by Marcy Blesy
“You, too, Jess. I suppose we’ll see you later tonight. My mom’s the event planner for this evening.”
“Yes, I heard. Well, look for me. I’ll be the one dressed like a penguin.” Ty laughs as she retreats to the kitchen area with a waddle that accentuates her perfectly formed butt. It is then that I let out a long sigh. Being good has never been so hard.
“Well, it looks like things are all set here,” Ty says looking at me.
“Yeah, looks great. Everything looks great.”
“You okay?” he asks.
“Yep. Let’s go.” I take his hand and lead him past the tables, weaving around chairs so as not to disrupt the perfectly presented fine dining experience. Perfect. Perfect. Perfect! I scream in my head.
Chapter 5:
We only have an hour or so left when we return to Ty’s house before we have to leave again for the big event. Overindulged bathroom primping is not a fault of mine, but tonight I need to look stunning, so I escape to my guestroom as soon as we get back to Ty’s house.
I scrub my face clean before applying a new layer of makeup. I make my eyes darker than usual, a black eyeliner with light pink eye shadow to complement my dress. I am blessed with thick hair like my dad. Everyone tells me it’s my best feature next to my legs, so only a little volumizing is needed. I rub honeysuckle lotion on my legs because I know it will drive Ty crazy in the best possible way. The new stilettos help put them on display. I feel confident. I should, if only I could get thoughts of that Jess girl out of my head. I never cared that Ty talked to girls when we went to school together. Why, since he’s been gone to college, do I care? He’s never cheated on me. He’s never done one thing to even make me suspicious.
I check my phone. Carmen has sent me a selfie. She looks so cool with her new jet black cropped hair. I could never pull that off in a million years. I am so glad she is coming tonight. I might need a good emotional slap in the face. Better to get it from her than Ty. He’d just be disappointed in me.
“We have to get going!” Ty yells from downstairs. I take a deep breath. One final look in the mirror, and I am ready. I walk toward the stairs across the massive upstairs landing.
“Oh, my!” Ty stands at the bottom of the stairs with his mouth hanging open. “You look amazing, Mae.”
“Thank you. You don’t look so bad yourself.” He is wearing a black suit jacket with faint gray pinstripes. His hair is still full and all over the place, but with the right amount of gel to hold it all together in the most appropriate way. Skipping the night’s plans and running away together sounds so much more pleasurable. I don’t feel like sharing tonight.
“I wish we could skip. I have many more ideas going through my head than hanging around a bunch of older rich people.”
“You’ve been reading my mind. However, a wise smartass once said, ‘We’ve gone over this a hundred times, Mae. I have to go to this party. Mom’s worked really hard raising support for that new shelter for women and children. This is going to be the biggest fundraiser yet. I figured after meeting Patsy and seeing those women in the halfway house and hearing some of the stories, you, of all people, could have some compassion.’ Ty smirks and pulls me in close.
“Let’s go before I throw you over my shoulder and march right back upstairs.”
Chapter 6:
I can’t believe we’re at the same place we were an hour ago. The lights have been dimmed, and what must be a thousand twinkling white lights are illuminating the banquet hall in The Woodson Center. It’s beautiful. The lights reflect off the perfectly shined silverware. Everything in its proper place. The disco ball is turning slowly while the string quartet is playing softly in the corner of the room. Couples of varying ages stand talking in groups, though we are by far the youngest I’ve yet to see. Mrs. Barber is standing next to her husband greeting guests near the entrance into the banquet room. We wait our turn.
“Mae, look at you,” says Mr. Barber, twirling me around. “You look beautiful. What a good-looking couple the two of you are.”
“Thank you, Mr. Barber.”
“I agree,” says Mrs. Barber. “And thank you both so much for your help. It gave me a lot of peace of mind knowing that things were all set for tonight.”
“You’ve worked so hard, Mom. It will be a wonderful evening.” Mrs. Barber smiles at her son. I know they are not biologically related, but they have the same contented twinkle in their eyes when they are happy. This is going to be the perfect evening. “Can I get you something to drink?” Ty asks his Mom.
“No, thank you. The two of you run off. I’ve got to make sure all of the tickets are being collected at the door, and we don’t have any party crashers.” There’s that twinkle again.
“How much were the tickets?” I ask Ty when we are standing at the bar.
“$75 per person or $100 per couple.”
“That’s a lot of money.”
“My mom is very persuasive.”
“Sounds like someone else I know.” I hug Ty. He smells woodsy, a mixture of cedar and freshly cut grass.
“Want a pop or a virgin daiquiri?” he asks.
“What about what I want?” We turn around. Carmen is standing behind Ty with a huge smile on her face.
“Carmen!” We embrace like we haven’t seen each other in months, which in this case is the truth.
“You look ravishing, Mae. What do you think of my dress?” Carmen curtsies. The black lace crinoline peaks out from under her short hot pink single-shoulder dress. A new tattoo covers the bare shoulder. It looks like a raven.
“Unforgettable,” I say.
“Where’s this young man I’ve been hearing about?” asks Ty.
“Young man? What are you, like 80?” she asks. We both laugh. “Darren went to move his motorcycle. Apparently, they don’t like motorcycles parked on the sidewalk at The Woodson Center.”
“Ghastly,” I say, throwing the back of my hand against my forehead.
“We’ll meet you at our table, okay?” says Ty. “There’s someone we need to say hi to right now.” Ty nods his head toward the front door. Patsy is standing there looking like a deer caught in headlights.
“Sure thing. See you in a bit.” Ty grabs my hand and leads me around the tables which seem even closer together now that the room is filling up.
“Patsy, so nice to see you,” says Ty. He kisses her cheek. She relaxes her shoulders, if only a bit.
“And your dress is perfect,” I say.
“This old thing?” says Patsy. She fingers a silver glittery cocktail dress that falls at her knees with shoulder pads that date the dress to the 1980s. She smiles.
“Truly, Patsy,” I say. “You look great.”
“Thanks, Mae. I…I think I’m out of my element here. Not sure why Mrs. Barber invited me.”
“Because you are an inspiration for her, and for many, Patsy,” I say.
“Tell us about the apartment,” says Ty. Patsy brightens up as she tells us about a couch she found on sale from one of the large department stores in town, the first new piece of furniture she’s ever owned. I lock my arm through Ty’s, so happy to be spending the evening with the people that mean the most to him.
Carmen and Darren, who looks very normal in a black sports coat and red bowtie, play googly eyes during the opening announcements by Mrs. Barber and other members of the committee. I eat my candy I’d picked up by the front door. I am starving and can’t wait to see all the food we’ll be eating with the appropriate silverware, of course.
The salad dressings are brought out first and a basket of rolls. In addition to Carmen and Darren and us, there are two other couples at our table: a twenty-something girl and her date—both of whom seem very awkward with conversation giving me reason to believe they’re on a blind date given tickets by their mothers who must be on the planning committee—and a duo of thirteen-year-old boys who only look up from their iPhones long enough to grab a roll. I gather they can’t be trusted home alone. Fine by me. I have the perf
ect companion sitting right next to me.
“More water?” asks the waitress.
“Yes, please.” I lift my glass into the hands of Jess, the supermodel waitress I’d met earlier. I nearly spill the entire glass in the lap of my thirteen-year-old neighbor. My hand is suddenly shaky.
“Mae/Macy? Right?”
“Yes,” I say. “Mae is fine.” I give a fake smile.
“Hey, Ty,” she says, sweeter than necessary. “Can I order something for you at the bar? I can bring you alcohol. No one checks the wait staff.”
“No, thanks,” Ty says. “I’ll stick with root beer.” He lifts his glass.
“No problem.”
“I’ll take something,” says Darren from across the table. “How about a beer? Whatever’s on tap.”
“I’m sorry. We can’t serve alcohol to guests. You’ll have to show ID at the bar,” says Jess.
“But I just heard you tell Ty—” Carmen cuts him off.
“You heard her, Darren. Can it.”
“Not cool.” Darren moves his chair away from Jess like she’s supposed to be offended, but she’s too interested in Ty at the moment to give a damn about what a guy in a red bowtie is doing. Jess fills everyone’s water glasses and returns with another root beer for Ty before I’ve even had a chance to ask him any of the questions that have been running through my head.
“Anything else you need, just let me know, Ty. You’re a special guest tonight.” I roll my eyes. Carmen notices and rolls them back, raising her eyebrows as if to ask Who the hell is that girl? I shake my head no because now is not the time.
“Thanks, Jess.” The dinner courses, salad followed by chicken and fish followed by a strawberry cheesecake, proceeds the same way. Jess fawns over Ty. She ignores our requests: me for tartar sauce and Carmen for coffee. Even more infuriating than the obvious way she is throwing herself at my boyfriend, is the way my boyfriend seems completely oblivious to her actions. I suppose I should be happy that he doesn’t seem to notice—noted by the fact that he simply keeps shoving food in his mouth like he’s not had a good meal in months—but instead I am angry that he doesn’t seem as offended as I am.
“You seem quiet, Mae,” he says as he rubs my back. “You okay?”
“Um, sure,” I say through clenched teeth.
“That was convincing.” I don’t want a fight. I really don’t. I promised myself this would be the perfect weekend. No fighting. No insecurities. No self-fulfilling prophecy, but it’s…so…hard.
After dinner Mrs. Barber takes the microphone again. She thanks everyone for coming and presents a short Power Point on the plans for the new domestic violence center, complete with ten rooms including suites for women with children and a large common area that looks like a homey library with computer stations and cozy getaway corners. I’ve never met anyone other than Patsy who has been abused, and that was long before I met her, but I know it happens. If this center can provide women with the services they need to be safe and self-sufficient, that’s a great thing. I observe Patsy as she watches the video. She’s been given a seat of honor at the organizers’ table, though she receives no special introduction. She’d actually begged Ty’s Mom. It was a few months back.
Patsy: “No, ma’am. I will not come to that party if there’s even a flicker of a spotlight on me.”
Mrs. Barber: “But, Patsy, you are my guest of honor. You are my inspiration.”
Patsy: “No, I’d just as soon go back to that hole in the wall Mae found me living in than be anyone’s poster child for abuse.”
Mrs. Barber: “But don’t you see, you’re not a poster child for abuse. You’re an example for what you can make of your life despite the years of abuse.” Patsy would not budge. I can’t say that I blame her. Thinking about having to be an example to others just because a bunch of people in my family had died and I hadn’t succumbed to drugs or slitting my wrists sounded about as much fun as reading my favorite novel outside in a blizzard while wearing my bathing suit.
“Want to dance, deep thinker?” I hadn’t even noticed the change in music. Gone is the string quartet, replaced by a DJ in the opposite corner of the dance floor. In addition to the twirling disco ball, a series of flashing lights bounces off the dance floor, setting up a more electric vibe to offset the seriousness of tonight’s purpose. A dance with Ty is exactly what I need.
Maroon 5 blasts through the speakers. Ty pulls me to the middle of the dance floor. Though we are soon surrounded by many other couples, most too old to even know who Maroon 5 is, I feel like we are alone. I put my head on his chest and let his heartbeat steady my breathing and unfog my brain.
“You’ve been kind of quiet,” he says.
“Sorry.”
“Something bothering you?”
“No, I mean…maybe.” Why can’t I keep my mouth shut? Ty tips up my chin. How can I lie to those dreamy blue eyes?
“Spill.” I don’t speak. “Mae, you know there’s nothing you can’t tell me. What’s wrong?” The next song plays. Most of the couples remain on the dance floor, but enough leave that I can see through the dancers to the banquet hall. I see Jess clearing plates from our table. And she sees me seeing her, or rather, she sees Ty. I take a deep breath.
“How do you know Jess?”
“Didn’t I tell you?” he asks.
“No. No, you didn’t.”
“Well, she used to go to Woodson.”
“I know that.”
“I told you already then.”
“I mean, what was your relationship?” Ty pulls me closer and whispers into my ear.
“I was a kid, Mae. We were sixteen. It doesn’t matter anymore. You are all that matters now.”
“So, you dated?”
“If you can call our crush dating. Yes, she was my first girlfriend, but we rarely went anywhere outside of school, a couple of movies our parents drove us to. Then she moved. I never talked to her again until earlier today, and I never thought about her again, either. You have to believe me.” I lift my head to look at Ty. He couldn’t lie if he wanted to.
“But she’s thought about you.”
“You’re being ridiculous, Mae. It was a long time ago. Please don’t start. This is an awesome night.” I know I should stop now, but I have a history of messing things up, so nothing is different this time.
“Come on, Ty. She has been ogling you since she first laid eyes on you earlier. She was fawning all over you at dinner, completely ignoring the rest of us. She’s practically throwing herself at you. And did you see her uniform? Compared to everyone else, she’s the only one with a push-up bra and cleavage. That’s clearly meant for your enjoyment.”
“Well, I haven’t enjoyed it. I didn’t even notice!” He raises his voice. The furrow between his eyebrows wrinkles.
“Seriously?”
“Damn it, Mae. Seriously.” The music changes. Some rock song from the 50s starts playing for the older crowd. Ty and I stand in the middle of the dance floor, being pushed into lines according to gender as the men and women separate into two lines. The lead male and female jive and be-bop down the middle of the lines followed by the next couple. Ty isn’t smiling. I look at him as if to say, “I’m sorry.” But he’s not reading my eyes. He’s leaving the line and leaving me standing across from a gentleman who must be in his seventies. I can’t leave now. This is not happening. Why can’t I stop being so foolish? Before I can run after Ty I am being grabbed round the waist and forced into a sidestep down the center of the dance floor. A couple of twirls and an unexpected dip at the end, and I am free. But where is Ty? Carmen is the first familiar face I find.
“Carmen, you have to help me.”
“What’s wrong?” she asks.
“Have you seen Ty?”
“No. Have you seen Darren?”
“No.”
“Damn. I think he ditched me. Can you believe that idiot? So this party isn’t the most happening event in town, but geesh, maybe we could try something I want to do once
in a while. Is that asking too much?”
“No, it’s not, Carmen.” I touch her arm. “I’m sorry.” She’s got a tough exterior now, but she’s still sweet on the inside. “I think you need to date a guy with tattoos and forget the bowtie-wearing kind.”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I need.” She smiles. “So what’s up with you and Ty?”
“Oh, I completely blew it.”
“You confronted him about that bitch that’s been throwing around her boobs all night?”
“Yeah. She was his first girlfriend. Can you believe that?”
“More than what I thought, but it’s obvious she has a thing for him now.”
“Uh-huh.”
“But, Mae, Ty didn’t give her the time of day beyond common manners. You probably pissed him off getting jealous.”
“Yep. And this weekend was supposed to be magical.”
“Magical? What is that?”
“Oh, shut up. You know what I mean. We’ve been fighting a lot, and he’s leaving for U of M tomorrow. We don’t have enough time together as it is. We don’t need to be spending it fighting.” Carmen nods her head toward the reserved table near the front of the room. I turn and look. Ty is sitting next to Patsy. Good for her. If I can’t have Ty right now, she’s the next most deserving of his time. “Thanks.”
“Make it right, Mae. You’ve got the real thing.”
“Thanks, Carmen.” I start to walk away. “You need a ride home, though. Right?”
“I’ll call a cab.”
“You will not. Let me ask Ty for the keys. I’ll run you home and come back. Maybe he will have cooled down by then. I don’t think you want to stay to the bitter end. I’m sure that’s how long we’ll be here.”
“Thanks.”
Ty barely looked at me when I asked for the keys, but he wasn’t about to make a scene in front of Patsy. Carmen and I don’t say much to each other on the short drive to her house. I guess we’re both lost in thought with our own boy troubles.
After I drop off Carmen, I don’t drive straight back to The Woodson Center. Something makes me turn the other direction. A connection to another part of town that I’ve long since abandoned in my mind draws me back. When I get there, I park in the lot and shut off the engine. There is a light on in the second story apartment. Someone new is living in the space that I once occupied, that last new home I ran to before returning to Andersonville to confront my demons. I’d spent nearly a year running. I don’t feel responsible for the death of my dad, sister, and grandma like I once did. I know my actions didn’t cause my dad to fall, or my sister to get hit on her bicycle, or my grandma to have a heart attack. Counseling has helped me to understand what my actions are responsible for and what they are not. But no amount of counseling has lifted the sense of dread I feel about what deep down I know must be coming in my future. Happiness is fleeting. Who has learned that lesson better than me? It’s not that I want to live like that. I just can’t help but not to. In my rearview mirror I can see the halfway house where I first met Patsy. To imagine that is where I’d meet Ty’s biological mother never would have crossed my mind in a million years. I didn’t even know he had a different mom. But I suppose when your mom has been put in jail for killing your dad, no matter why, that’s not something you share with new friends. What a year it’s been. What a life it’s been. I know I should go back. Even Ty must be getting anxious that I haven’t returned, but I can’t seem to move. The tears come slowly first, a lone drop down my cheek. Soon, though, the stray tears flow like a dam that’s been breached, and the body heaves like a cathartic release of the burdens in my soul. I don’t know how long I sit like this, but when I have stopped shuddering and have no more tears left to cry, I let out a sigh that feels like the punctuation after a perfectly crafted sentence.
