by B. N. Toler
Kegs and I were walking down the hall, arguing over which of Ryan Reynold’s wives was hotter, his ex, Scarlett Johansen, or his current wife, Blake Lively. I myself was for Scarlett because she had that whole Avengers thing going for her, but Kegs was a Blake fan because he loved that movie Savages.
It was a dumb conversation; one we were only having to laugh about. Because if you couldn’t piss away time with your friends, then with who? I saw Henry approaching us, but I continued listing off Scarlett’s many attributes, deciding to ignore him. Talking to him would only lead to trouble.
But Henry couldn’t just pass by and let things be. There was plenty of room for him to walk by us without touching me, but he decided to jam his shoulder into my arm just to be a dick, then kept walking.
“Didn’t see you there, Marner,” he mumbled. After the past few months, this was the last straw. This guy had disrespected me, taken me off the schedule in an attempt to hurt me financially, and now he thought I was going to continue to deal with this shit?
“Henry,” I yelled as I spun around. “Let’s meet out by the woodline. Right now.”
He turned to face me, a smirk on his face. Probably hoping to give me my second suspension. At that moment, Van, Duke, and one other instructor walked into the hallway from the chow hall and stopped when they saw us in what appeared to be a standoff.
“What’s going on?” Van asked, removing his glasses. I was sure the old man was tired of our shit, but so was I.
“I just challenged Henry to meet me out by the woodline.” There was no point in lying. Henry would tattle on me anyway. Van lifted his brows and sighed as he glanced between us. He knew the animosity between us, and I could tell even he wanted it to end.
“He needs to be written up for insubordination, Van,” Henry piped out. “I’m tired of his attitude and harassment. It’s not good for employee morale.”
Van nodded a few times, crossing his arms as he looked at us. Duke, Kegs, and the other instructor Brian, all waited patiently. There was a good possibility I was about to be off the schedule indefinitely, and momentarily I scolded myself internally. I shouldn’t have said that to Henry. I’d let my temper get the best of me, but the guy needed his ass beat. There was just nothing else to it.
“If you go outside the fence line, you’re no longer on company property.”
Everyone’s eyes widened to saucers, and Kegs and Duke started to grin. Van just basically gave us the okay to fight each other.
If our eyes were wide with excitement, Henry’s almost bulged out of his head. “You know this is against policy,” he sputtered to Van. “I could sue you for this.”
Van shrugged and looked around at us. “Did anyone here hear me say anything about encouraging two employees to fight?”
All of us unanimously shook our heads no. “No,” we all lied out loud. Henry had no backup. Van walked toward Henry and put a hand on his shoulder.
“Henry. When two men always butt heads, sometimes there’s only one way to sort it out. You can decline his challenge and wear the weight of that shame, or you can go out there and do your best to beat the shit out of him. Either way, I want this bullshit between you two done. He’s one of our best instructors, and I want him on the schedule. Figure it out once and for all. No one is being suspended today. So put up, or shut up.”
With that, he walked away and left us to figure it out. Kegs held a fist to his mouth, barely able to contain his excitement. I tried not to chuckle at his thrill at all this.
Henry flattened his mouth. What could he do? If he walked, everyone would know what a chickenshit he was. He’d lose respect.
“All right, Marner,” he grumbled. “I guess now’s as good a time as any.”
Adrenaline rushed through me. The tension between Henry and I and the lingering hurt I felt about Hannah was just the right concoction to get me amped for a fight. I knew I should not be this excited about fighting someone, but I felt like a kid about to ride the biggest and baddest new rollercoaster out there. I would enjoy every second of this way too much.
“You fail only if you stop writing.”
-Ray Bradbury
The Comeback Kid was at a standstill, as were Alex and Katrina. My beautiful characters stood within the pages of my WIP holding their hands up in front of them much like Ricky Bobby from Talladega Nights did, unsure of what to do with them.
I had spent the last couple months leeching the story from myself, but the ending would not come. If I had to, I could put something down, but it wouldn’t feel real to me, and I knew I would let my readers down. A part of me knew my inability to finish the story had to do with Wren, but not so much because I’d lost him as my muse. More because I couldn’t let him go. So many times I’d wanted to go to him and try to fix things, but I couldn’t. I knew I hadn’t changed enough, though I was trying. I hadn’t necessarily made leaps and bounds, but I had taken steps. I bought a couch off of Craigslist and a desk and chair for me to work at. I also started making repairs to my home. Someday I would sell it. Someday I would move on. These were little things, but I was doing something. I resumed writing my positive reminders to myself, shaking the self-loathing ones I’d given into for a time. I was getting better, day by day.
It was a Thursday evening when I decided to stop by Deanna’s on my way home and drop off the baby clothes Taz and Laney had left for me at the office to give to Deanna. Heaving the massive black trash bag of clothing over my shoulder, I trudged up her porch steps and was just about to ring the doorbell when I heard shouting. With my hand frozen in midair, I listened. It was Deanna and Allen…arguing. I frowned as I listened, unable to make out what they were saying, but able to hear the emotion in Deanna’s voice. She was crying. Shit. I needed to go. I was eavesdropping. Plopping the bag by the door, I was about to turn and dash back to my car when the front door opened. Allen stood just inside, but hadn’t seen me because he was still facing Deanna, yelling.
“I have to go. Don’t you understand? I’ve been working my ass off for this promotion.”
I could just make out Deanna over his shoulder some ways down the hall, wiping at her face. When her gaze flicked to me, her head jerked slightly. “Hannah,” she rasped, emotion thick in her tone.
Allen whipped his head around, eyes wide. “Oh, Hannah.” He shook his head, seemingly embarrassed I’d just witnessed them fighting, and he hadn’t even realized I was there. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there.” He was dressed in a pair of freshly pressed slacks and a blue button-down shirt that made his eyes blaze. His face was reddened somewhat, maybe from the heat of their fight, or maybe humiliation that I’d heard it, I wasn’t sure. I wanted to be anywhere but here right now.
“Yeah,” I managed awkwardly after a beat, pressing on a smile, hoping to appear clueless to the fact that they’d been arguing. “Taz and Laney gave me this bag of baby clothes from the boys to give to you. I was just dropping it off on my way home. I’ll be going now.”
Allen dropped his head, then lifted it, his brow quirked as if something had just occurred to him. “Hannah could go with you,” he said as he looked over his shoulder at Deanna who was only a few feet behind him now. Her eyes were puffy and she was sniffling a little.
“Go where?” I asked, frowning in confusion.
“We had a long weekend planned at a bed and breakfast in Charlottesville,” Deanna explained. “But Allen’s boss asked him to go to Texas, and Allen told him yes.”
I tightened my mouth, fighting the wince I wanted to make. I knew Deanna had been struggling with Allen being gone so much for work and with the fact when he was home he wouldn’t make love to her. For the last few months it seemed Allen was around less and less. She was feeling forgotten; abandoned. Allen looked to me, his eyes pleading with me to understand and help him out as he spoke.
“Hannah. I’ve worked so hard for this promotion. I’m so close. If I get it, I won’t have to travel as much and with the baby coming that’s a big deal.”
Moving my gaze back and forth between them, I bit my lip as they stared back at me. Were they wanting me to weigh in? Oh boy, this wasn’t going to be good. I could see both sides of this and neither was more wrong or right than the other. But Deanna was one of my best friends, and friendship rules told me I had to side with my friend, no matter what. I would’ve staked my life on it that it was written in the Bible somewhere.
“He’s not coming,” Deanna told me before I could voice my loyalty. Her steady voice was laced with frustration. She had noticed the look on my face and didn’t want me wasting my time worrying about what to say. “So,” she inhaled deeply, “girls’ weekend?” She was breaking my heart. I wasn’t who she really wanted there, but it was better than going alone.
Allen met my gaze again, a pleading stare. I wanted to smack him, even though I loved him dearly, and demand he stop asking me for favors with his eyes. What a shitty situation. He was practically begging me to go to get him off the hook, like I wouldn’t go anyway. My girl needed some time away, and the one person she wanted it with was leaving her for work. If I could, in any way, offer myself and my time as a consolation and make her feel better, of course I would.
I gave Deanna a faint smile, letting her know I knew she was disappointed but I was here. “I’d love a weekend with my bestie.”
Allen’s body practically deflated as he let out a long exhale. “Well, that worked out well,” he sighed. He clapped his hands once, as he amped us up like we were about to go play a game of football. Looking to Deanna, she cut her eyes to me in a way that said she was beyond pissed with her husband. Allen took her by the shoulders and kissed her chastely on the cheek before meeting her gaze. “I’m doing this for us. I hope you know that.”
Tilting her head down, she responded, “Have a safe trip.”
Allen watched her for a moment, knowing she wasn’t okay, that this wasn’t okay, but he didn’t question it any further. In his mind, he had to go. Dropping to one knee, he kissed her belly. “Bye, little guy. Daddy will be home soon. Be good for Mommy.” They still didn’t know if it was a boy or a girl, but Allen always called the baby ‘little guy.’ When he stood, he took Deanna’s hand and kissed it, still staring at her with affection. She didn’t look up. Again, I saw it, that moment where he knew he should stop, take more time to work this out with her, not leave until they were on better terms, but he didn’t. Turning to me, he gave my cheek a quick peck. “Take care of my girl,” he murmured. “My little one, too.”
Quirking my mouth, I met his gaze and took a cue from him and communicated with my eyes, telling him how much he sucked with my stare. He frowned and bobbed his head once. He’d read my message loud and clear. But still…he left. Apparently, his suitcase was already in the car because he walked out farther on the porch and down the stairs toward the driveway. Glancing back to Deanna, I was prepared to hug her, listen to her cry or yell, but she inhaled deeply and pressed on her perfect Deanna smile and brushed at her dress as if something was on it, even though there wasn’t.
“Coffee?” she chirped as she spun and went to the kitchen.
Okay, so she didn’t want to talk about it. Message received.
I didn’t press. It seemed she needed to move on from it, and the best I could do was help her in any way I could. “Well, a weekend away sounds amazing,” I announced as I followed her. “What should I pack?”
We’d called Courtney and Kate to invite them as well, but neither could make it because they’d already made family plans for the weekend. So after a quick stop at my house so I could pack, we traveled up to Charlottesville. Antiquing wasn’t exactly one of my favorite things to do, but Deanna loved it. We went to four shops and while she perused I did my best to talk, to keep her mind busy so she wouldn’t think about Allen or their disagreement. To her credit, she laughed and seemed engaged. Looking back, I have no idea what I babbled about for so long. The evening ended pleasantly with her purchasing a silver baby rattle from the last shop we went to and a hearty dinner at a local pub.
Later that night, we were in bed, the room mostly dark except for one soft nightstand lamp, and it was quiet. I thought she’d fallen asleep and I was doing my best to remain still so not to disturb her. We’d walked around quite a bit today. She was turned on her side facing me, her eyes closed, one hand resting on her belly. I hoped I’d managed to take her mind off Allen for a while. Too bad I hadn’t managed to do the same for myself. I was on my back, staring at the ceiling, trying to stop my mind from thinking about him.
Wren.
I wondered how he was.
Where he was.
Did he think of me?
Try as I did, I could not fight it. I could not fight him. He always won in this battle.
And there he was, so real in my memories. He was driving, one hand on the steering wheel, the other on my knee, the sunlight hitting him through the driver’s side window, creating an iridescent filter around him, accentuating the perfect cuts of his face. His sunglasses were on and he turned to look at me, a wolfish smirk capturing his features as he sang along with the radio. I touched my hand to my chest and pressed, wincing. It ached. He’d found a place within me and now that place was void; empty. I’d let him go, pushed him away. It was as if I’d carved him from my body myself, and now that place inside of me where he’d once existed was hollow.
It had been hell to lose him. Worse to know ultimately, I had pushed him away. But I had been right to do it. That’s what I told myself, probably to lessen my grief. We were two complex people. Opposites in many ways. I was too soft for him, and he was too hard for me. And so I’d pushed away what I feared, and I’d have to own that part. But he owned a part in this, too, whether he accepted it willingly or not. He’d let me go. He’d stopped fighting. He’d stood like a stone pillar, unmoving, unwilling to let himself be vulnerable enough to chase after me. That was my fault. I was used to people leaving, so with him I’d insured he’d leave too.
“Can’t sleep?” Deanna asked, startling me. I twisted my neck so my eyes met hers.
“Characters are whispering to me,” I lied. “Did your little kickboxer wake you up?” I chuckled.
She rubbed her belly. “No. He’s been quiet tonight.” I watched her as she stared at her hand. I could tell something was on her mind. “Do you think Allen is cheating on me?” Her voice grew husky.
She was crying. Damn. Turning my body to face hers, I took her hand in mine.
“He just travels so much, ya know?” She sniffled. “Like, I wonder, does he really have to go on all these trips, or is he volunteering to go because maybe he met someone out there. Maybe my new shape repulses him.” The uneasiness in her voice made my belly twist. My beautiful friend had always had so much faith in her marriage; in her husband. It was something I admired about her, how she never doubted his love. In fact, I envied that about her—what did it feel like to live life knowing with such absolute certainty that the person you loved most in the world loved you just as much? I couldn’t imagine. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever have that with someone or not. And I knew in part I might never have it because there was so much about myself I doubted, but I never wanted to see Deanna lose that feeling. As much as I envied it, I admired it more and needed it to exist. I couldn’t bear to let her fall into the murky waters of doubt. It sucked there. I should know.
“No,” I told her. “I truly don’t think he is.” There was no way for me to know for sure, obviously. I could only go with what I felt in my gut, and my gut said Allen was as honest as they came. He was dealing with the arrival of the baby in a way she didn’t understand. There were a million things that could wedge themselves between a husband and wife, and it’s not always infidelity. If to her Allen was slacking on his end, I believed there was a good reason…or at the very least an explanation that wouldn’t ruin their marriage.
“He still won’t have sex with me,” she whimpered, taking her hand from mine and wiping at her face. I sat up quickly and swiped a few tissues from th
e box on the nightstand next to me and handed them to her before lying back down. Dabbing at her face, she went on. “I just feel like he’s so distant. I don’t understand.”
It occurred to me that there were things not being said between them. I was no couple’s counselor, or authority on marriage given mine had failed, but I could say with honesty that divorce does teach you some things about yourself, or shows you who you were within the confines of matrimony. No matter who took most of the blame for why a union failed, we can all learn something about ourselves from it. We can all say, Here are some things I could have done better and will remember for the next go-round. And one of mine was communication. When my ex-husband Ross did something that upset me, a great deal of the time I’d let it go. Back then I was in more of a pick your battles way of thinking. Arguing was exhausting, and if I could avoid it, I did. But the more I pretended, the more I turned a cheek to things he did that hurt or bothered me, the more resentment built. Resentment leaks into everything. You think avoiding an argument, biting back words, means keeping the peace, but what animosity lurks in the unsaid?
Flipping the covers back, I climbed out of bed and walked over to the dresser where Deanna’s phone was charging. Grabbing it, I walked to her side where she was just sitting up, trying to figure out what I was doing. Holding her cell out, I said, “Call him. Right now.”
She glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand. “It’s almost midnight. He’ll be sleeping.”
“Then wake him up. But call him. Tell him how you feel, Deanna.”
The tissues I’d given her moments before were balled up in her hand as she used them to wipe under her eyes. “We can talk when he gets back.”
