Chapter 11
The Queen of Hearts
There were three weeks between Thanksgiving and Christmas break. I went through the motions, studying for finals, writing a few listless articles about the election and the Supreme Court’s decision. The last week of QFM was pretty much dedicated to the fact that Al Gore had conceded the election to Bush.
“There go your job prospects,” Phil told me.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Bush hates science. You’ll see: watch what happens to the federal branches such as Fish and Wildlife and NOAA. He’ll make a ghost town out of them.”
“Tammy will be able to land on her feet,” Helen told him firmly.
I wasn’t surprised when she asked me to stay after class again. “Here,” she said, handing me a manila folder.
Inside were various pamphlets and flyers from the University of Michigan’s School of Communications. “Science writing?”
“The program is only a year long. It’s intense, but you’ll have a certificate in science writing when you’re finished. You need a few letters of recommendation, besides mine of course, and to take the GRE. Tammy, will you please just think about it?”
“Sure,” I replied, mainly just to be able to get to O-chem on time. I closed the folder and tucked it into my backpack. “I’ll think about it.”
But my thoughts wouldn’t linger on much besides Joshua. I still hadn’t heard a word from him. I didn’t understand. Joshua fought so hard over the summer to break through my wall, and then once I let him in, said all those things about us being together. All those “I love you’s” spoken every night for the last few months. Except that last phone call. What had become of us? Do you ever wake up in the middle of the night and reach out for me, Joshua? Do you miss me? Don’t you ever pause and think of all those promises you made?
Nights were the loneliest. During the day I occupied myself with classes. When finals week came, I studied with Nishaan until late, staving off the hours of isolation for a just a bit longer. The studying must have paid off as I knew enough to pass my O-chem final.
The night before the end of the semester, our QFM class met out at a bar. I only went because I was assured by multiple classmates that Dallas wouldn’t be there. When Helen arrived, all she wanted to talk about was my final column of the semester. I’d titled it, “How Can You Get Even with Love?,” and happened to mention a certain obsessive crush I’d once had, even admitting that he was in one of my classes.
What is the point of love anyway? If a man's evolutionary mission is to procreate as much as possible and a woman's evolutionary mission is to mate with high quality males, when and how did love evolve? Love has no evolutionary advantages. In fact, it's hard to find any general advantages at all. Don't emotions just get in the way of procreation?
I mean, being in love is pretty darn fine and dandy. As long as it lasts. But it sure sucks when it's gone. Even being in love for the shortest time is still going to hurt like hell when it's over. The late, great Freddie Mercury once crooned that "just one year of love is better than a lifetime alone." I tend to disagree, because if you've never been in love, you really don't know what you're missing. You won't spend years lamenting over what could have been. And you could do the whole shebang: marriage, kids, big house, two dogs, great job, without ever having been in love. Some people do, in fact.
Some say that love is its own reward. Gee, that’s just the trophy I've always wanted. "CONGRATULATIONS, Tammy, for winning the grand prize. And the reward for all your hard work is, ta-da, the pain of a broken heart and years of sorrow and suffering!" Um… thanks, but no thanks. Not again.
They say love conquers all. Not true. Sometimes with love, the circumstances are beyond anyone's control. I spent the greater part of a relationship with him in Michigan and I in Florida. We did so well that we decided to just keep it going when he went back to England. It was only supposed to be long distance for five more months, and then both us would be back in the Midwest. But then things just fell apart. The future Mr. Tammy T. Tymes is now just a regular old bloke, who’s dealing with his own loss—his father. And he's going through it all 4000 miles across the Atlantic away from me. I only wish love could conquer all. I wish love could cure his dad's cancer, and give Joshua back his visa and make him the soon-to-be Mr. Tammy again. But love won't return my phone calls.
So what happens when love ends? When you wake up from the dream and have to face the cold facts of a harsh real world? Some spend lonely nights crying over their loss, some stop eating and sleeping (some eat and sleep too much), some go out, party, get drunk, and hook up with someone else. Looking for love again in all the wrong places.
Still others find the need to seek revenge. Even if there was never mutual love to begin with. Especially if it ended badly. Love dictates that sometimes those in pain must cause pain. You always hurt the one you love the most.
Glenn Close did it. Lorena Bobbit did it. I did it too, a long, long time ago in a complex far, far away. I didn't anything physical; he's still alive, in one piece, and in my QFM class. I'm going to have to say I'm sorry about that whole thing there, buddy. Luckily, it only took me a couple of times of acting out Psycho Tammy fantasies to learn my lesson. No more dirty Christmas carols, no more prank calls, no more sticking of (clean) maxi pads on doors. I'm all grown up now. I found out what love really is. And I lost it. This time I’m drowning my sorrows with the most important men in my life right now (Ben and Jerry) and watching old Mark Hamill movies on late night TV. For the rest of my life. The Horse would be so proud of me.
They say that love makes the world go 'round. There are a lot of things that make the Earth spin, like gravity, but I'm pretty sure love isn't one of them. They say that for every time you are hurt in love, that's how much better it will be when you finally find that special someone. Well, I don't know about any of that. I was hurt pretty badly there once upon a time; cried a few times, did some stupid stuff I'm not too proud of. And then I found my special someone. And it was pretty good. But he's gone now. And I hate love.
Love allows for all things. It allows for sitcoms about subject matter a lot of people can relate to (singles never finding love) to hold top spots in prime-time television. It allows for people like Michael Bolton and Meatloaf to make oodles of cash singing about the same melancholy theme over and over. It allows for high school sweethearts who grow apart, for hopeful fiancés to stand at an empty altar, chagrined in front of friends and family, for cheating spouses, for millions of dollars in divorce settlements, for people who once loved each other to hate each other's guts. It allows for broken hearts to never heal.
I think if love ever suddenly manifested into an actual living, breathing human being, he would be one heartless SOB. Unscrupulous, uncompromising, unfeeling. Just the kind of guy I'd fall for. Yep, I think if love ever personified, he'd probably hurt me too. And what I would like to know is, how would I seek my revenge then?
How can you get even with love?
“It’s Dallas, isn’t it?” Helen asked, obviously focused on the obsessive crush part of the article.
I glanced over to make sure no one else was paying attention, and then nodded. I will never know how she picked him out of the dozen of guys that were in that class. A chance eye-rolling at a dumb comment he made? A furtive glance in the wrong direction? Perhaps it was that awkward conversation at the Chinese restaurant last week when Dallas deigned to speak to me for the first time in years. Whatever the cause, she knew. And if that was the case, then I was definitely not as clever as I thought.
There’s no denying that Dallas was an important part of my life for a very long time. No girl forgets her first obsession, or, for that matter, her first true rejection. It took me at least six months to stop hurting when I thought of him. Actually, sometimes, when I was in the right mood, it still was a bit painful. And the scar still lingers; however faded, it remains, affecting the relationships I tried—well, any Blockhead I had “interaction” with, to put it politely—for a long time. That day at the restaurant when Dallas was so nice to me, I could only feel… uncomfortable, ill at ease with our newfound camaraderie. We spent at least two years as undeclared enemies. I was content to spurn him forever, and hoped he would simply disregard me as some girl he knew once.
All the daring shit I did since then when a guy rejected me: making prank phone calls, putting maxi-pads on doors, yelling obscenities at the Blockheads as they walked across campus, was just to disguise the fact that I was terrified of ever doing anything grown-up. I used to think I’d never turn down a dare because I was brave, but now I know it was a cover-up. Dallas never did anything wrong. What happened between us was my fault. I couldn’t tell him outright that I had a crush on him, so what was he supposed to do? That tape was my way of blaming him for never understanding that I longed for us to be together, even if I never told him so. A cop-out. And all of that other immature stuff was just my way of covering up the hurt I felt.
After I met Joshua everything in my life changed. All those mistakes I made seemed to not matter anymore.
But now he was a world away, and I didn’t know what to do.
I cried on the plane ride home for the holidays. I’d tried to keep Joshua out of mind for so long, but as I left Florida and headed back to Michigan, all I could think of was that he wasn’t there. He’s not coming back.
I had to repeat the words to Drew’s friend Max when he asked where Joshua was.
“Sorry to hear that,” was Max’s reply. “I liked his accent. Any chance you’ll make us some cookies?”
I ended up playing cards on New Year’s Eve with him and my brother. My parents were at a friend’s house and Corrie and Kellen went to some formal party at a nearby hotel.
“How’s the car?” Drew asked. He and Corrie had to come up with a schedule to use my mom’s SUV. I didn’t participate in the scheduling as I had nowhere to go.
“Funny you should ask. Right before I left, I noticed the key wouldn’t work in either door. Luckily the windows were open at the time so I just pulled up the knob to get it open. I usually leave it unlocked now.”
“Yeah, that happened to me in the summer. I’m out.” Drew dropped his hand of cards on the table. “Next time, just stick the key in the lock and kick it. It worked for me.”
“OK, I’ll try that.” We started playing a drinking game. I’d had quite a few beers, and, around 11, I pulled the Queen of Hearts. It felt significant to my buzzed self, as if my psycho guardian angel had finally given me the one up. Somehow I felt that, right then, Joshua was thinking of me, and that I’d hear from him as soon as I got back to campus. My optimistic thoughts were interrupted by the slamming of the front door.
“Corrie?” Drew called.
“No.” Kellen appeared in the kitchen. “Corrie’s not here.”
“Did you get into a fight again?” Drew asked.
Kellen nodded as he picked a chocolate chip cookie. “Yum,” he said, wiping a few crumbs off his chin before grabbing another.
“Tammy’s cookies are the best,” Max stated.
“Just the thing after a fight with your girlfriend,” Drew added.
I watched Kellen as he stuffed a whole cookie into his mouth. We’d been generally avoiding each other for the past six years, but besides my sister, I was probably the person who knew him best. His nonchalance was betrayed by the hurt I saw in his green eyes. “Do you want to play?” I asked.
He fell into a chair and grabbed the stack of cards. “I’ll deal.”
After a few rounds, Kellen finally asked the question I knew had been on his mind since I’d gotten home. “How’s Joshua?”
“He’s not coming back,” Max and Drew replied simultaneously.
I spanned a straight of clubs in front of me. Kellen wasn’t the only expert at hiding pain. “It’s all good.”
“What did you and Corrie fight about anyway?” Drew was as bad as my dad about dropping subjects.
“Corrie got into law school,” Kellen replied. “In Baltimore.”
“What?” Now I joined Drew and Max’s unison, meeting my brother’s eyes across the table. “How’d she manage that?” I asked.
“Corrie’s really been trying hard. She studies a lot, and decided to go pre-law her sophomore year.” I knew that Kellen had always wanted to be an environmental lawyer, but Corrie’s desires were unknown to me. “I thought we’d both stay on at U of M for law school. Now she’s telling me she wants something new. I didn’t even apply to Baltimore.”
“I’m sorry,” I told Kellen and meant it. Although I knew nothing of my sister’s intentions, I knew what it was like to be stung by someone who was supposed to love you.
We played cards until well past midnight. Corrie didn’t come home till late afternoon the next day, after Kellen had left his perch on the couch.
When she came into the kitchen, I congratulated her for getting into law school.
She glanced at me with red-rimmed eyes. “I supposed Kellen told you all about it.”
I shrugged. “He’s hurt, but I understand that you have to do what you have to do.”
“Yeah.” Corrie sat down in the chair adjacent to mine. “What are you doing?”
“I’m filling out this application for journalism school.”
“What happened to marine biology?”
“I’m covering all of my options.”
“Well, good luck to you,” Corrie said, rising from the chair.
“You too!” I called as she walked out of the kitchen.