Book Three - A Codependent Love Story (Zelda's World 3)

by Paloma Meir

  “Serge,” She jumped up and hugged my stiff body, “I’m sorry... I didn’t mean it. It’s Zelda. She was always...”

  “I don’t want to talk about her, or any of it, okay?” I kissed the top of her head. “I did love you, but you’re right. I didn’t know how much until now. I’m sorry you sensed my distraction. It was a hard time. No matter what you think I did for you, you did more for me.”

  “That’s not true... and you never talked about it, ever. You gave me the facts. You never discussed it with me or anyone else. I should have forced you. I let you down, but you never let me down. Your mother, Zelda and that girlfriend...”

  “Come here.” We sat back down on the bed. “It’s all fine. There’s nothing to talk about now or then. What happened, happened.” Overcome with emotion, I found myself touching her face, kissing her nose, an overwhelming desire to hold her.

  “No these things stay with you. They shape who you are.”

  “You’ve lived in that hippie town too long.” I pulled her up onto my lap, “You’re beautiful Marianne.”

  “I’m not going to let you get away with it this time. Growing up with an alcoholic mother...”

  “Was hard, but she’s been sober for twelve years now.” I tried to kiss her, but she wasn’t having it. “You just told me how smart you were. If that’s true than why can’t you see that you were my rock? That being with you was enough? Forget about “fixing” you. You sound like Danny when you say that, cars get fixed, people heal. Your warm nature healed me. Why can’t you see that?”

  “Because of her.” She reached out for the magazine, and I stopped her again.

  “That is just you being jealous, but I do like it.” Her mood lightened as I laughed.

  “You like it? Good because I own you.” She laughed and let me kiss her “Really Serge, what do those letters mean? I won’t get upset, I promise.”

  “You want the truth? Okay.” I plowed through my embarrassment. “She’s my friend, but ever since she sent me that magazine, I’ve wanted to fuck her, really go at her, really go deep with it.” I don’t know if my face was red, but it felt that way. “It’s carnal, not romantic, and it’s never going to happen because she’s my friend, and that’s what’s important, and never going to change.”

  “Wow, that was very honest.” She looked a little shocked, but then smiled.

  “You like that? You want some more honesty? After dinner tonight? I’m going to fuck you, no sleep for you, all night long Marianne.”

  “Can we skip dinner then?” she asked as Danny knocked on the door and entered at the same time, apologizing for running late, telling us we had to leave.

  …

  “Hey Danny” I said as I strapped Marianne into the seat next to mine in the backseat of his car, “Marianne and me, we’re back together. We’re going to try a long distance relationship.” I pulled her close to me and kissed her pretty face. Happy, joyous and free is how I felt.

  “We’re going to be mutually exclusive again,” she giggled and nestled her head onto my shoulder.

  Zelda always it hated when you said that, I thought but did not say for the benefit of the two of them. “Mutually exclusive...” I repeated back the words, our decision seemed off. “We’ll go back and forth.” I paused but pushed through, “I think I will call you Pookie.” I said in an attempt to recreate the cheerfulness that was fading.

  “And I will call you, Wookie.” She laughed and looked at me without a shadow of the concerns that were growing in my mind.

  “Pookie and Wookie. Tight bro.” Danny said as we pulled out of the driveway.

  “I love you, Pookie.” I cooed in her ear, “I’ll drive up Friday, okay.” I rationalized in my mind. My reluctance was from being unused to be in a committed relationship. She did make me happy. I did feel my best with her. I focused on that.

  We lovingly chattered all the way up the coast, my doubts fading.

  As we approached Hollywood, I turned to Danny, remembering that he was in fact in the car and had been with us the whole time, overhearing the most saccharine sweet words of our reclaimed “love." I caught sight of him in the rearview mirror. His eyes were dead, the dull glint of the bright blue a little menacing. His expression was tight, a tinge of bitterness around his mouth.

  “Danny,” I wanted to shake him out of his dark reverie but didn’t know what to say.

  “Huh?” His quick smile came back, his face brightened. The sudden change was chilling.

  “Let’s make a plan. My house first, then you go down to your parents for dinner. Marianne and I will walk down to yours, and spend some time with your family. Head home? Good?”

  “Good plan bro.”

  It wasn’t a good plan for my friend who always had so many plans. I couldn’t imagine a worse evening for him.

  My mother came to the door, exuberantly happy saying Carolina would be coming home for the winter holidays. She took Danny’s hand and led him into the house. Marianne and I followed, my arm around her the whole time.

  Our living room was packed, mostly with the flock of young woman my mother guided through the AA program, but some had brought their boyfriends. The beauty of the women was a condensed version of Malibu on a summer day. The tall, willowy blondes turned and noticed my handsome manly man of a roommate and whispered to each other about him. I watched as some of the braver ones approached him and my mother. He politely ignored what had always been his narrowly defined “type”.

  Marianne’s mother came out of the kitchen holding a bowl of mashed potatoes. My father followed with the large golden turkey on a silver platter. Her mother practically dropped the bowl at the sight of her daughter whom she hadn’t seen in months.

  Marianne dragged me across the room to greet her mother, but my eyes stayed on my Mother and Danny. I managed to make the polite exchange of words as expected while glancing their way. My mother spoke to him in an animated way. I saw his expression harden. I excused myself and walked across the room to where they stood talking.

  “I’ll make a lunch for her. Invite all of her old friends, and of course your mother and father.” I heard my mother say as I joined them.

  “Are we having a party for Carolina?” I asked.

  “Your sister wouldn’t want that, Serge," She laughed and ran her hand up my arm, “Zelda’s coming home in the New Year.”

  “Thanks, Mrs. Richmond, but no. I can’t make it. Tearing down the house.” He looked over at me, “Where are we going to go?” Back to my mother, “Sarah’s on call a lot of the time, hard to make plans.”

  “I’m going to walk Danny down to his house, Mom” I gave her a kiss on the cheek, “Come on, let’s go,” I gestured my head towards the front door.

  “Okay Serge,” She looked over to me questioningly, “Be back soon. Your father is proud of his turkey.”

  “Love you, Mom.”

  He was silent as we walked down the canyon road, tense enough that I missed the brooding melancholy of when I had first moved in with him.

  “Dude she’s a bomb, fucking destructive.” He came to a stop as we passed her house, and turned to look at the window he had climbed in and out of so many times. “Fucking poisonous gas, she’s left behind. She’s everywhere. She’s Hiroshima.”

  “Dude, wake-up, you’re looking at her house. Remember, she was a sweet kid.” I wanted to grab him and shake some sense into him. “She’s not a nuclear bomb, and you’re not a poet. Good metaphors though, I’ll give you that.”

  “Was she a sweet kid? Buddy, I can’t even remember.” We turned away from her house and continued down the street.

  “Why don’t you just read her letter? Maybe it will give you some closure.”

  “Be her pen pal? Like you? Like my mom? No thanks,” Anger flared in his words. “Vain, selfish... I’m not going to get caught up in that again. She thinks she can fly in and fuck me when things aren’t good for her? Fuck her pain away. No.”

  “Your cock is a healing stick? She flew in for y
ou bro. Get a grip.”

  “Healing stick, yes.” He laughed more than necessary, “It’s Thanksgiving, Serge. I’ve got you, Sarah, my family, I'm grateful for my good life. Forget about her. You know what? I hope she’s having a good day, sucking down foie gras, playing with that baby, okay? We good?”

  “You and me and our curative posts, because mine’s not a stick, not yours either. We’re good.” I patted him on the shoulder as we stood in front of his parent's house and felt pretty good about ending his “I hate Zelda” days.

  “More like cannons, am I right?”

  I was about to one up him by saying battleships but his mother opened the door to let us in.

  “Danny, Serge come in,” She held a glass of wine in one hand and hugged her son with the other, “So sorry Sarah couldn’t make it. She’s coming back tomorrow? Brian is going to make a feast with the leftovers. The two of you must come for dinner tomorrow night, you too Serge.” She released her son, and we saw she wore one of Zelda’s long scarves around her neck, the long ends almost trailing to the floor with the fading sun highlighting the gold embroidery that looked like stars.

  “Love you too, Mom. Where’s Dad?” The stiffness was back in his voice. He walked past her into the house muttering again about poisonous gasses.

  Back up at my house, I sat next to Marianne, my arm around her the entire dinner, sharing food, feeding each other. I ignored the overly personal conversation I had come to expect when dining with my mother and her flock of recovering girls and women. I tried to speak to my dad a few times. The conversation was stilted, full of long silences. His turkey was good though.

  I grabbed Marianne away from her mother after dinner promising that we would have lunch with her the next day. That would be a lie. We ran down to Danny’s house with Marianne laughing at my eagerness to get her home.

  I opened the door and scanned the room and nodded at the elderly more sedate guests in the Goldberg’s home. I saw Danny on his bended knees sitting in front of his father on the long sofa in their living room. It looked like he was trying to calm him.

  I shook off my impatience as I approached, took a deep breath, and squeezed Marianne’s hand. “Happy Thanksgiving, Mr. Goldberg.”

  “Serge, could you stay with him a minute?” Danny stood up, “I need to find my Mom, get my Dad a sedative. He’s not doing too well tonight.”

  “Sure Danny,” I sat down on the sofa beside his father as he headed into the kitchen, “You remember Marianne, Mr. Goldberg.” I realized I was speaking too loudly as if it were his hearing that was the problem, and not his mobility, confusion and speech problems.

  “You’re a good boy, Serge. You and Danny were always good boys.” His withered grey hand landed on mine with a halfhearted pat.

  “Danny... not good... anymore. He won’t tell me...”

  “Danny’s great, Mr. Goldberg,” Marianne leaned over me and said in an overly cheerful voice, “It’s good to see you again, hello.” She held her hand up with a playful wave.

  “You’re not Zelda. Zelda... told me... she had a baby. Where is the baby?” I didn’t know whether to help him or restrain him as he moved around on the seat cushion trying to stand up, and I guess find Zelda’s baby.

  “Serge thank you,” Mrs. Goldberg said as she sat down in front of him.

  “Joyce, why are you hiding the baby?” He asked as she put a pill in his mouth and held up a glass of water to his lips.

  “Shush Herb. She’s in Paris with her daughter. You know that darling.”

  “He’s been like this all night.” I looked up to find Danny standing above us with his arms crossed.

  “Danny, could you help me get him to his room?” She leaned down and tried to pick him up.

  “Let me help, Mrs. Goldberg.” I disentangled myself from Marianne and stood beside Danny.

  “It’s a very special baby.” He kept saying over and over again as the three of us led him to his new room that had once been in the study on the ground floor.

  We laid him out on the bed that wasn’t any different from the one he had in the hospital. He immediately quieted down. Danny and his mother wiped him with warm washcloths, changing him out of his clothes, and into his pajamas. The two of them talked the whole time about dinner and appointments for the following week, as if this were a common part of their life.

  I went outside into the hallway with Marianne when they took off his pants and revealed the adult diapers that the once spry and charismatic man now wore. We waited patiently for Danny. We didn’t speak because what was there to say about the utter fragility of life? He came outside a few minutes later and nodded his head for us to follow him out to the car. The walk back up to my parent’s house was a quiet, one with Marianne and I not knowing what to say.

  He spoke non-stop on the drive home. A discourse on the greatness of Sarah, how unselfish she was, how level headed and dependable. She was a true person in his eyes. I knew in his mind, he was comparing and contrasting her with Zelda, putting negative qualities to her where none existed. But after his not so great Thanksgiving dinner, I wasn’t going to argue his points.

  …

  Into the house we tumbled, tired from the food, and overwhelmed emotionally. After a quick goodnight, I led Marianne into my room. I looked over at the pile of letters and magazines I hadn’t put away before leaving. My tiredness turned to sleepiness. I pulled Marianne into my bed wrapped myself around her and fell asleep.

  It continued that way. I kept her busy, very busy, but the passion that usually consumed us went unconsummated that weekend. I couldn’t keep my hands off of her, but it was affection. I couldn’t get enough of her, but the sex wasn’t in me. I even bought her a wetsuit and her very own surfboard, spending more at one time than I had ever done in my life. It wasn’t on sale either.

  I woke up early Sunday morning, the day she was to leave and laid next to her watching the beauty of her sleep. I felt a great love for her, but the origin of it, the meaning of it, confused me. I ran my hand across her melon-like breasts, but thought better of it and went into the shower instead.

  I walked her out to our driveway after our hearty breakfast of leftovers my mother had packed for us. “I’ll leave early Friday morning, and be at your place when you get back from school.” As I spoke, I knew I didn’t want to drive up the following weekend. I barely saw Danny as it was, with him being so busy and adult-like. The weekends were our time together to surf all day, run up the beach, speak our bro language to each other. I didn’t want to give that up. He was my other half, my best friend. “You know...”

  I didn’t know what I meant to say. I thought of the women up and down the beach. The ones that were primarily my friends. I knew I could let go of the physical relationships without a problem, but would I be able to talk to them? Leah up the road was working on her grad school applications, and I had promised to help. Gretchen, the waitress at Coogie's had broken up with her boyfriend and was inconsolable, and a half dozen others that would call me late at night to discuss whatever went on inside their messy heads.

  “Serge, I have a date Friday night...”

  “What?” I released my hold on her and took a step back.

  “Do you have to look so relieved? I’m breaking up with you.”

  “Oh.” I ran my hand through my dreadlocks. “I don’t know what that means Marianne.”

  “It means we really are just friends this time.” She held my face in her hands, “I love you, but it’s time for me to let you go.”

  “I understand.” I didn’t understand. I did feel relief, but not that much. 'Unmoored' is what I felt.

  “Will you do something for me?”

  “Yes, of course.” I nodded my head and shook her hands away.

  “Will you consider the possibility that friendship with attraction... that’s confusing... how did you say it? Really go at it, go deep? Is that what you said?” She shook her head with a large exhale of breath. “Do something for yourself for once in your lif
e. You could never hurt her. You love her.”

  “This is because of Zelda? You are so wrong. If you want to end everything fine, but do it for the right reason.” If it were possible to be angry with her, then I was.

  “I’m doing this as much for you as me.”

  “I’ve heard those words before.” I turned towards the door and walked away. “Good-bye Marianne.”

  “If you need to be mad at me, fine, but consider what I said Serge... and I’m not Celena. I’ll call you when I get home.”

  “If that’s what you need to do.” I slammed the front door behind me and heard echoes of her saying that, yes that was what she needed to do.