

  Thankfully the night went quickly and I left Kurt with a quick goodbye. I had one more hurdle to overcome, and then I could be free with my emotions. I just had to make it through tomorrow morning.

  I slept on my parent’s couch because I had no bed. It was no big deal. I woke up hangover free except I felt a little nauseous. It was probably going to bed sober and drug-free that did it. Your body gets used to something and then rebels when it doesn't have it anymore. Ah, the nature of addiction.

  Brad came over with his truck and we drove over to Noah's. I still had my key. Of course the house wasn't locked. It never was. There were the usual beer bottles and drug paraphernalia lying around. We went upstairs to my room. All was quiet. Noah's door was shut. They knew I was coming, fuck them if I woke them up. While Brad took the bed apart, I removed the drawers from m
y dresser and took them down to the truck. This took a couple of trips and by the time I was finished, the bed was apart and the mattress and box spring were standing on their sides. We took each one down separately, and I took the frame down afterwards. We moved both the dresser and the chest of drawers down the stairs, which weren't that hard to move.

  All I had left were a couple of small bookcases and several boxes of books. I had never unpacked the books and put them on the shelves. I probably knew something like this would happen sometime. Books in boxes are the worst to move. In hell, there is a separate torture for the damned to move boxes of books from one end of a room to the other for eternity. It is a befitting punishment for the morally bankrupt albeit well read.

  We were finished. I looked into the room before we left to make sure I had everything. It would be the last time I looked at it. I put the key on the kitchen counter and then we left. That was it.

  Brad and I unpacked my furniture and boxes at my house and he then left. The whole ordeal took about three-and-a-half hours. I kept telling myself that not having a lot of furniture was a blessing, although I did need to get rid of my excess clothes and some books. People go through life accumulating possessions and I was no exception.

  I was glad the morning was over. I didn't run into anyone and saved the rest of my pride. What had happened to me? I went from having friends and a life to having no one and living back at home.

  My bedroom now looked a lot like it did before I moved away. I lay on my bed there thinking about that. I lay there thinking about how quickly things turn. I lay there thinking how sick I felt and how I must be coming down with the flu. I had to work that night and I didn't want to be sick.

  I didn't feel any better when I got to work. I just leaned up against the counter all night. Kurt was as distracted as ever. I didn't have the energy to ask him what was the matter. I was exhausted. I could barely speak to customers. At the end of the night, when I said goodbye, he said he had something to tell me.

  "What?" I was so tired I wanted to lie down on the floor.

  "Hannah is pregnant."

  "What? What are you going to do?" How awful.

  Kurt shrugged his shoulders. "Probably get married."

  "Oh." I didn't know what to think. Poor Hannah. Stuck with that loser with a baby on the way.

  "We can still go out for drinks, you know."

  I scarcely could believe my ears. Poor Hannah indeed!

  "Yea, we'll see. Congratulations." I didn't mean it and I didn’t sound like it, either.

  I left and went home. It was weird to be home but comforting at the same time. It was nice to know that people were home, there was food in the refrigerator, and that the lights weren't going to go off because someone didn't pay the bill. I wasn't the most responsible person. It was often a hassle to try and keep it together when I lived on my own. For now I didn't have to worry about it.

  I went and lay down on my bed and turned on the radio and got lost in my thoughts. My first one was that I wanted a beer. Bad. I was nearly an alcoholic, I knew that. I still didn't feel well, so denying myself wasn't that big of a deal.

  I couldn't believe that Hannah was pregnant! How irresponsible! She probably wanted to trap him like Elease had wanted to trap Ian, I thought, my past loyalty to Kurt seeping through. I wondered how far along she was. That led me to think about my own period. When was my last one? The thought drove me out of bed to find a calendar.

  I usually don't count days because I am pretty regular. According to the calendar, I didn't have my period this month. I was stressing about everything that was going on, and besides, I couldn't possible be pregnant. I was pretty careful with Noah, wasn't I?

  Right, since when? My last pregnancy scare? The last several months were lost in a drug-induced haze. I wracked my brain trying to think of an encounter when I didn't use protection. I couldn't think of any particular instance. We had sex so rarely, you would think I would remember it. I could not.

  I panicked. I could not be pregnant, but it would explain why I didn't feel well. It could be the flu. Had my appetite changed lately? I didn't think so.

  What was I going to do? I had smoked so much pot, drank so much alcohol, and dropped so much acid the baby could not possibly be healthy. And how could I support a child while working at the Garden? I was quite sure Noah didn't want to raise a child with me and I was ill equipped to do it on my own. I wanted to throw up. My limbs felt weightless and my head spun as panic washed over me. I paced and wrung my hands to actively calm myself down. I kept telling myself that I didn't know for sure if I was pregnant, so keeping calm was the best course of action.

  I finally climbed under the covers with my clothes on, eyes open wide, and tried to use reason to deny myself what I already knew.

  Denial ain't a river in Egypt. However, it was pretty helpful when you were trying to avoid reality. I decided to wait another week before I went down to get a pregnancy test, working my denial bone to its limit. My reasoning was that all the stress I had been under was causing me to be late. I couldn't remember having unprotected sex with Noah, so that was good. Maybe it was stress.

  After an excruciating week and no period, I had to tell myself what I knew: I was pregnant. To make sure, I went down to the Center for Choice. As I walked in the door I wondered if the place had a discount program for frequent customers like myself. Probably not.

  I went into the small, private bathroom, peed in a cup, and handed it to the nurse and sat down and looked at their magazines. Looking was the operative term because reading was impossible. Who could concentrate at a time like this?

  I was alone in the waiting room. The only loose woman in town, it seemed. I often think self-pitying and self-hating thoughts when I am stressed. If I would have only thought about the consequences of my actions, blah, blah, blah.

  The patient advocate came to me and we went to a counseling table. In my heart already knew what I was going to say when she told me the news, it was a matter of enduring the mandatory 24-hour waiting period. I made the appointment for the day after tomorrow, and then went home to not think for two days.

  The desire not to think is a self-defense mechanism I am equipped with to make sure I don't lose my mind when something stressful comes up. Thinking back on my first abortion when I was a teenager, I remember thinking how unlucky I was that pregnancy happened to me. Like luck had anything to do with it. Ten years later, it was my absolute carelessness that had gotten me into trouble. If I didn't take care of myself, who was going to? Not the losers I liked to go out with, that was for sure. I stopped myself from thinking about the situation because I didn't want to become a sobbing mess.

  The procedure was as painful and horrifying as I remembered it. In contrast, the staff at the clinic is the kindest group of people around. I don't know if I could do what they do, but I was eternally grateful that they were there. I had to talk them into letting me go home by myself, as no one came with me. Who would have? Noah? Hey Noah, I know that you and Serena are together, but could you come with me to the clinic so I can abort your child? Right. Kurt? Hey Kurt, please take time out of your busy schedule of nursery wall painting to come with me to abort someone else's baby?

  When I got home, I went to bed all crampy, and stared up at the ceiling. I felt relief and sorrow. Self pity and self anger. I was glad that it was over and upset that I had to do it in the first place. I wondered how I was going to be scarred from it. I wondered how I was going to be paid back for it, karma-wise. I wondered what exactly I did believe about the beginnings of life. In answer to my questions, I lay there and cried.

  Chapter 15

  As a creature of habit, it was very important for me to establish a routine and stick with it. I quickly fell into such a schedule living at my parent's. The cramps slowly went away, I struggled to keep my emotions on an even plane, and slipped into the late fall with my sanity more or less intact, but depressed as hell.

  At the Garden, Kurt and I were friendly, but
he was preoccupied with Hannah, whose petite figure was slowly morphing into freak of nature status. It looked like she swallowed a beach ball. It could have been me. The thought gave me pause.

  Andy, even, found a girlfriend, and stopped writing me his brand of really bad poetry. But we had had so much! I was relieved but sad. It seemed I had no one.

  No one. My memories of the past two years were cluttered by the thought of me with other people. Ian. Kurt. Noah. Even idiot Andy. I hadn't been alone in such a long time that I wasn't quite sure how to react. I was a master of self-pity. I wanted to mope around and play victim. It was what I was good at.

  So I plodded along through life. Where there was once a dating life, there was time at home with the folks.

  I particularly liked to torture myself with the 'might have beens'. You know, what might have been had I met someone who really cared about me. Like Noah, even though I wasn't sure what I felt about him. Time had a way of softening all of the sharp edges in a relationship. What was it that I didn't like about him? By Christmas I wouldn’t even be able to remember. Even Ian's squirreliness gave way to hazy bits of longing.

  I often wondered about Ian and Amy. Did they ever end up dating? He was supposed to move to Chicago. I wondered if he did.

  The thing about Toledo is you can stand still and eventually everyone in town will pass you by. I didn't have a long wait.

  It was a slow Friday night in October when Amy and Ian walked in. I tried to be cool about it, but was immediately embarrassed about waiting on them. I needed to get another job, preferably not in the service sector.

  Amy looked startled to see me.

  "Hi Mia." Ian smiled.

  I decided to take the high road. "Hi guys. How are you?"

  "Fine." Amy leaned into Ian.

  I directed my attention to Ian. "What happened to Chicago?"

  "Oh, I didn't want to leave Amy," Ian said, putting his arm around her shoulder.

  What a bunch of bullshit! I played along.