The Other Side

by Mary E. Twomey

  I shrugged.

  “How are you doing with all this?” He motioned to the divorce papers he had in his hand.

  I sat with my shoulders hunched forward, protecting my emotions, lest he see them and laugh. “Oh, you know. Fine.”

  “Jamie told me you tried to file your paperwork a few times, but couldn’t go through with it.” He pinched a lock of my hair between his thumb and forefinger, addressing it instead of me directly. Now that he was in my world, he knew it was no big deal to come across blonde hair. I thought he would lose his fascination with mine after the first month here. But still his fingers found my curls entrancing, winding themselves through my tresses he only loved more the longer they grew.

  “Jamie has a fat mouth.” I batted Foss’s hand away. “Quit it.” I huffed. “Yes. I tried to file before, but something always came up, so I put it off. Nothing more complicated than that.”

  “Women get stoned for leaving their husbands where I come from.”

  I glared at him. “You want I should stay married to you? Have you readied the skipping rocks?”

  He crossed one leg over the other. “No. I was just saying, it’s very different here.”

  “How about this, next time you want to make a little chit chat, steer clear of subjects like stoning me, okay?”

  “You’re nervous,” he observed. “You always pick fights with me when you’re anxious.”

  I harrumphed. “Yeah? Well, you only pick fights with me when you’re awake. It’s how I know you’re breathing.”

  He chuckled, and the sound was somehow a comfort. “I feel strange about it, too, and not just because marriage is more permanent where I come from.”

  We sat in silence a few beats before his hand found its way back to my hair. I relaxed a little and leaned against him, resting my head between his chest and his shoulder. “It’s good we’re divorcing. It was all pretend anyway. I can’t believe Jens held back as long as he did.” I didn’t know why I was still trying to convince myself.

  “Jens is in a tough spot. He’s in love with you, but he’s also bound to you. He has to tread carefully with these kinds of things so he doesn’t spook you and make you both completely miserable.”

  My palms were sweating, so I wiped them off on my skirt. “Yeah. I just didn’t realize this would be the thing that spooked me.”

  With his free hand, he reached over his torso and stuck two fingers in my palm for me to hold. He caressed the well of my palm with his middle finger. His deeper voice was low and soothing. “You weren’t a bad wife, Lucy.”

  I squeezed his fingers. “You weren’t a terrible husband.” I stroked his wrist with my thumb. “And you saved my life too many times to say a simple thank you.”

  Foss nodded. “You, too. You saved us all.”

  Foss kept a rubber band around his beefy wrist, and I lightly snapped it. It was part of his Anger Management class, snapping the rubber band whenever he got too worked up. I appreciated the tool, but really I just like playing with it. Jens and Foss went to weekly meetings together. Foss took Jens to Narcotics Anonymous, and Jens took Foss to Anger Management. It was kinda sweet to watch them go off on their man dates and come back a little better off every time.

  The clerk called the only other couple in the room, and I stiffened knowing that we were next. Foss could sense my apprehension, so he kissed my temple. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

  I plastered on a good representation of a smile as I spoke. “It’s fine. We should get divorced. Now you can go off and marry one of those women who tours the ranch and gives you the glad eye. Don’t think I don’t see how they look at you. Ranger Bob with his trusty steed.”

  “Lucy?”

  “Just don’t pick someone annoying. I mean, we all have to hang out with her, so maybe do an IQ check first.”

  “Lucy,” Foss admonished my conversational dodging.

  His voice was so sincere; I couldn’t look at him. “Don’t. Don’t be nice right now. Don’t make me feel,” I whispered. “I can’t take it today.”

  His breath in my ear was so quiet, I knew it had to be something that would threaten my resolve. He didn’t like being openly sweet to me. “I do love you.”

  I nodded as I stared in front of me, a lump forming in my throat. “Yep. You too. You know, with the love stuff.” I touched my heart, but was still unable to look at him, afraid of falling into his abyss and chickening out again on filing the papers. “Let’s get this over with.”

  Our names were called, and we stood. He held my hand to communicate that any strength I was lacking could be borrowed from him, though I could sense he was wavering, too. I handed the paperwork to the clerk, who checked to make sure everything was in order and then waved us through.

  The judge’s chambers were straight out of every TV show I’d ever seen. Leather chairs, big ominous desk, matching, regal-looking books on the bookshelf, African-American man in a black robe who looked like he wanted everything expedited and as little conversation as possible.

  We handed him our papers, and he silently checked them over. “You’re here for a termination of your marriage?” He leafed through the papers until he found the one he was looking for. “That seems to be in order. Well done. I don’t appreciate people coming into my chambers and wasting my time with half-done paperwork.”

  Huh. I didn’t know judges called their offices their chambers. I thought that was a TV thing.

  “Reason for divorce?”

  “Irreconcilable differences,” I answered quickly. That was a lie. We were too similar. We had too much fight in us to play nicely with others. We were proud and hated limitations. Foss was a hard worker, and I liked to think I was, too. Twenty credit hours plus keeping an eye on the three new Undrans took a fair amount of determination. We valued family, and fought hard to keep what belonged to us, ours.

  I looked up to find Foss’s eyes on me. He had been conversing with the judge, and now it was my turn. I answered the few clarifying questions. No, I didn’t want alimony. No, I wasn’t going to keep his name, since I never took his in the first place. No, we didn’t need mediation to split up our assets. It was all there, clean and simple. Had there been a drive-thru, we would’ve been done in a flash. No, we didn’t have any children to fight over. No, I don’t want fries with my divorce order.

  We signed papers, shook the judge’s hand and left the office, hand in hand. Foss pulled me aside in the waiting room before we rejoined the others. He kept his same low tone to keep his niceness from being heard. “For what it’s worth, I don’t regret it.”

  I couldn’t look up at him. “For what it’s worth, neither do I.” I should have felt lighter, but somehow my shoulders felt weighted with adulthood. Twenty-one never felt so old.

  I turned to push open the door, but Foss caught my arm. Without a word, he spun me around, tilted my chin up and kissed me. It was the same closed-mouth nips we occasionally blessed each other with, but this one felt like a parting of ways. I hugged his middle, my face buried in his chest, clinging to the solid anchor I wished I didn’t need, but knew I’d never fully shake.

  We didn’t speak. We didn’t need to. Talking was where we got ourselves in trouble, so instead we swallowed the things we knew to be true, accepting the change in our relationship that would always leave me confused.

  Foss linked his fingers through mine, and I could feel the calluses from playing his fiddle. Occasionally he brought his instrument when he visited us, playing calming compositions to soothe me when I slipped back into the inevitable melancholy. There was a time I stopped talking for a few weeks when we first started building a new life together in my world. Foss played for my stoic demeanor until emotion finally surfaced. Though he couldn’t control me with his music (nor could he control me any other way), it was his pledge to me. No matter what our legal status was, we were soldered together like two misshapen pieces of junk metal that needed each other to be useful.

  I was bound to quite a f
ew people, now that Undraland was behind me. Jamie and I would never be rid of each other, though I’m not sure either of us cared anymore. We’d learned to respect each other’s walls and play in each other’s dreams. He was the big brother I’d never had, but always wanted.

  Though I was bound to Britta through her marriage to Jamie, I would have tied myself to her regardless. She was the best of the most important things you could want in a girlfriend. Britta was loyal even when I was wrong. She was both gentle and vicious at just the right times.

  Foss moved to open the door that lead out to the lobby, but I stopped him. “Wait. Um, this belongs to you.” I reached to the nape of my neck and fiddled with the leather lace that held his ring just over my heart. The knot was impossible; certainly it wasn’t because my fingers were trembling that I couldn’t get the knot undone. I huffed. “Do you have your knife on you?”

  “You said no knives in the courthouse,” he reminded me. “Are you sure you don’t want to keep it?”

  I nodded. “I’m sure. It’s your ring. Save it for the next Mrs. Foss. The real one.” I tugged at the lace again, flustered at the emotions that rose up in me.

  “Hold still. I got it.” With fingers that were rarely gentle, he slowly undid the rope that had started out feeling like a noose, but over time had become a sort of treasure to me. Being around Foss had been a similar journey.

  Lucy, if you don’t want me to know this, put up your wall. This is just painful to watch, Jamie said in my brain. You remember Jens, right? He’s pacing the floor out here. He’s a jumble of nerves over this, so choose your path and be done with it.

  I cringed and tried to push Jamie out. It was harder to do when my emotions were so all over the place.

  I held up my hair, grateful Foss couldn’t see my face as I tried to remain completely motionless so he wouldn’t sense my trepidation at being truly without him. I felt the knot release its grip on my psyche, and the ring fell away into Foss’s palm. He clutched it in a fist he pressed tight to my breasts. His lips swept the back of my neck, and I released my hair to fall around his face. He inhaled, and I exhaled.

  “That felt like a goodbye kiss,” I whispered.

  “Is Jamie gone?” he asked, his thumb reaching down and tracing my hip.

  I nodded with trepidation. The hair on my arms stood, knowing I was about to make a choice I shouldn’t.

  “Then, no. That wasn’t goodbye.” He shook his head against my neck and turned me to face him, that unconcealed longing in his eyes tugging me forward. “One more, and then we can be done.”

  I didn’t agree aloud, but my answering lips against his was response enough. I can’t imagine many couples make out seconds after their divorce, but that’s exactly what we did. Foss and I were never on the right path. We were all wrong, but he tasted like comfort during a confusing time in my life.

  His thumb traced my lowest rib over my blouse, and I fisted my fingers in the shirt collar I’d bought him. We pulled each other closer, indulging in the last moments of our gratuitous relationship. This kiss was hard, but his lips were soft. I fought with everything in me to keep the wall up so Jamie wouldn’t feel the fire Foss always managed to kindle inside me.

  When the kiss finally hit a head, we slowly melted down from the moment, going back in for the occasional “one last kiss” a few more times. “You’re going to be a hard habit to quit,” I remarked, emotion too thick to hide in my voice.

  He touched his lips, steadying himself. “I think it’s time.” He drew me in and held me in his firm grip, restraining me from leaving just yet. His love was always tinged with a little force, but he was learning to be gentle with me. “Goodbye, Lucy.”

  I nodded, but the words were stuck inside me. “Yup,” was all I could manage before the emotion bubbled to the surface.

  Foss let me go. It felt all kinds of wrong and right. He straightened as he slid his ring back on his finger, and then moved beside me to open the door. His eyes looked up at the ceiling to avoid my face as if I was an embarrassment to him. “You’re crying. You look disgusting when you cry.”

  “Shut your smackhole,” I jabbed, wiping the pinpricks of moisture from my cheeks.

  “You shouldn’t show Jens you’re upset. It’s like, the happiest day of his life.” He grumbled under his breath, his personality obliterating any forthcoming regrets or second thoughts I had concerning our divorce.

  I swiped at my eyes again with my glove. “Better?”

  Foss shook his head and huffed disparagingly in my face. “What do you want me to say? You’re still a little ugly. Give it a couple seconds.”

  I guffawed. “I can’t believe I was actually sad to divorce you! You’re so mean!”

  Foss shrugged, unfazed at my accusation. “You love me. It’s your one redeeming quality.”

  I mimed barfing all over his chest, and then I traced a filthy curse word in the fake vomit.

  He responded by rolling his eyes, turning me to the door before him and smacking my butt as I passed through. He’d started doing that a few months ago. Jens was not pleased.

  “Knock it off!” I demanded, slamming my elbow back into his solar plexus. His “oof!” at my force was mildly satisfying.

  Our anger reached its usual crest, and we both chuckled a little at the confusing nature of our broken and bruised relationship. He bumped his fist to mine, both of us breaking into soft smiles at the dysfunction.

  Jens stood as we walked into the lobby, his hopeful expression nearly breaking my heart. “Is it… Did you… Is it done, then?” he asked, his cagey gaze laced with a note of hesitation. He was a rocket before the blastoff.

  At my nod, he let out a shout of relief and disbelief that he could finally have what he wanted with no strings attached. I watched invisible bonds untie themselves from Jens, making him look younger, without the cynicism, sarcasm and worlds of survival that were bred in him. The serious people around him in suits cast disapproving looks at his outburst, but he paid them no mind.

  When Foss tried to shake Jens’s hand in a manly passing of the baton kind of way, Jens laughed and brought the big bull in for a hug and a kiss on both his cheeks. “You’re suddenly the most beautiful man I’ve ever laid eyes on,” Jens declared. “Other than that roguishly handsome beast of a man I saw in the mirror this morning.”

  Foss was not amused. “I’ve got things to do.” His portable gray cloud was darkening to black, and I knew it would be best if he was left alone. “See you Friday for rock climbing?”

  I nodded. “Of course. Wouldn’t dream of breaking tradition.” I’d insisted they socialize and get some sort of modern education. Their retaliation was that I had to learn better survival skills. Every Friday was rock climbing, followed by a self-defense class with Britta, and then topped off with an evening of kayaking. I think I preferred weightlifting class with Professor Vin Diesel. Foss was relentless on Fridays, always pushing me harder. I loved him and hated him for it, but that seemed to be our way.

  Foss cast us a two-fingered wave, got into his green pickup and sped away, breaking two traffic laws before he got to the main road.

  Even though it was only ten in the morning, I wanted to take a nap. I was suddenly hit with a semi-truck worth of exhaustion.

  Jens had other plans. He pulled out four tickets from his pocket and waved them in my face, his eyebrows doing that dance I loved. “Feel like crappy hippie music?” he asked, knowing what my answer would always be.

  “Seriously? Yes!” My smile revived for the occasion. I couldn’t think of any better way to celebrate my marital freedom than with the live music I knew I would love, and Jens would loathe.

  I shook off the feel of Foss’s lips on mine. I shook off the divorce. I shook off the scars, the deaths, Pesta and the whole of Undraland. I fiddled with the vial at my neck, and did my best to shake off the grief that I’d been married and divorced, and my family hadn’t been there for any part of it.

  I could feel Linus pushing me forward, so I let
myself fall into Jens’s arms. I melted like soft taffy against his solid chest, and the world felt right again.

  “There you are. I’ve been missing the you that’s you. I hate seeing you so withdrawn. I knew this would help.” Jens’s grin split his face like he’d been sucking on a wire coat hanger. “You ready for it?”

  We stepped out into the sunshine, new possibilities dancing as we set to explore more of the Other Side. I’d never seen my world for what it was until Jens showed it to me. We put down roots. We got a mailbox on a post that went into the ground – not a box on a wall, like the ones we’d used in the apartments my family had frequented. We got address labels printed in actual ink, so you know it’s permanent. Jens, Jamie and Foss built me a white picket fence in all of its fifties sitcom glory, and I loved the great men in my life for it.

  “I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready for you,” I admitted. I kissed him on the steps of the courthouse, letting Jamie and Britta pass us so we could slow the world for a few breaths to enjoy our moment. For everything he’d given me, the only thing Jens seemed to need in return was for me to see him, so he could shed his identity as the invisible man.

  I ran my hands through his thick hair he’d halfway brushed for the occasion, pressing my forehead to his. He delivered one simple kiss to my suggestible lips before whispering, “You’re okay with this? You’re doing alright? You’re sure this is what you want?”

  I sifted my fingers through his, nodding as I held tight to our connection. “I’m sure. I’ve always wanted to make out with a garden gnome. Way sexier than the pink flamingo lawn ornaments.”

  He grinned at my shtick, too happy to properly jab me back. The golden tattoo on his cheek shifted as he spoke. “I love you, Loos. I’m so happy right now. Remember this moment. I have no sarcastic comebacks.”

  His smile was charming, gorgeous and contagious. “I love you, too. You’re an amazing thing, you know.”

  His hand squeezed mine. “You’re a beautiful thing.”