by Gabi Moore
“Why did you do it, Alex? Why did you hit me?” I asked. We had never had a conversation like this before.
Silence.
“I was afraid.”
“Of what?”
“Jesus, of so many things. Afraid you would leave. Afraid you would see what a fuck-up I was. You were always so smart, you know? You always knew so much. And you always seemed so calm. It pissed me off honestly. Like you were better than me. I don’t know. It’s sick. I felt like you would leave eventually. I couldn’t talk to you. I had no idea how to even explain what I needed. I’m learning now, Maddy. Too late, I know, but I’m learning.”
In the cool dark of the night, the tears on my lower lashes stung hot.
“I’m glad, Alex. I wish you only the best,” I said. I meant it, too. The whole conversation felt like a dream, and at any moment I’d wake up and see the same old usual texts calling me a whore and it would be my life as usual and at least then I’d know what to do. But this was all so strange. I thought of Zack again. Of his story about his ex.
“Alex, I need your help with something.”
“Anything,” he answered immediately. “What do you need? I’ll help you with anything.”
“This new guy …you know the one I’ve been seeing…?” I said. I heard him draw breath on the other side of the line.
“Yeah. The prisoner. What about him?”
“Well, I need some advice. He’s a bit …he’s a bit like you, in some ways”.
“Oh yeah? Asshole’s got a left hook on him that I’m a little jealous of, but yeah.”
“I’m afraid that …don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m afraid that if I get involved with him, the same thing will happen again. That he’ll become violent, that we’ll fight. Is that weird? Does that make sense?”
In the three years I had dated Alex, we had never had a conversation this personal, let alone a conversation about another man.
The line was quiet for a long, long time. I could hear him thinking. This was crazy. Maybe I had finally broken this weird spell, and he would launch into a full-blown attack now. Like always. Would he just laugh and say how this had all been one giant prank?
“Look, I’m not a fan of the guy, Maddy. Of course I’m not. He handed my ass to me; obviously I’m not going to sing the guy’s praises. But there’s only one question you need to ask, at the end of the day.”
This was it. This was the cheesy hallmark moment when he would ask me if I loved Zack or not. But how would I know if I loved him? It was so soon. I had no idea what I really felt about him yet, wasn’t it too soon? Who could ever really say, right? Did men ever really love women anyway?
“There’s only one question I think you should ask, and that is, do you love yourself when you’re around him?” he said.
My breath under the blankets was condensing into tiny water beads on the screen of the phone. It was a damn good question. And I answered it easily.
“Yes. Yes, I do.”
“Well, then that seems pretty clear to me. Look, can I let you in on a little secret?”
“Ok…”
“The bigger and tougher the guy? The more noise he makes and the badder he seems? Well, the tougher the guy, the softer he is on the inside. I promise. Don’t worry about guys who seem a bit dinged up. Don’t be worried about angry men. It’s the heart that matters. You’re a good person, Maddy. You just don’t know what’s good for you. Does he make you happy?”
“Yes.”
“Does he encourage you to do all the things you love, and does he ask about the things you care about and does he remember the answers you tell him?”
“He does, actually.”
“Then go for it. And Maddy, if he ever lays a hand on you …” he said, and I could hear the smile on his voice. “Well I can try beat him up for you, right? Don’t stress about that. You deserve nice things. Trust yourself. And try to remember, not all men are like me.”
I was crying. The tears rolled easily out of my eyes and into the pillowcase. Why had Alex waited so long to say all of this? Where was this sweet, understanding guy when I had needed him? Why did he have to hurt me to realize all of this? A sad sense of regret washed over me.
“Oh my god, Alex, I don’t know when you turned into, like, Oprah or something,” I mumbled, trying to wipe my cheeks. He laughed good-naturedly.
“Yeah, well, I guess they’re getting something through my thick skull at that course I told you about.”
“Oh right, the course. I forgot about that. I guess it was worth the money.”
“The money was nothing. Money’s just money. The real cost was losing you,” he said, voice serious again.
I was stunned.
“Alex, I’m sorry …but we can’t be together anymore, Alex, we can’t.”
“I’m not asking you to.”
“You’re not?”
“No. Go and be with what’s-his-face. Guy seems a little rough around the edges but he doesn’t take shit. I can respect that.”
I beamed.
“I like him Alex. I think I like him a lot.”
I heard him clear his throat on the other end of the line.
“I’m gonna go now, Maddy. It’s hard, talking to you like this. Please take care of yourself?”
“Are you …are you going now? Can I speak to you again?” I said.
It felt like Alex had been in my life forever. He had never said ‘goodbye’ and meant it before. Hell, most of our relationship was spent with me wishing he’d just go once and for all. But something in the tone of his voice let me know he was serious this time.
“Alex, I’ll miss you,” I said quietly.
“I’ll miss you too.”
“Goodbye.”
“Goodbye, Maddy. Thank you for everything.”
The line went dead before I could thank him in return. And just like that, he was gone.
I lay for a long time in bed, thinking. It was so late, but my mind was racing. One of the cats jumped onto the bed and nestled beside me, and my hand went absentmindedly to stroke her warm ears as she curled up against me.
It was true. I felt different around Zack. Like myself, only better.
I drifted off to sleep, thinking how difficult it had seemed to cut the ties of the past, but how swiftly they had dissolved now, all at once. I almost couldn’t imagine life now, without a crazy ex hanging over me. Hand on the cat’s ears, I slipped into a long, dreamless sleep.
And I thought of him.
Chapter 18 - Zack
“Ben, go and call your father for dinner please,” she said.
Ma was in her reclining chair; milky eyes scanning round the living room, both her gnarled hands clutching the arms of the chair like turkey claws.
“Ma, Ben isn’t here. It’s only me. It’s Zack here with you, remember?”
She tightened her mouth a little and looked me over, and then chuckled.
“Sorry about that, just having a senior moment, honey,” she muttered under her breath.
These ‘senior moments’ were looking more and more like full blown dementia, if any of the five doctors from the last month were to be trusted. A month ago it had only been a once-daily event, and she was sly enough to hide any memory lapses inside a well-timed joke, or she’d simply shrug her shoulders and change the topic. But she was becoming worse at that lately. And the senior moments were coming thick and fast.
At her age, nobody expected her to endure much more time beyond what she’d already done. In prison, you could spot people like my mother a mile away. They were going through the motions, sure, but everyone could see that they were done. They had done their time, and now they had checked out, in spirit if not in body.
Though it chewed me up to see her like this, I was also secretly relieved. Ma had started complaining about being tired from the time I was in middle school. And she had never stopped being tired. She was still tired. Nobody would blame her if she took a rest now. Not after everything.
“Ben? Wo
n’t you call Maggie for dinner?” she said, her eyes scanning over the room again.
I rubbed my face.
“Ma, it’s me Zack. Ben isn’t here. And Maggie isn’t here either.”
She looked puzzled and squeezed the sides of the chair.
“Is she coming for dinner?”
“No, ma, Maggie and I broke up, remember? A long time ago.”
She frowned and squeezed, squeezed and frowned.
“Broke up? Are you sure?”
I was about to say something when the doorbell rang. Who the hell could that be, so late at night? I stood up.
“That’ll be Maggie! Such a sweet girl. Go and get her, we’re starting with dinner soon.”
I sighed and walked over to the door and opened it.
My jaw dropped.
It was Maggie. Fucking Maggie. Alive and well and real as anything and standing in our doorway, her handbag held across her body and her eyes wide. I heard ma shuffling behind me and turned to see her smiling and gesturing for Maggie to come in.
“Well, don’t just stand there, honey, come inside, we’re just about to have dinner!”
Those few seconds were the most excruciating of my life. Maggie stood there, all black hair and black clothes and panda eyes just like she always did them, and everything was just the same, except she was a little older. A little more tired looking, maybe. She looked as confused as I was, and shot me strange looks as she stepped inside and stood there awkwardly as ma forced a hug on her and then pulled her into the living room. I closed the door and tried to think. I hadn’t seen Maggie in …years.
She was dead to me, for all it mattered. After everything happened, she had become a ghost. And now she was resurrected somehow and here, in my living room. For a brief moment, I wondered if something sinister was about to happen. I closed the door quietly, mind racing.
They were both sitting on the sofa. Ma gripped Maggie’s hands in hers and raced through some small talk, cooing over her and smiling.
“So what …uh, what are you having for dinner?” Maggie asked. She shot pleading eyes at me as I walked in.
“Dinner? Oh no honey we’ve had dinner already.”
I caught Maggie’s eye and we stared at each other for a moment, two whole years and a jail sentence somehow crammed in that little space between us.
“Is this a bad time? I can just go.”
“Go? Don’t be crazy, for goodness sake,” ma said and stood to hobble towards the kitchen. “I’ll tell you what, I’ll leave you kids be, I’ve got work to do anyway.”
“Work? Ma, what work are you doing?” I said. I couldn’t deal with this shit right now.
“Well gosh, it’s nearly 8 o’clock and I haven’t even started dinner yet, that’s what!”
I stood in front of Maggie and we looked at one another. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
“Your mom… she’s not well,” she said. Her voice was still that same husky timbre I remembered. The kind of voice that only went clear and bright when she was screaming at you. A dangerous voice. Threatening or sexy, depending on how sure of yourself you felt.
“Yeah. Senior moments. It’s not looking good,” I said, and rubbed the back of my neck with my hand.
“You look well,” she said quietly.
“Thanks. You too, I guess.”
I realized all at once that I wanted her to leave. I was bone tired. This shit with ma’s dementia, and with Maddy suddenly seeming all distant and weird with me, and having to make money stretch till the end of the month while I waited for my first salary from the new job to come in… it was all too much. And she was too much. She had always been too much.
“Sit with me?” she said and patted the sofa seat next to her.
I shifted my weight and crossed my arms, not budging. The faint smile disappeared from her face.
“I heard you got out.”
“Evidently,” I said. It came out sounding meaner than I wanted it to, but I hated her being in ma’s house like this. Seeing ma struggle. Why had she pitched up here so late? And wasn’t she supposed to be living out of state somewhere?
She stood up and sidled over to me, and I felt the hairs stand on the back of my neck. Her perfume was too strong and her lipstick too dark. I couldn’t decipher her expression but I knew I didn’t like it. She was looking at me the same way Maddy would look at one of her sick puppies after it threw up on the carpet: half pity, half irritation.
“You’re angry at me,” she said. If she was planning on having a big fat discussion right now, she had another thing coming.
“Can I ask why you’re here?” I said.
“Just to talk. It’s been so long.”
She took a step towards me and stood close. Really close. Her body suddenly struck me as so small compared to Maddy’s. It was a tight body. All teeth and bone and spite, held together with jewelry. She was like a bat. It took everything in me not to take a step away from her. To my dismay, I could hear ma clanging pots and pans in the kitchen.
Maggie reached out and touched my arm, and my skin crawled under her touch. Before I could object, she wrapped her arms round my neck and brought herself in for a hug. A wave of anger washed through me and I pushed her back again, hard, causing her to stagger back a step.
“What are you doing?” I hissed.
“What are you doing?” She looked down at the place where I had pushed her, then back up at me. Her voice wasn’t at screaming pitch yet, but it sure was getting there.
“Maggie, I haven’t seen you in years. I don’t …why are you even here?”
I heard ma begin to sing in the kitchen. A hard lump gathered in my throat.
“Jeez, fuck, I’m so sorry, I thought you’d be glad to see me,” she said bitterly.
“You just disappeared, Maggie. I didn’t hear from you. It’s been two years. Where the fuck did you even go?”
“I was hurting, Zack, OK? I was really confused. A lot of stuff happened back then, you know…”
“Yeah, all stuff that you caused.”
The look on her face was painful to see.
“I was scared, Zack.”
“So, what am I supposed to do about that? Leave then. Why are you even here?” My fists were so tight I felt my nails bite into my palms.
She sighed. “I see that not much has changed.”
“What do you want, Maddy?” I was more than bone tired.
“Maddy? Did you just call me Maddy?”
My skin prickled into a cold sweat.
“I think you should just go. Unless you had something specific you wanted to say, well, it’s late and I have to work tomorrow…”
“Who’s Maddy?” she asked, quick as a fox. She was almost smiling. I looked her square in the eye and sighed loudly.
“A woman I’m seeing.”
A wonderful woman, my inner dialogie continued. A woman who taught me things I didn’t even know I needed to learn. A sweet, beautiful, loving woman, one who’s very body seemed designed for every form of pleasure. A woman who made me want to weep with joy every time she looked my way and smiled. A woman who knew my dark, sordid history. Most of it anyway. And a woman who was drifting away, even now, even at this very second as ma was making dinner for the second time that evening, and my sordid past had rung the doorbell and waltzed into my living room in black stilettos, like nothing had ever happened.
“A woman. Is it serious?” she asked. Like she had any right to know.
“Yes. I think so.”
She looked at me.
“Does she know about me?”
I knew how her mind worked. For Maggie, everything was about her, and she had endless energy for creating whatever drama she needed to if she happened to find that something had the audacity to not be about her.
“Yes,” I said simply.
I knew that for Maggie, words were weapons, and she loved to take yours from you and turn them right back against you. So I gave her just one.
She took a step back an
d slowly paced around the room, picking up ma’s little ornaments and knick-knacks in her hand, one at a time, examining each one like she was deciding whether to smash it onto the ground or not. She seemed unimpressed with everything.
“And does she know about your …little issue?” she asked, with slow, quiet deliberation, almost sneering the words.
“That has nothing to do with anything. There is no issue. You know I was getting help for that, even before I went in.”
She shot me a poisonous look.
“So you haven’t told her then,” she said, and smiled darkly.
“There’s nothing to tell.”
“Poor girl.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
She paced around the room a little more, like a panther in its cage, like she was gathering up strength to say the most biting thing she possibly could. There was a time when Maggie was young and sweet. When her black hair had a playful blue glint to it. Not anymore though. Life had done weird things to her. She picked up a tiny crystal frog in her hands and turning it over and over.
“I think you’d better go now, Maggie,” I said, and took a step towards her. The second I did, she jolted away from me. Both her hands instantly flew up as though to defend herself, a little black deer in headlights. She seemed genuinely alarmed. Was I such a monster? Was I so bad that people needed to be jittery around me? She gave a nervous smile and placed a hand on her chest to calm down, as though someone had just jumped out at her from behind a door.
“I’m sorry,” she said, suddenly more serious. “You’re not the only one with flashbacks, you know.”
She squirmed a little under my gaze. I felt like shit. It had taken all of five minutes of seeing her again and the old familiar feeling had come rushing right back: around Maggie, I was always the villain. Always the unwanted brute. Able to make her wince and cower just by moving too quickly.
I wrestled internally for a moment, wondering whether reaching out and hugging her would be soothing or just another insult for her to shrink back from. For a moment, her hair had that glossy blue tint in it again.
