Not Broken-The Happily Ever After

by Meka James

  My eyes closed. A lump formed in my throat. The memory of the first time Seth called me Ginger quickly escaped its cage, running full speed into the forefront of my mind. The feeling of terror from that night was just as intense today. I began twirling Malcolm’s ring around on my finger.

  “He…um…he…” My hands clenched and unclenched as I tried to get the words out. I popped up from my chair, shaking my hands as I walked in circles. My heart rate increased. I took long, slow breaths, swallowing repeatedly, fighting against the nauseous feeling. I’d let him use me that night. I’d asked for it, trading my body in hopes it would appease his anger. My nails dug into my palms, I squeezed my eyes shut, and pressed my lips together, needing to shove that memory back where it belonged.

  “Calida.”

  The sound of my name startled me. Dr. Carr stood beside me, with a tissue in hand, and concern showing on her face.

  “You’re shaking. Sit, have some water. I’m going to call this done for today, but I want you to stay and take the time you need.”

  Dr. Carr led me back over to my chair. After opening a bottle of water for me, she gathered up her notebooks and went to her desk. I pressed my hands together between my legs, willing the trembling to stop. In the background, Dr. Carr worked on her computer. I focused on the faint clicking sound of keys being pressed. The trembling subsided. Reaching over, I grabbed the bottle off the table and took a long drink.

  I rolled the bottle between my hands, watching the gentle sway of the water created from the motion. I took another drink, draining the remaining contents. Heart rate steady, but the nauseous feeling remained. Picking up my purse, I walked over and dropped the bottle into the blue recycling can next to Dr. Carr’s desk. She stopped typing and looked up at me.

  Again, I twirled the ring around my finger. “He…he used the name when he was angry at me. It would signal a punishment was coming.”

  Dr. Carr closed the lid of her laptop as she stood. “Are you okay to continue talking about this now?”

  I shook my head. “You asked me the question. I just wanted to answer it.” I gave her a small wave before exiting.

  As I pulled out of the parking deck, I knew home was the last place I wanted to go. I wasn’t sure if Dorian was there or not. Regardless, I didn’t want to be in that house with those painful memories fresh in my mind. Driving down Peachtree, BrickTop’s came into view. My hasty decision to head there drew angry honking from the car I cut off to get over. I pulled up to the valet station, and one of the attendants quickly made his way over to open my door. Once inside, the hostess informed me there’d be a fifteen-minute wait for a table, but that wasn’t necessary. I only needed the bar.

  There was an empty stool near the wall, a perfect place for me to be separated from the rest of the corporate lunch crowd filling the place. The bartender smiled in my direction, letting me know she saw me. I picked up the menu, and looked over my choices while she tended to the other patrons.

  “What’ll it be?”

  “Um…I’ll try your Manhattan, please.”

  “Need to see some ID.”

  Once she was satisfied I was of legal age, she stepped away to make my drink, returning a few minutes later. The initial bitter burn of the bourbon made me cough; she wasn’t sparing on the alcohol, that was for sure. My thoughts went back to my session as I sipped my drink.

  Was Dr. Carr going to suggest I go back on my meds? I didn’t want that, but the episodes were becoming more frequent. I massaged my temples, feeling a headache coming on. I was drained. Keeping up appearances was becoming harder to do, and that fact scared me. I’d been doing well, had found a rhythm to my life. A routine that had kept me focused and made each day possible, leaving nights my only real enemy. The balance I’d worked so hard to obtain had begun to shift and I needed to figure out how to get it back before everyone saw through my façade.

  Catching the bartender’s attention, I signaled I wanted a refill. I sat, sipping on my drink thinking about everything and nothing. The lunch crowd came and went, and yet still I sat.

  “I think you’re ringing.” I looked up to see the bartender pointing toward my purse, the vibrating noise finally registering with me.

  “’ello.”

  “So, you aren’t dead. That’s good to know.”

  I winced hearing Dorian’s bitchy voice on the other end. “What’da want?”

  “Where the hell are you? Mom and Dad have all but called out the National Guard because you haven’t checked in.”

  I pulled my phone away from my ear. The top bar showed I had about six missed calls, a couple of texts and voicemails, but more importantly I saw the time. I’d been sitting here for nearly three hours. Shit. I didn’t call to check in with them like normal when they had Shawn.

  “I’ll call ‘em.” My attempt to stand forced me to reach for the bar top to steady myself. The phone fell with a loud thud onto the bar surface. A few of the servers looked in my direction. Dorian’s voice came through the speakers, calling out my name.

  “Sorry, drop it.”

  “Are you drunk? At two in the afternoon? What the hell, Calida?”

  “No,” I returned a little too loudly. It wasn’t missed by me that the bartender had signaled for someone to come over.

  “Bullshit. I can hear it in your voice. Where the hell are you?”

  “None your business. I’ll see you home.”

  “Like hell. You can barely talk. No way can you drive. You’ll kill someone, if not yourself.”

  I let out a groan, knowing she was right. I didn’t think I’d had that many to drink, but honestly, I’d lost count. Giving in, I told her where I was then hung up. After paying my tab I stumbled my way to the bathroom to relieve my overly full bladder.

  Sitting at the bar, drinking a glass of water, I could almost feel Dorian’s disapproving presence before I saw her.

  “Let’s go.”

  I thanked the bartender before grabbing my purse and sliding off the stool, wobbling in the process, forcing Dorian to catch me before I hit the floor.

  “A hug, Dorian? You do care!” My arms wrapped around her tighter, nearly taking us both to the floor.

  “Stop making a scene,” she grumbled, removing my arms from around her. “Did you at least eat something?”

  I shook my head.

  “Great. You better not puke in my car or you’re buying me a new one.”

  “Puked. Check. So, all good.” I gave her a big grin, and she rolled her eyes in response.

  The manager came up and explained to Dorian that my car could stay here until she or I could come back to get it. Then he helped get me out to her car. I rested my head against the window, closed my eyes, and enjoyed the cool AC blowing against my face.

  “Just so you know, I told Mom and Dad that you are home sleeping.”

  I opened one eye as I looked over at her. “Why?”

  “Because I thought that was better than saying their daughter was a lush, who got wasted in the middle of the day.”

  “You shouldn’t frown. Makes your wrinkles stand out.”

  “Excuse me?”

  I sat up, covering my mouth quickly as a wave of nausea hit. Dorian made quick work of pulling over, but the feeling passed. Still, she waited in the strip-mall parking lot for a few minutes to be sure.

  “Why’d you lie?” I asked through a yawn.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “About where I was, why’d you lie?” Sleep threatened to overtake me at any moment.

  “I already told you.”

  “But why? It ain’t of sisterly love. We both know you don’t have that.”

  “Still playing the victim. I’m not as heartless as you like to pretend.”

  I reclined the seat, and turned my back to her as I repositioned myself. “Who knew you were a comedian?”

  “I should have left your ass there.”

  “I sure you’ll find new a
nd creative ways to hold this over my head,” I retorted mid-yawn. Dorian could lecture me later, for now, sleep.

  Chapter 19

  Malcolm

  The day was finally here. The idea of owning a home made me feel more like an actual adult. Reaching over, I took hold of Ginger’s hand, and brought it to my lips. Having her here for this made the day much more meaningful. The closing attorney came back with all the signed documents, and handed me a bulging file folder, and congratulated me on my new purchase. An hour ago, I was a renter, now I was a home owner.

  The sellers stood and shook our hands before handing me a Ziploc bag that contained the keys and garage door openers. I thanked them, and handed the items to Ginger. Once outside, Brenda dashed over to her car. She returned shortly with a gift bag and wearing a large smile.

  “Congrats again, you two. I hope you enjoy the house.” She handed me the bag before giving Ginger and I hugs.

  As she walked off, I turned and encompassed Ginger in an excited embrace. Lifting her off the ground, she let out a surprised squeal. “Baby, can you believe it? We have a house.”

  She’d been fairly quiet and reserved most of the morning, but the smile that broke out on her face let me know my enthusiasm was rubbing off on her.

  “Yes, you do, now put me down.”

  Complying with her request, I fished my keys out of my pocket to unlock the door, and opened it for her. After she was settled, I sat the gift bag at her feet before reaching up to cradle her face. Her pink, plump lips called out to me. I answered. Ginger tasted of the chocolate she’d been snacking on during the closing. Her lips parted, and I took that as an invitation to deepen the kiss. She made a soft whimpering noise, her hand gripped my shoulder, and she gave a gentle push. I took the hint. Her hand went to her lips as she turned her head away from me. I stepped back and shut her door, letting my hand linger on the frame before heading around to get in.

  The car ride was quiet. When we got to the house, she handed me the keys, smiling as she did.

  “Ready for your big moment? I was so happy when I opened the door for the first time on my house.”

  I kissed the back of her hand as I took the keys from her. “Yes. Crazy how priorities and wants can change so much in such a short time. Having you here makes this moment so much sweeter.”

  “There’s nowhere else I want to be.” She reached up to caress my face then quickly turned to get out of the car.

  I watched her walk up the stairs of the porch, wondering if her comment was a hundred percent truthful. I wanted it to be, but things remained a guessing game most days with her. Opening the middle console, I reached in to grab the small gift bag then hopped out of the car to join her.

  “Yes, it’s for you,” I stated when she looked down at the bag.

  Before she could respond, I scooped her up into my arms.

  “Oh my god, Malcolm, what are you doing?”

  “Stop squirming or you’ll make me drop you.”

  “I’ll kick your ass if you do!”

  I fumbled with the lock, but eventually got the door open. I smiled broadly when I safely put her down inside the house. My efforts were met with a playful punch to my arm.

  “You’re a jerk sometimes.”

  “What? Isn’t carrying the woman over the threshold a customary thing?”

  She frowned, shaking her head. “Um no.”

  I leaned forward, giving her a quick kiss on the tip of her nose. “I think you’re wrong. I’m sure it’s a thing.”

  Taking her hand, I walked her further into the house. On the island in the kitchen sat a large bouquet of roses, along with a bucket of ice chilling a bottle of champagne. Ginger stopped in her tracks when she saw it.

  “I had Brenda ask the old owners if I could have this here for you. Happy birthday, Ginger.” I held the small gift bag out toward her, but she didn’t take it. Her eyes remained on the vase, and she looked almost sick at the sight of them. The color had drained from her face and she’d taken a step back from the island.

  “You okay?”

  She nodded, looking up at me. “Yeah, it’s just a surprise is all.”

  “You don’t look like it’s a good surprise.”

  “No, it is. What woman doesn’t love getting roses?” She gave me a smile, but it seemed forced. “Thank you.” She took the bag, walked over to the fireplace, and took a seat on the hearth.

  I opened the champagne, watching as she opened her gift. Picking up the now filled glasses, I walked over to where she sat.

  “You like it? I admit I suck at gifts, but Macy tells me I can never go wrong with jewelry. According to her, the more bling the better, but you aren’t the flashy type.”

  “It’s perfect, thank you. And it matches my ring. Will you put it on?” She stood, holding the box out to me.

  I sat the glasses on the mantle before taking it from her. Turning her back to me, she waited for me to fasten the delicate platinum chain around her neck. The only bling came from the diamond encrusted infinity symbol that sat in the center. I let my thumbs stroke the soft skin on the back of her neck after I’d done the clasp. I stepped closer, letting my hands move over her shoulders, and down her arms until I linked my fingers with hers, closing our arms around her.

  Having her in my arms felt good, felt right. I savored these moments, the ones where she relaxed and stopped overthinking, stopped fighting against the idea of an us and simply lived in the moment.

  I pressed my lips to the top of her head. “I love you, Ginger.”

  She started to squirm, breaking free of our embrace. She reached past me, grabbing the glasses off the mantle.

  “Congrats again.” She clinked our glasses together before downing the contents of hers in one go.

  I held my glass out toward her, “Do you want mine, too?”

  She looked down at her empty glass before shaking her head. “I was just thirsty.”

  “What do you think I’m going to do to you?”

  Her face scrunched into a frown. “What? Nothing? Why would you ask that?”

  “Because you just downed that glass like you needed the liquid courage for something. And it’s not the first time, so what is it about me that has you so afraid?”

  “Why do you do this?”

  “Do what?”

  “Look for things that aren’t there? I’m not afraid of you, Mal. And I don’t need liquid courage for anything, so I don’t know what you are implying with that statement. I was thirsty, that’s it.”

  She walked over to the island to set her glass down. Her head hung down, and I could tell from the rise and fall of her shoulders she was taking slow breaths. I gulped down my champagne; I needed it to calm my temper, to keep things from turning into another argument. They came on fast and out of nowhere most times. Anytime I broached a topic she didn’t like, she went on the defensive.

  Walking up behind her, I sat my glass down beside hers. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t implying anything. It just seems like sometimes the longer you’re alone with me, the more nervous you tend to get.”

  “I’m trying.”

  I turned her to face me. “Trying to what?”

  She focused on my chest. “To be what you want.”

  “And what is it that you think I want?”

  She shrugged. Placing my fingers on her chin, I slowly lifted her face. “Why don’t you try asking me. Maybe that’ll make things easier on you.” I smiled, and she did the same in return.

  “What do you want, Mal?”

  “I want to erase the sadness that always seems to be in your eyes. I want you to not flinch when I hug you. I want you to feel like you can count on me for any and everything. I want you to look at me and believe that I love you and that I’d never hurt you. But beyond all that, I simply want you. You don’t have to be anything other than who you are.”

  She wrapped her arms around my waist, and rested her head on my chest. “I don’t care what Macy says
about you, you’re an okay guy.”

  I laughed, closing my arms around her. Having her initiate contact with me made me feel like I’d won the lotto.

  “Just okay? I think I’m pretty damned spectacular.”

  “I’m sure you do.”

  I felt dampness on my shirt, so I tightened my hold on her, and stroked her back softly. “What do you want, Ginger?”

  “I…” she stopped, sniffling as she pulled away. She wiped the wet spot on my shirt. “Sorry.”

  “No biggie.”

  She looked around the empty room before bringing her eyes back to me. They were red from her crying, as was the tip of her nose. Everything I’d just told her I wanted was true. But there was no magic fix to take away her sadness, no matter how much I wished differently.

  Her tears were my kryptonite.

  “You’re going to need more furniture than what you have at your condo.”

  Two steps forward, but about a hundred steps backwards She kept fighting against any and everything that she thought was a kink in her emotional armor. I wanted to push her to answer the question, but I already knew the outcome of what would happen. Today was supposed to be a happy day.

  “Good thing I’m dating an interior designer then. She can help me pick out all new stuff. Saves me the trouble of making it look like some bachelor pad only for you to change it when you move in. Eventually...eventually move in,” I added, seeing the look of protest on her face. “But we’ll worry about that tomorrow. Today we have to just go get a grill and some lawn chairs, since the first official celebration in this place will be in honor of your birthday.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Who me? Nothing...much. Just having a small family gathering.” The frown on her face got bigger. “Don’t blame me entirely, you know Macy. No way she was letting you not celebrate your birthday again.”

  She laughed. “Your sister is very bossy.”

  “You picked her as your friend. I didn’t get a choice in having her be my sister.”

  “So, this is my fault then?”

  “Yeah, pretty much.”