by Karen Reis
“I didn’t realize that he was such an unstable person,” I told to Sean as the police drove away.
“I didn’t realize you’d gone out with him,” Sean growled.
We were still standing out on the balcony. Neighbors were peeking out windows, having a look at the local troublemakers no doubt. It was annoying being watched, but they had served the purpose of being witnesses to the fact that Sean had come to my defense, and not been in cahoots with Dan. Now I just wanted to get away from our audience and talk to Sean, who looked pissed and jealous.
I grabbed his hand and pulled him into my apartment, and locked the door behind me. I turned around and gasped. Sean stood only inches from me; I hadn’t expected him to be so close. He put his hands on my upper arms and I thought for moment that he was going to shake me. He didn’t though. He just held me in place, as if afraid I might run away.
“When did you go out with that jerk?’ he demanded to know. He was so intimidating. I squared my shoulders and refused to be intimidated.
“I went out with Dan once two days after the shower,” I explained, jerking out of his grasp. “That was before you kissed me. And it wasn’t even a real date. We saw a movie together at the library and had some coffee afterwards. I came straight home because he was a loser. That was when Charles and Glen’s cars got vandalized, remember?”
“Yeah,” Sean said, still not looking happy with me.
“There’s no reason for you to be jealous,” I continued, knowing that I was telling the truth and wanting desperately for him to believe me. “Dan got mad at me the next day after I told him for the second time that I didn’t want to see him again. Nothing sneaky has been going on between us.” I took a deep breath. “I’m not two-timing you.”
He believed me. I knew it because his angry expression melted. It was replaced by a haunted look in his eyes, and he grabbed my arms again, pulling me to him in a crushing embrace. He was trembling ever so slightly.
“Jesus, Carrie,” he said, his words muffled because his face was buried in my hair. “I was scared to death. I still am. I don’t know what I would have done to that guy if he’d actually gotten his hands on you.”
I shuddered at the thought too. “I didn’t know what to do,” I said in a small voice. “I didn’t like the fact that I had no way to escape.”
“Maybe you should think about moving out of here,” he suggested even as he pulled me closer.
“I’m in the middle of my lease. And you’re crushing my ribs.”
Sean loosened his grip just enough so that I could raise my arms up and loop them around his neck. He pulled me against him once more, but his grip was more intimate now rather than desperate.
He tucked my head under his chin, a position that felt oddly wonderful to me. “Every time I turn around you’re getting into trouble. What am I going to do with you?” he asked.
I stroked Sean’s back and suddenly wished that he was wearing a T-shirt so I could slip my hands underneath it and feel his skin. Whoa, I thought. Down girl. Still, I couldn’t help but suggest, “You could kiss me?”
Sean obliged, kissing me roughly at first, then more gently but still hungrily. It was the kind of kiss that could lead into all sorts of mischief, and I thought at that moment that I was totally ready for some.
But Sean wasn’t. He pulled his mouth from mine and heaved a sigh and tucked my head back under his chin. “I think I gotta’ home now.”
“Alright,” I whispered.
“I’ll see you tomorrow for sure?” he asked me.
I nodded, and then asked, “Did you get my message?”
“I did.”
I moved so that I could look him in the eyes. He had such beautiful eyes. “Where were you that you got home so late?”
Sean hesitated. “A buddy of mine called. He needed to talk. He’s been having some problems.”
“Oh,” I said. “That was nice of you.”
I told Sean goodnight, but I wondered about this friend of his. I didn’t have any beef with him helping a friend out in a crisis, but I did wonder why he seemed so uncomfortable talking about it. Was he lying?
I shook my head. Nah.
Chapter 7
Understandably, I ended up tossing and turning all night, thinking about Sean, thinking about Dan. I had a horrible nightmare that my alarm clock saved me from that involved Dan, a knife, and a bottomless swimming pool. Bleary eyed, I took the bus to work and was inundated by questions from my nosy coworkers. Dan was not there, and when I asked, I was told that he had been fired. The two security guards who were permanent fixtures at the library since 9/11 were on the lookout for him should he be let out of jail on bail and decide to show up there.
I called Genny on my lunch break to let her know that she had been right about Dan being not worth my time. “Sean’s taking me out on a date tonight,” I finished, knowing that she’d not lecture me about my poor choice in Dan with news like that to chew on.
Predictably, she squealed and clapped her hands, which made me laugh because just saying with that I was “with” Sean made me happy too. He was a gentleman despite his background.
“He’ll be so good for you, I just know it,” Genny assured me when she was done congratulating herself on a match well made. “Isaac speaks so highly of him.”
“He is a good guy,” I agreed.
“I hope you won’t take this amiss, but I wanted to make sure you picked a good guy to be your first love and not some sleaze ball who treated you like trash. I was worried you’d do that, considering how you were raised.”
I sat up straighter in my seat. “What do you mean by that?”
Genny said slowly and tactfully, “Well, studies have shown that girls who are raised to think that they’re worthless generally pick guys who treat them like they’re worthless because they don’t think they deserve any better. Or that they can get any better. Those kinds of girls tend to end up in abusive relationship after abusive relationship. I didn’t want you to end up with some guy who hit you. I didn’t want to see you stay with some guy who hit you.”
I frowned. “I don’t think I would stay with a guy who treated me badly,” I said, thinking of how I hadn’t stuck around home, nor had I gone back. “And if a guy ever hit me, I sure as heck wouldn’t stick around.” I’d wait till he was asleep, tie him to the bed, and break all his bones with a baseball bat. Then I’d leave him.
“I hope so,” Genny said. “But I worry because…Well, never mind. As long as you’re with Sean, I don’t have to worry.”
“No,” I said. “Tell me what you were going to say. You’ve got me curious.”
“I don’t want to risk insulting you.”
“You won’t insult me,” I pressed her. “Come on; tell me what you were going to say.”
Genny sighed. “Okay. I was going to say I worried about something like that happening because you stick close to your parents.”
My mouth hung up open in shock at her words. “I’m not close to my parents,” I said defensively. “When was the last time you ever saw us be ‘close’?”
“I didn’t say you were close, I said you stick close to them. You know they’re abusive; they treat you badly, especially Nancy, but you take their phone calls and you go over and help around the house and visit and keep up the lines of communication.”
“I just want to be a dutiful daughter,” I said quietly.
“I know, and that would be good under healthy circumstances, but Carrie, your parents are toxic, and they still have a huge influence over you. And that worries me. Sometimes I just want to tell you to move away out of state and not give them your new number, not contact them anymore, because all they do is tear you down and make you feel like you’re worthless, like nothing you do is right or good. I mean, your mother called you a whore for saying something nice about a neighbor on the news. Don’t tell me that kind of thing doesn’t affect you.”
“It does,” I admitted. “For a little while. But I can handle it Genny. I
always have. I take what Nancy says with a grain of salt. Yes, what she says sometimes hurts – it hurts a lot, but it doesn’t stay with me forever. I’ve learned to shake it off.”
Genny sighed. “Do you really believe that?” she asked.
No. “Yes,” I said firmly. “Though I will think about what you’ve said.” I paused. “I did pick Sean you know.”
I could hear Genny smile. “Yes you did. And I’m glad. And thank you for not getting upset over what I said.”
“You’re welcome. It’s more proof to you that I’m a balanced person, right?”
Genny agreed. I hung up, finished my work and went to go pick up my car. I looked it over carefully as I was handed the keys. “It looks better than the day I bought it,” I said, smiling at the shop owner.
I was back home by five p.m. Sean had called me earlier in the day and told me to be ready to go out at six. Feeling parched, I stood in front of my refrigerator and chugged a glass of water. As I finished, my eyes caught and lingered on the letter from Barbara that I had not had time to open or even think about recently. Even though I had to get in the shower, I carefully pulled it out of the clippie magnet and ripped open the envelope. I paused with my fingers on the letter within, wondering what would happen if I did take it out.
Would it really hurt to just read it? I didn’t dread its contents, I was just…apathetic. Barbara was a stranger to me, a vague memory at best. She had no emotional hold on me; I didn’t even care that she had given up her custody rights. I had no real memories of her as my mother or caregiver. I knew what she looked like, but that was all I knew about her.
I supposed that Barbara wanted to become acquainted with me, to make up for lost time and make me love her. I didn’t know about all that. The last thing I needed or wanted was a mother-figure. Judy had filled that role nicely, but I was 21 now, and I didn’t need a mother anymore. I had gone without one for so long, Nancy not being the best person for confiding in or for mothering, I didn’t think I’d know what to do if I really had one.
Still, I pulled it out and opened the paper up.
Dear Carrie, it read.
I herd that you moved out of your Dad’s house and I wanted to take this oportunity to tell you that I’d like to get to know you. I know it’s been a long time since you’ve seen me, and I sorry for that, but there is a good reason I stayed away. That might not mean much to you but I’d like to explain if you want me to. I did some very bad things in the past that have taken me a long time to get over. I’m a better person now than I was 18 years ago and I’d like the chance to prove to you that I do love you no matter what you might have been told.
I’m so proud that you’ve become a smart, independent woman. I hope that you can find happiness and peace in your life. I hope you make good decisions, and I hope you never do things that you’ll regret for years. I never regret having you or your sisters, but there are actions I took that I do regret.
If you’d like to write me back, you can send a letter, or call, or e-mail me. I’d really like to hear from you. I’ve been in contact with your sisters for a while now and I’m trying to make amends. I’m sorry and I’d like to start over.
Love, Your Mother,
Barbara
She was a bit of a rambler I thought, but I reread the short letter again. She seemed in earnest, despite her bad grammar and spelling mistakes. At the bottom of the page, she had included her telephone numbers and her email address.
I didn’t want to think about calling her or contacting her in person just yet. I just put the letter in a drawer and got ready for my date with Sean.
I knocked on Sean’s door at six and he let me in with a smile and a light kiss on my lips. “You look really pretty,” he said, and I blushed. I was wearing a dress again, a simple black and white checked number that was cute and girly and showed off my shoulders. I normally hated wearing dresses, but when I was around Sean, I wanted to look feminine. Looking very masculine, Sean was wearing jeans and a nice shirt that hugged his biceps and shoulders and was a total turn on. I suddenly panicked, thinking that perhaps I was dressing too cutesy: men liked sexy better than cute, right?
“Feel free to look around,” Sean said. “I gotta’ brush my teeth. Then we can go.”
I took him up on the offer since the last time I was in there I was too busy being lectured about personal safety to snoop. I liked what I saw. He had a real one bedroom apartment. His walls were full of art and photographs, but there were no pictures of his family anywhere. Considering what he had told me about his family, they probably didn’t deserve to be remembered on his walls. I could sympathize. I didn’t have any pictures of my family up in my apartment either.
In one corner sat his computer and a desk. There was the standard computer paraphernalia on it along with a stack of PC World magazines and printouts of what looked like HTML. He knew how to design websites apparently. Next to the computer was a very manly entertainment center, but next to that was an easel and a plastic set of drawers full of paint supplies. Sean was an artist. I had not expected that. Paintings and drawings were stacked against the wall nearby and I gestured towards them as he exited the bathroom. “May I?”
“Go ahead,” he said, coming to stand just behind me. He smelled wonderful, like he had splashed on a bit of aftershave or cologne. “Just don’t get too excited. They aren’t that wonderful.”
I flipped through the canvasses. It was hard to concentrate on them because he was caressing the bare skin of my shoulders and neck, but I made the effort to focus. I thought some were good, some weird, and some were just like he’d said: not that wonderful. But I especially liked one drawing that he’d done in charcoal of a woman looking over her shoulder at something behind her.
“I like this one. It’s really good,” I said as Sean kissed the tender spot just below my ear. His touch gave me goose bumps. Was he trying to seduce me?
I cleared my throat and went on doggedly, “Her eyes are so huge and she just looks so vulnerable.” Sean nuzzled my neck in response, and my heart skipped a beat. “And yet,” I said, my voice cracking. “Whatever she sees, or whatever she’s feeling, she’s completely unafraid.” I pulled away from Sean and looked up at him. “It’s brilliant.”
Sean was still focused on my skin though, his fingers trailing their way lightly down my shoulders to my arms. “You are so beautiful,” he breathed.
My stomach flipped. “I couldn’t think of anywhere to go to dinner. Did you have anything in mind?”
Sean snaked an arm around my waist and pulled me close to him, his other hand resting on the back of my neck. “I like your hair up this way,” he murmured, kissing me on the side of my neck. It was all I could do not to turn to jelly right there in his arms. “Do you know how beautiful you are? Do you know how much you turn me on?”
I flushed and shook my head. No one had ever spoken like this to me before, and it embarrassed me. Trying to get us back on topic, I asked shakily, “What about Italian? I like Italian.”
Sean kissed me lightly on the lips. “I’m really hungry,” I whispered, my heart hammering in my chest.
“I’m hungry too,” he murmured before taking my mouth again.
I could tell.
And oh my, what that man could do with his mouth and hands. It made me want to forget everything and just let him steer me towards the bedroom, but I was not ready for that, no matter how good he was making me feel. Sean sensed that, and he lifted his head.
“Let’s go before I throw you over my shoulder and ravish you.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Maybe tomorrow night,” I teased as I slipped out of his arms. “Now where do you want to go for dinner?”
“To a hamburger dive,” he said gathering up his keys. “And a movie. Is that okay?”
I shrugged. “I love hamburger dives.”
We went outside and got into his truck. “It’s better this way,” he said on the way to the burger joint. He was referring to the fact that we were not in be
d together. “I still got more to tell you about myself.”
The burgers were divine. As we ate, I found out that Sean and I had a lot more in common besides dysfunctional families. We both liked to read books, though he was more into mysteries and cyberpunk, and I loved science fiction and the occasional romance, if the characters and plot weren’t obnoxious. We both liked rock ‘n roll, but he was more into alternative and punk, whereas I was a classic rock junkie and had a sweet spot for country music. He liked to cook and I liked to bake, mostly chocolate cake and chocolate cookies.
The more we talked, the greater my opinion of him grew. He was a web designer, an artist, a creator. He was into science too, and we talked about biology and genetics and our environment, which led to a discussion of our families.
“How old were you when your dad remarried?” he asked me as were finishing up our meal.
“Almost five,” I said. “I don’t remember much, and I haven’t been told much, but apparently, my mom, Barbara is her name, signed a paper saying she gave up all of her parental rights to me and my sisters. I’ve been wondering lately why she would do that. Everything about the divorce is hush-hush.”
“Do you have any contact with her?”
“Not for a long time,” I replied. “But she sent me a letter last month saying that she wanted to get in touch. Nancy saw it the other day and almost had a kitten. She and my Dad have nothing good to say about Barbara.”
“Are you going to reply to her letter?”
I paused. “I don’t know. I just read it today. She left when I was so young, I don’t really think of her as my mother, just the woman who gave birth to me. There’s no emotional connection, and before this I’ve barely thought about her. I certainly never thought about contacting her.”
“But now that she’s taken the first step, that’s got you thinking,” Sean said. “And you have questions.”
“I do,” I admitted. “And I don’t. Or rather, I’m not sure I want the answers. Maybe I won’t like what I learn.”
