by Belle Brooks
“Yes.”
“I’ll go. Sorry.” He must sense my discomfort.
“Don’t.” I turn quickly on my heel, and for the first time in just under two years our eyes lock, his brown and my green. “Hi.” Shocked, I take in his musky cologne and formal business attire. Black suit, lilac tie.
Mike looks good, like someone returning from a Hawaiian holiday, bronzed and primed. It dawns on me that I look atrocious in comparison when I see my reflection in the reflective tiles behind him. Ground, swallow me whole.
“So,” he mumbles, reaching his hand up to the back of his neck.
“So,” I reply just as uncomfortable.
“It was good to see you again. Take care, Abigail.” He turns and steps away.
“Take care.” My voice fades as I face the counter once more and all our memories come flooding back at once.
A light tap on my shoulder causes me to startle before spinning back around.
“Sorry to bother you again, but would you like to have a coffee…no, hang on, you don’t drink coffee. Umm, would you like to talk…or something, at a table with me?”
“Okay.” What are you doing, Abigail?
We stand there, neither of us moving.
“I’ll choose a table then,” he says, gripping the back of his neck with his hand for the second time.
“Okay.”
“There.” He points with his index finger in the direction of a set-up for two only a few metres away.
“Yep.” I hesitate before slowly moving towards his selection.
Mike looks at me with an uncomfortable half-smile.
I can’t do this.
Stopping, his face tenses…his eyes now stone cold.
“I’ll just grab a jug of water. I’ve been exercising and I’m thirsty.” My heart thumps erratically.
“Of course. Would you mind grabbing a glass for me?”
“No, that’s fine. One glass for you.” When I get to the counter, the ladies who were previously waiting are gone. I push my palms against the surface and lift my feet until I’m standing on my sneakers’ toes. Pressing my weight into my arms, I mouth the letters S.H.I.T. Looking down, I see my reflection in the counter’s shiny surface. “Frick,” I spit under my breath. I really look like shit. Running my hands through my locks, I try hard to tame its frizz. I’m startled when a youthful and soft voice asks me what I would like.
“Water. Actually, do you sell scotch?”
Her brows furrow.
Don’t you judge me, you stupid cow.
“We’re not a licensed venue for alcohol. Sorry.”
Of course you’re not. “Just water then, please.” I probably would have just thrown alcohol right back up if I drank it anyway.
She turns sharply and removes a jug out of a fridge to her right. The tinging of glasses as she gathers two for me causes annoyance. Why now? Why Mike?
“Can I get you anything else?”
“No, thanks.”
Mike’s back is to me as I slowly approach.
“Water.” I place the glasses beside each other in the upright position before lowering the jug and slipping into a seat across from him. The sound of water glugging has my eyes flicking upwards.
Mike lowers the jug, and I notice both glasses are filled just under the lip. He poured my drink, just like he always did. The only thought coursing through me now is why? Why did Mike leave me? Now’s my chance to ask.
We sit in uncomfortable silence. Mike’s eyes stay downwards and I sit staring at his hairline. He’s really here.
“Abigail, I’m sorry.” He blurts these three words out fast like he’s been dying to say them the entire time.
“Okay.”
“I…I…well, what I’m trying to say is—”
“It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything. It’s done and over with and was a long time ago now.”
“Yeah.” His shoulders sit high to his ears, but his eyes are sincere.
“Anyway, you’re getting married. Congratulations.” I swallow hard as a ball of cement invades my throat.
“Thanks.”
“Why?” I spit out against my better judgement.
“Why?” he says back to me through a flinching jaw.
“Ummm…” Ask him, Abigail. Why did he leave you? It’s now or never. “Mike, why don’t we get something to eat? I’m really hungry. Exercising does that and it’s near lunch.”
The corners of his lips curl upwards. “I never picked you to turn into the exercise and gym type, but here you are. You look good, by the way.”
“Thank you. I’m just trying it on for size. See if it fits, you know?” What’s he talking about? I look like I’ve been run over by a bus, then it reversed and ran over me again.
“Yeah, I do. I hit the gym a lot after you and I—” He stops, and his face pales.
“It’s okay,” I reassure him, even though this is not okay and now I’ve asked him to dine with me and I don’t actually want to dine with him…I couldn’t ask him why…I had to deflect and come up with something. Oh, gosh, I suffer.
“I’m sorry. I can’t do lunch. I’m meeting someone elsewhere, but feel free to order for yourself.”
Ground, again, please swallow me whole.
“No, I understand. Actually I might go. I’ll have lunch at home. It was nice seeing you. Take care, okay? And happy nuptials to you.” I stand, taking a step from the table.
“They’re this Saturday…it came around fast,” he admits.
Instant panic begins to rush through my limbs, my head spins, and I become nauseous as waves of heat overtake me. I think I’m going to pass out.
Forgiveness
“Abigail, are you okay? Oh, shit.” Mike catches me as I crumble.
I manage to maintain consciousness.
“What just happened? Are you sick?” he asks, holding my head to his chest. The sound of his beating heart is rapid. I can sense his sudden fear.
“You could say that. Please let me go. I’m okay now. This happens sometimes.”
Releasing his tight hold, he clutches onto my arms as our bodies part. “How sick are you, Abigail? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. No, it’s nothing like that. I’m okay, really.”
He blows out a breath of air through pursed lips. “Oh, thank God—Abigail, I couldn’t bear to think…I’m so glad you’re—” He’s having trouble finding the words. “I still love you. I have never stopped loving you, you know.”
These words cut like a surgical knife through my heart. Mike can’t say this after such a long time. He doesn’t even know me anymore. I shake my arms free and I know I’m scowling. We stand now, completely unattached, staring at one another, unsure of what to do next.
“Mike, darling, are you ready to go now?” a woman’s voice asks to my turned back.
I twist immediately. Long blond curly locks…pretty peacock blue eyes and a full-lipped lady in a lilac cocktail dress stands a short distance away.
“Yes, Mon, just give me one more second.”
I automatically begin drifting. My body hovers above my feet, or so it feels, as I pass his future bride, who until today I’ve never seen in the flesh. This hovering sensation lasts until I reach Bertha in the car park.
My life just keeps getting shittier by the second.
***
A door opens wide as tears drip from my chin. I don’t see anything through my hazy sight.
“Abi. Oh, Abi.” Sammy’s arms yank me to her chest. “I’ve missed you. Oh, I’m so glad you’re here.”
“I can’t keep doing this,” I confess because I really can’t. I’m over feeling completely out of control and broken.
“Okay, sweetheart. It’s going to be okay.” Her tone is emphatic, as the sound of the door closes behind me, and arms wrap me tightly in a much needed safety net.
The comfort of the soft lounge I’m helped to sit on supplies relief as the arm of my best friend drapes around my shoulders.
“I saw Mike,�
�� I spit angrily, my tears now all but dried.
“What?” Sammy gasps. Her hand presses against her mouth momentarily. “When? Where? Why?” The wide stare she now displays only amplifies my anger.
“It happened out of the blue. I went to our coffee house and he was there. We talked…he said he loves me and he has always loved me, Sammy. He’s not allowed to say that. Why would he say that?”
“Because he’s a fucking prick, that’s why. I’m going to strangle that man, I swear.” Her eyes burn with a searing heat. Sammy’s just as angry as me.
“I saw her, too.”
“Monique?”
“Yes.”
Sammy’s mouth forms an exaggerated ‘O’, but no sound comes out.
“I want to un-see her. How do I un-see her?”
“You can’t,” her voice croaks as her eyes fill with pity.
How I hate pity.
“I need help, Sammy, lots of help. I don’t want to live like this anymore. I can’t live like this anymore.”
“Sshh. It’s okay. You’ll get over any hurdle tossed in your way. I just know you can. We’ll get you help. I’ll be right by your side. Together, Abigail, we can do this together.”
My head tucks between her shoulder and chin. I nestle contentedly into her neck. “I’m so exhausted.”
“I know, sweetie. I know you are. You have to stop scaring me. Gosh, you looked awful in the hospital…why did you do that to yourself?” Sammy doesn’t allow a reply. “I know the whole Marcus situation is a lot for you, but why do that?”
I shake my head and try to answer. Sammy again doesn’t allow it, continuing speaking.
“You should have just answered my calls or at least answered the door when I came around. Please stop shutting me out.” She sucks a noisy breath of air into her lungs.
I wait to see if she has more to say before answering. “Are you finished?”
“Yes.”
“Sammy, you know why I needed you to stay away…hang on, you were at the hospital?” I jerk myself away from her.
“Of course I was. Mrs. M called to say you’d drunk too much again and were sleeping it off. Of course I came to make sure you were still breathing. I left before you woke because I didn’t think me being there would help.”
“It wouldn’t have.”
“I know.” Sammy’s head drops and her hands rub up and down the tops of her legs.
“I love you, Ginger. You’re my girl and my best friend. You shouldn’t have lied to me about this. You shouldn’t have betrayed me.”
“I had to protect you. I wish you could see that this came from a good place, from a pure heart. If it makes you feel any better, I’m really mad at myself.”
“It still hurts. Like a punch to the guts, you know?”
Sammy stands upright. “Let’s not talk about this now. Let’s get you freshened up and resting, hey?”
I find myself nodding. I stink and I’m sweating profusely.
Sammy fills the bath with coconut bubble wash and Epsom salts from a yellow packet I see in her hand as I enter the bathroom.
“Go on, get your kit off.”
I do.
The warm water and the popping of the salts against my skin have me slinking down until only my chin and head pokes out above the bubbled foam.
“I’ll wash your hair. It will make you feel ten times better.” Sammy kneels down beside the tub.
I barely nod. I’m completely depleted.
In a matter of minutes, Sammy’s long fingers knead my scalp, sending tingles to coat the skin between bone and hair. The pressure she’s applying is exactly what I need.
“Oh, that feels good,” I breathe.
“I bet it does.”
“Hey, why aren’t you at work? Isn’t it Monday?”
There’s a pause. “I have lots of annual leave, so I asked for this week off. My headaches have been quite bad and I really needed a break.”
“I’m sorry. I’ve caused you so much grief.”
“No, it’s not your fault. It’s my own. I just needed a week off, that’s all. Jackson is away until Thursday and I didn’t feel much like working.”
“Where is Mosby?”
“He’s in Canberra.”
“What does he do for work…actually, how do I not know what he does?”
“He’s a crewman. A camera man, remember? He’s away covering some political stuff. He’s freelance.”
“Oh, I did know that. Temporary lapse of memory.” I laugh. God knows I’ve been suffering memory loss to its extreme.
“Anyway, let’s not talk about me. We have to focus on how we are going to get you out of this rut you’re in and turn you back into the Abigail we all know and love.”
“You can talk to me, Ginger. I’m your Dorothy. Is everything okay between you and Jackson?”
“I know I can. We’re fine. That boy worships the ground I walk on and I know it…anyway, Mike?”
I sigh. “Mosby really loves you.”
“That he does, the same way—” She stops talking. “Anyway, Mike?”
I know she was planning to say Marcus’ name but let it drop, allowing the conversation to go back to Mike. “Can you believe that pig?” I lay my head back, just as my heavy eyes close from the pleasure of Sammy’s fingers working their magic through my hair.
“No. He’d have to know those words would still hurt you.”
“Well, I guess he didn’t care if they did. He’s so selfish.”
“Obviously.”
The room goes quiet. The only sound I can hear is Sammy’s fingers moving across my head.
“Go on, slip down under the water and wash the shampoo out.”
I do.
With my head fully submerged, I realise how much I need Sammy in my life and regardless of what’s happened, I’m never going to survive this without her. When I resurface, I wipe the water beads from my eyelids before sitting with my knees against my chest, tucking them under my chin. “I forgive you, Sammy,” I say truthfully.
“Thank you.” Sammy’s fingertips stroke up and down my spine with a tickle. “You will get through this, babe. We’re going to do this together. You and I can get through anything and everything if we stick together.” Her touch leaves my back as I hear the sound of liquid being squeezed from an emptying bottle. Pressure filled fingertips rub into my scalp once more and I allow my chin to stay rested to my knees.
“I will get through this.” Words meant to be only spoken in my head escape my mouth.
“You will.”
***
“What are you going to do about Mike now?” Sammy pulls Bertha up in front of my house.
“I guess, never speak to him again. I can’t deal with what he has to say now, anyway.”
“Did you ask him why, Abigail?” Sammy puts the car into park and reefs up the handbrake.
“I went to, but I couldn’t do it. I guess I don’t want to know the answer after all.”
“True.”
One word that personifies how I really feel in my heart. So if that’s the case, why am I so out of control?
As we enter through the open door, I call out to Mum, letting her know I’m back.
“I’m glad, petal. I’ll be down in a minute. I’m just taking a call,” she yells out with happiness in her tone. The direction her voice is coming from is the upstairs level.
“No hurry.”
Sammy has an overnight bag in her hand. We agreed it would be best for her to stay with me for at least the next couple of days while I try to sort out the pile of cow dung that is my current situation. Sammy slips off to the spare room to stash her bag, while I take refuge on the couch and pull Mum’s blanket over my legs. The air conditioning is set to freezing, just the way I like it.
“Dorothy, have you rung Marcus yet?”
Her question surprises me as I wasn’t ready for her to ask it in such a casual manner. Sammy sits down by my stretched out feet. “Are you going to share that blanket? It’s freezing
in here.”
“Sure.” I roll my eyes.
Sammy slaps my feet. “Don’t roll those big greens at me.”
I scoff.
“Well, Marcus. What is happening with the two of you now?” Sammy yanks the blanket across her lap before lifting my feet and placing them across her lap too.
“I have no idea.” I take a moment to think about Marcus. His perfect face, his perfect smile, and his alluring voice. “I think I might like him, Ginger.”
She laughs.
“What’s funny?”
“Of course you like him, silly. The question is, do you still love him?”
The air becomes stale.
How can I know if I still love him if I can’t actually fully remember loving him in the first place?
“I don’t know,” I mumble.
Slumber Party
Tuesday night I’m having a night in with the girls. Well, this is what Sammy’s calling our evening. Once she even referred to it as a slumber party, much to my horror. Hello, we’re not in grade school. Grow the hell up already. Apparently, tonight is the first step of my healing process. Sammy has everything planned and repeats regularly, “You need to surround yourself with the people who care and want to help you make a difference in your life. You’ll see. This is going to work wonders.”
Something tells me she needs the company much more than I do.
Taking a moment to look at my phone while I’m alone in my bedroom, I see that the memory is again overloaded with missed calls and messages.
“Your message bank is full,” says the automotive voice response.
Great!
Marcus should have arrived home by now because it’s Tuesday night and the two of us were booked to fly out on Sunday at the latest. I hope that Stephanie’s case had the happy ending it deserved, and Marcus made it through with his heart spared from bruises. I wonder if he got the closure he seemed to be searching for, or was it the closure he needed? I sit balanced on the edge of my bed, remembering the promise I made to Grady when I left—the one that meant zero contact with Marcus until it’s the right time to do so…I guess that’s exactly what I’m doing, keeping my promise. Maybe I’m no better than Sammy, Mum, and Marcus. After all, I am trying to protect him and do the right thing, just like they were trying to do for me.
