by M. Mabie
She cocked her head sideways and then returned to the oven to preset the temperature.
“Just face it, you’re old,” my brother, Shane, told our dad as they came through the door below in the foyer of their split-level house. “And since there isn’t any proof that what you say is true, I’m sticking with my gut and believing your alleged benching stats are nothing more than an old man’s fishing tale.”
“You’re a shithead. When are you moving out?” my dad swiftly argued back, both of them laughing.
“I can’t very much leave my feeble parents now. Not when my father is mental and his physical condition is declining so fast.”
“Declining? I ran three miles today,” Dad countered. “That’s more than you ran, son.” I watched my dad’s chest puff up with pride as the two bickered back and forth.
“I told you. Today wasn’t my cardio day. I’m alternating.”
They squabbled as they filed up the stairs.
“Alternating between bullshit and reality as usual,” my dad teased. Then, when he noticed us, he said, “Both of my girls. Hi, baby girl,” he added, just to me, as he rounded the island and went to my mom, wrapping his arms around her.
“You’re all sweaty, Phillip.” She squirmed, but smiled showing she really didn’t protest as much as she tried to let on.
“I know. It’s from all the circles I ran around your first-born,” he affirmed as he kissed the side of her head. They’d always been loving in front of us—nothing too disturbing—but the older I got, the more I appreciated their affection for one another. I valued seeing the love my parents still had for one another. Sitting there, I was a little jealous of how easy it came for them. I wondered if they’d ever struggled in love. Probably not.
But with my eyes wide open, seeing them together felt like the confirmation I was looking for. I was leaving a marriage I wasn’t in love with, a man I wasn’t in love with, and it was the right choice. The only choice I had if I wanted real love. Real intimacy. With Casey.
Preparing to deliver the news with regards to my marriage, I hoped their lack of love trouble didn’t affect how they viewed mine.
“Blake wants to talk to us,” my mom stated as she skillfully danced out of his arms and rummaged through a drawer for a whisk. Pointing the utensil at him she continued, “Go shower, and we’ll all sit down to eat.”
I’d be choking down flesh pile with my family. Crow and meatloaf for dinner.
My brother filled a glass with water and turned around to listen when Mom had said I needed to talk, like something major was going on. I suppose there was, but the attention shifting to me like that made me even more nervous on the inside. On the outside, I tried to maintain my cool.
“Are you okay?” Shane asked, concern wrinkling his brow. For the better part of the last few years, Shane had fallen into a sort of life slump. Since moving back in with Mom and Dad, his post-divorce life seemed stalled. Over the past year, he’d drunk more than I was used to seeing from him, became more closed off, and I even worried if he’d suffered a little from depression. But then again, who wouldn’t?
Looking at him, I acknowledged he was the one who invited our dad to the gym and I realized he was beginning to look better. Starting to look like pre-Kari Shane. It made me happy seeing him coming out of his love-funk. Hopefully, he was bouncing back from wherever he’d gone.
“I’m fine,” I assured quietly and shook my head to dispel his brotherly worry. “I’ve just made some decisions and want to let you guys know what’s going on. You two go shower, and I’ll help Mom with dinner. It’s fine. Really.”
They all sort of looked at each other agreeing, then Shane and Dad left to clean up.
“I’ll wash up and help you out,” I told my mother, then made my way to the powder room to wash my hands and get a grasp on my nerves. I really missed Casey, but I knew this was the only way I’d ever get him.
These were the steps I had to take. It just sucked I had to take them by myself. Then I realized maybe I didn’t have to. I pulled my phone from my pocket and sent him a quick message.
Me: I’m at my parents’ house. I’m telling them. I wish you were here.
I didn’t know if he’d get it right away or if he’d reply, but just knowing I could message him whenever I wanted filled me with hope. I wasn’t afraid of getting caught anymore. I’d already been caught.
It was the first time I’d treated our situation like reality. He was my reality. My truth. When I thought about it like that, I began looking forward to our reality being out there for all to see. Weight seemed to lift off me as I ran my hands under the warm water. When I looked at my reflection, I saw a smile in my eyes. It felt so good knowing I was about to let it all out. Then, it spread to my mouth.
Everything was going to be all right. This was happening. I was doing the right thing and I could feel it throughout my whole body.
My cell chirped at me.
Casey: I’m here, honeybee. You’re not alone. You can do this. They love you. Just like me.
That was all I needed. We were in this together. He was with me and knowing that together we’d get through this, I felt stronger than I ever had.
Me: Call you in a little while?
Casey: Call me all the time.
I helped my mom cook and she didn’t dig for information, like a good mom. When we finally sat down to eat, I began. “I’ve been keeping a secret for a long time and I’ve hurt some people. I’m not proud of some of the things I’ve done over the past couple of years, but I’m in love with a man named Casey. I’m leaving Grant.”
They asked questions, but where I’d expected disappointment and disapproval, I’d received understanding and sympathy.
“Sweetie, why did you marry Grant if you didn’t love him?” my mother asked as she fought back tears after we discussed my wedding day and how Casey had come there to change my mind.
“I was afraid of what I didn’t know. I didn’t know if Casey would break my heart or if what I felt for him was even real. It just seemed so overwhelming and crazy to not know what my future would look like. He seemed so wild and unpredictable.” My dad sat quietly nodding, his head propped up on his fist as he listened. “I was confused and I thought that you and Dad wanted me to marry Grant.” I fought the urge to bite my nails and pictured Casey’s smiling face to keep me from breaking down. He was there. “I thought that it would pass. That my feelings for him were just a result of the fun we had together. I didn’t know he felt the same way. I do now.”
I wasn’t ashamed of loving Casey, because I didn’t have any control over it. It wasn’t a decision to make. It just was. Plain and simple.
We talked for hours. They didn’t judge me. Again I was reminded that had I been stronger, had I just a little more faith, there wouldn’t be a mess to clean up. I wouldn’t be getting a divorce. And I wouldn’t be sitting explaining a love that was so hard to put into words. I wouldn’t be explaining a love that had been hidden, concealed. Casey would be there with me.
If I had been stronger, then there wouldn’t be a need to tell them I’ll never love anybody the way I loved Casey, because they would have met him and seen it for themselves.
I’d wasted so much time being scared of being wrong. I couldn’t see that there is no right and wrong with love. It’s not debatable. It’s not chosen.
Love is true.
I held my composure until I got to the end of my story, until I explained how everything happened at the wedding reception with Grant and Casey.
“I wasn’t upset that it was out, Mom, I was relieved. It’s so hard acting like you love one man when you’re pretending you don’t love another. And I’m so in love with Casey.”
Hot tears poured over my cheeks.
“Hurting Grant is bad. But knowing I’ve hurt Casey is the worst pain I’ll ever know. That’s how I know I love him, because I cannot tolerate the thought of him in pain anymore. I’ve tortured us for too long trying to do what I thought was right.�
� I swiped my face with my dinner napkin and noticed my mom was silently crying.
I smiled through my tears feeling relief, knowing I didn’t have to carry the weight of my secrets around anymore.
Shane, who sat beside my mom, rubbed her back as she bit her quivering lip. My dad moved around the table to sit next to me and asked, “How does Casey feel?”
“He loves me too,” I affirmed. “He says we’ll get through it together.”
It wasn’t going to be easy, but together we would get through it.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
ADMITTING YOU’VE BEEN A massive dick isn’t the easiest pill to swallow. But together, Blake and I were taking steps to clean up the messes we’d made.
On Tuesday, I finally went into the brewery. I’d worked from home on Monday and set up a few sales calls for the month, but I needed to go in and do some year-end paperwork that I should have done, well before year-end, but it was what it was.
I was apprehensive when I pulled in and saw Aly was there, but something about the way Blake stepped up and laid it all out for her parents and her brother made me feel like I needed to do the same thing. I owed it to her. I owed it to Aly. I owed it to me.
It was a new year and my dick got hard thinking about how, already, so much had changed. It felt fresh and clean and there was so much to look forward to.
In the same spirit as Blake had with coming clean with her family, I wanted to start the year off on the right foot. That began with swallowing my pride and apologizing to Aly.
“I’m not proud of how I treated you,” I admitted from behind my desk in my office. I had called her in when I saw her pass by. She looked annoyed and a little smug, which I expected, because deep down she really cared for me. That was the truth. Even though she pretty much took advantage of a really shitty situation when she came to my house, I shouldn’t have done what I did. And although I loved how things were turning around, using Aly to make Blake jealous publicly at my brother’s wedding, wasn’t the coolest thing I’d ever done. But I worked it and—thank fuck for me—it might’ve all been for the best. But for Aly, it probably wasn’t.
She sat cross-legged in the chair facing me and watched me expectantly.
“I owe you an apology for Christmas and New Year’s Eve. What it boils down to is, I used you and it was wrong.” It was an awkward conversation to have, but a necessary one. I watched the light on my desk phone glow with an incoming call, but I ignored it. What I had to say took precedence over business.
After I began speaking, her mood shifted and she refused to make eye contact with me, but then she finally said, “Don’t worry about it.” Her posture stiffened, putting up a tougher exterior, having realized I didn’t call her in for the reasons she may have thought. Of course, I was speculating, but I’d known her a long time. And unfortunately, it wasn’t the first time I’d had to start a conversation I knew she’d rather not be a part of. History had proven she only heard what she wanted anyway, but I continued.
“We work together. We are going to run this business together someday, I think. And most importantly, we’re friends. And I’m sorry.” Her focus was on the floor in front of my desk. It became too tense and I couldn’t take it anymore.
“Aly, please say something. You have to talk to me about this. We need to get it all out. Otherwise, it’s just going to fester and get worse.” I leaned back in my chair a little. It wasn’t the best place for a discussion like that, but I didn’t want to lead her on further by asking her to go and meet me somewhere.
“I don’t know what you want me to say, Casey.” She stood up and it looked like she was going to walk out the door, but it wasn’t like her to leave like that. And when she closed my door and then came around my desk, I knew shit was about to get real.
Sitting on the papers I had stacked up in front of me, she leaned toward me. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a tightly pinned bun thing. Like always, she was put together. Makeup. Dress. Heels. The whole nine yards.
“I don’t think you understand what I’m trying to say here, Aly,” I clarified as I pushed my chair back to get some space.
She leaned in even more. “I’m not sorry about it. Any of it, really. I’m glad you used me. I’m glad you took me to the wedding, and I’m really glad you finally came to your senses and left that bitch standing there. Maybe she’ll finally learn her lesson and be a good little wife like she should be.”
Every hair on my body stood at attention and random muscles throughout my body began to twitch. She was so wrong. How different the night looked from her point of view, just proved how warped the relationship between Blake and I looked on the outside. How it must have always looked to everyone around us.
“You don’t know everything, Aly. You only saw part of it.”
“What do you mean? You didn’t leave with her. She followed her husband. I watched out the window. You left.” She smiled like a pageant contestant after answering a question without blunder.
“I came back. Grant left without her. She’s leaving him,” I said. As soon as the words left my mouth, I thought better, realizing I should have left Blake out of it. The conversation was supposed to be about the things I’d done wrong—with regards to Aly—and seeing if there was a way the friendship between Aly and I could survive or if we’d just be co-workers and partners.
I wasn’t sure what I’d do if things couldn’t move forward with us professionally, but I’d hoped I wouldn’t have to deal with that. However, her sitting in front of me on my desk was a clear indication she still thought there was hope for us in some messed up way.
She laughed as she said, “She’s leaving him? And you’ve thought that how many times?” I couldn’t sit there anymore. The whole thing was fucked up.
Was eight thirty a.m. too early to start drinking?
“You know what? This was a bad idea,” I said as I walked to my door. I wasn’t going to participate in this cat and mouse game she liked to play. Not at work and not right then.
“She’s never going to leave him, Casey,” she announced matter-of-factly as she stood and headed toward me. I swung the door as wide as it would go and propped it open with an empty mini-keg I had in my office.
“I’m not talking about this with you. I wanted to apologize for being a prick. That’s all. The rest is none of your business. End of conversation.”
“Oh, end of conversation? See, even you know she’s just playing you. You just don’t want to admit it.” Aly was quickly pissing me off. What the hell did she know?
“Well, she already left him,” I said, probably a little louder than necessary.
“She did? That’s great.” Her phony smile reminded me why things with us never worked out. She mocked me with a snotty nodding of her snide face.
“Goodbye, Aly. I’ll have the rest of my end-of-year papers done before I leave,” I said, my faux professional voice matching her debutant smile.
She paraded out my door a few steps, then turned and probed, “So where is she then? Your honeybee. I wonder who she’s buzzing around now, because I don’t see her. If you’ve fooled yourself into thinking that her husband is the only one she’d be unfaithful to, you’re just as delusional as he was.”
What. A. Bitch. Why the fuck did I ever date her?
Propping the door open was a poor choice. I moved the little keg and promptly shut the door.
When do I leave San Francisco again?
I worked on my receipts and expenses until long past business hours. I’d only left for long enough to grab a sandwich down the street and the entire time I wanted to text Blake. I refused to admit that what Aly said had gotten under my skin. She was only trying to be vindictive, and some of that I most likely deserved because of how I’d treated her. I’d never intentionally hurt her, but she had no problem being a bitch to me on purpose.
It had been Bay Brewing Company’s best year ever. We were being served in almost every local pub and our national accounts just seemed to grow and push
east through the country. I was proud of the work I’d done over the last few years, but if I ever had to do that much paperwork again, I was quitting and going back to the brewery floor. Projections. Gain reports. Loss business reports—luckily those were few. Travel expenses. Donations. Samples. Write-offs. Blah. Blah. Fucking blah.
I needed a vacation.
It was just after six thirty while I was scanning the last of my account reports to myself, standing by the copier, when I texted her.
Me: I hate paperwork.
Me: My head hurts and I need a beer.
By the time I stapled the hard copies in organized groups and got back into my office, I finally felt my phone vibrate in my pocket.
Honeybee: Work was crazy here, too. I know I was just off for a few weeks, but I need a vacation. That would only make everything worse though.
Or would it? Things were slower around the brewery during January, and with opening up a few new production lines, we were caught up having the holidays behind us.
Maybe a vacation was a good idea.
I wondered if she’d go for it. I sat at my desk and immediately began a search. It was winter. So almost anywhere in the US would be cold, which boded well for indoor activities, but I was suffering a bout of cabin fever on top of everything else.
I hastily made a list of priorities: sand, water, Blake in a bikini, taking Blake’s bikini off, beers—we must have beers. Then I was sidetracked and opened a bottle—one of the new test brews I had in my mini-fridge—and set back to the task at hand.
Hawaii? No.
Bahamas? No.
Mexico? No.
Then, I saw a picture. It looked like paradise. Beaches. Waterfalls. Private hot tubs near the ocean. Yep. I was fucking sold. I needed that. She needed it just as bad.
She’d told her parents a few nights before. Everything. From the first night through to the wedding, and everything that led to New Year’s Eve. She’d called me right after, and I was shocked when she didn’t seem too upset. She’d admitted she was relieved. Even though they weren’t exactly impressed with how much she’d kept to herself and how she’d treated Grant, they couldn’t argue with her not being in love with him. They supported and comforted her, saying that if her heart wasn’t there, then it just wasn’t. They invited her to stay at their house until she got it all figured out.
