Thursday, June 3, 2010
THE ROAD TO WHERE we were had been bumpy. That was an understatement. But maybe good things don’t just come to those who wait. Maybe good things also come to those strong enough to fight when it looked like a losing battle. Those who never gave up.
And when I missed him, all I had to do was remind myself that.
Talking to him on the phone always made me feel better, even though we were miles apart. There was something so amazing about telling him I wanted to see him, and him saying that he’d come. Just like that.
It was surreal how things were lining up the way I‘d dreamed they would.
By this time the next night, I’d have signed divorce papers. It wasn’t that I was excited about getting a divorce. It wasn’t like that at all. I never should have married Grant to begin with. I still felt guilty about doing that to him. To our families. And to Casey. It wasn’t until recently when I’d realized I’d been hurting myself just as much.
Seeing Dr. Rex helped tremendously. I finally sensed I was doing things for the sole purpose of making me happy. And all along, those were the same things that made Casey happy too. How much time had I wasted trying to make Grant happy when he wasn’t making me feel the same way?
I was a coward, but not anymore.
Me: Tell me you love me and I’ll go to sleep.
Casey: I fucking love you.
I giggled.
Me: You have a way with words. I fucking love you too. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.
Casey: Go to sleep and it will get here faster.
I yawned and looked at the time on my phone. It was after eleven and I had a big day on my horizon. I’d taken the next day off work to help my mom get things ready for the party, but I still had a long day of running here and there picking things up for her. Which was perfect. The day would fly fast and I would be counting down the minutes.
As my eyes grew heavy I sent him one final message.
Me: We’ve so fucking got this.
The next morning I felt like I was on top of the world. Casey called early telling me he had to get a move on, but he wanted to say good morning first. We were kind of making me a little sick.
It was awesome.
I had to pick up Reggie from the airport and while I waited by baggage claim, I kept imagining Casey walking down the path from the arrival gates instead of my brother. While I was there, I called the caterers and confirmed everything for the next day and added a few more servers. Now that Casey was coming, I didn’t feel like spending the entire night in the kitchen.
It was a small party of only about sixty, but that was a lot when they were all in a few small rooms.
The movers had already come, packed, and moved a lot of their furniture. My parents had a nice-sized home, but there was just too much stuff in there for it to be a functional space for a party. My mom finally agreed to my idea of having them moved out for the night, when I told her the furniture would be safer in storage for the weekend. Much safer than in everyone’s way. And since she had a penchant for red wine, she’d agreed.
We had some small tables brought in and removing everything worked perfectly for having a band out on their deck. We’d leave the French doors open, allowing both music and guests to float in and out.
According to my list, as soon as I dropped Reggie off at Mom and Dad’s, I’d have just enough time to go back to my apartment and take a quick shower before going to Grant’s.
It was odd, that just out of the blue he decided he would sign, but I wasn’t about to argue.
I wanted it over. The sooner the better.
“There’s my brat,” Reggie said as he hugged me. “So lover-boy is coming over tonight, huh?”
I’d told him on the phone earlier about Grant signing the papers and how Casey was flying in to come to the party. But only after he changed the subject when I asked if he’d seen anything of Nora. I was unrelenting. Call it sister’s intuition, but I knew there was something there.
“Yeah, I’m a little nervous.”
“I would be, too. Did you tell Mom and Dad he was coming over?”
“No. I didn’t know what to say and they’re busy with this party. I figured I’d just see how it goes when I bring him tonight first.”
“All right. So where is he? Are we picking him up, too?”
“No. He’s getting a car and meeting me there after I finish up with Grant. Where’s your date, beefcake?” I teased, knowing he didn’t have one. But I was in a great mood and teasing him was fun.
Turns out my joke wasn’t funny. His face got serious and he started walking toward the exit.
“Chicago,” he mumbled. He kept talking as he walked, but I couldn’t make out what he was saying under his breath. It sounded like he was chanting something. I guess everyone has their own complicated stuff.
I’d leave him alone. I understood complicated. I was fluent.
On the way to Mom and Dad’s, I told him about the difference we’d witnessed in Shane over the past few months. The working out. The new apartment. He finally moved out last month. Reggie and Shane didn’t talk a whole lot after Shane married Kari, but I think they emailed some. And I hoped they’d get closer again.
After Shane’s divorce—and frankly for some time before that—he’d changed from a fun-loving guy into a quiet introvert. I think Reggie felt bad for not being there for him and I’d had my own problems taking center stage.
Shane and I had spent a lot of time together last fall after I left Casey but not as much in the past six months. Then it was more of a buddy system than anything. We were both miserable and it was nice having someone to be with without having to explain everything.
I was surprised when Reggie said he’d noticed a shift too, saying that Shane was thinking about starting up a small business and had asked him for advice. Neither of us knew what the catalyst for it was, but Shane was looking and acting like a man with a mission. We agreed that whatever the shift had been, we weren’t going to question it.
I dropped Reggie off and headed straight to my apartment.
There were so many things going through my mind as I showered.
I walked myself through the next few hours and how I saw them going.
I’d go to Grant’s house—it was always Grant’s house—and in my imagination he was civil and polite, but brief. He would sign and we’d have an awkward hug and pledge to be friends. Of course, I had at one time cared for him, but in reality, I don’t know if I’d ever miss him after the divorce.
Looking back, I never missed him. Ever.
I never thought about calling him. I never wondered what he was doing. I never wished he was with me. But before Casey, I didn’t even know those types of thoughts existed. Thoughts that were so consuming. So intoxicating.
It took falling in love with another man to make me see I didn’t even know what love was to begin with. It definitely wasn’t what I had with Grant.
As I shaved my legs, I thought about how surreal it was to be having dinner with Casey, my brothers, and my parents. True enough, I was giddy with the thoughts of bringing him back to my apartment—after the impromptu meet-my-parents’ dinner. But I was elated he wanted to meet my family and I wanted to show him off.
It felt so right.
I toweled off and smiled at myself in the mirror. I’d done it. I wasn’t sure what it was, but a feeling of peace cleaned away every last knot of anxiety that had set up residence in my stomach over the past few years.
I fantasized about Casey shaking my dad’s hand. My dad looking at me and seeing me smile. Then he’d say to Casey, “It’s nice to finally meet you.” Happy tears sprang to my eyes as I imagined my mother telling me how handsome she thought he was. Because, of course, she’d be just as smitten as I.
And it wasn’t like it was the first time he’d ever been to my apartment—hell, he owned the damn thing—but with all the weekend’s excitement, it felt like a miracle I’d be spending it with him. Sharing it with him. Making new memories where we laughed and smiled.
No fighting.
No worrying.
No struggle.
No leaving and crying.
My current dreams were coming true and it was time to start making new ones.
I knew how Casey felt about marriage. However, I had kind of a bad run as a wife, but considering he was the man I was bad with, maybe he was cutting me some slack.
Dinner wasn’t going to be anything fancy, but on more than one phone call that week, Casey mentioned me wearing a skirt the next time we saw each other. That was an easy enough wish to grant. I knew what he was thinking and I’d be reaping the benefits later.
I decided on a maxi dress. That counted as a skirt in my book. I let my hair dry naturally, only fixing the stubborn front pieces. I applied only blush and some mascara. The best part about summer was the tan. And thankfully, so far, I’d been outside more. A lot of my color came from being in San Francisco where I’d visited him every few weekends.
I sprayed a little perfume on my neck and gave myself one last look. My reflection proved that happy looked good on me and I felt beautiful.
With my purse and my extra set of divorce papers, I was ready. In the event Grant either didn’t have them or wanted to keep his copy, I had a spare. I was a little behind schedule, but it would be fine.
I drove to the house I’d lived in so briefly and wondered how long I would have lived there had I never met Casey. Would I be happily married—or at least what I knew of happy—to Grant? Would we have been planning children? Would we have ended in a divorce anyway? The more I thought about it, the more I believed yes, eventually our marriage would have failed. Maybe Casey was just a catalyst, one that thankfully opened my eyes so much sooner.
I felt jittery, like I’d had too much coffee, but attributed it to nerves. I took a few deep breaths and walked up the sidewalk, stopping outside the door to knock.
It wasn’t my home.
I waited.
Then I heard Grant come down the stairs near the door.
“Hello, Blake,” he greeted and stepped back for me to come in. I stopped only feet inside the door. I wasn’t staying long. “Welcome home,” he said and shut the door.
If that was supposed to be a joke, it wasn’t funny. I fought the urge to roll my eyes and let it roll off my back. I didn’t have time to get into a pissing match, I had a dinner to get to, and Casey would be showing up at my parents’ any minute.
“Hi, Grant. Thanks for agreeing to sign the papers,” I said doing my part, for polite and civility’s sake.
“I haven’t signed them yet. They’re upstairs.” He probably had them in the room I’d been using as an office. His office now, I presumed.
“That’s fine. I can wait down here while you get them,” I said.
His face went from almost friendly to annoyed.
“You can’t stay a little while?” It was a question, but sounded like an accusation.
I looked around and then noticed a wine glass on the table, an empty tumbler and candles lit. My muscles tensed, but I remained calm.
“I thought we could have a drink. For old time’s sake,” he said motioning for me to follow him to the dining area.
“No, thanks. I’m going to my parents’.”
He stepped closer and something inside me regretted not bringing in my phone. I left it in the car. He took another step closer and I wished I’d let Casey come with me.
His hand came up to move my hair and I moved out of his reach. What was he thinking?
“Don’t. I just want the papers and I want to leave. Please.”
“Was I bad to you?” He’d been drinking. In his nearness, I could smell it. I didn’t even know who he was anymore. The Grant I dated rarely drank, especially at home.
I slowly took a step back, needing some distance. My heart rate was beginning to beat overtime. Nervousness was turning to fear. I just needed to stay long enough to get what I came for.
“No, you weren’t bad to me,” I affirmed. I would say anything I needed, if it meant he’d sign the damn papers and I could go. I’d already been there longer than I wanted.
“Was I bad in bed?” he said and, again, leaned into my space. “I didn’t please you?”
My stomach rolled. Fuck the papers. He was getting served Monday. To hell with this.
“I think I’m going to go. This was a mistake.” I didn’t need it. I probably deserved it, but I had better things to do.
Casey was waiting for me. He was meeting my mom and dad.
“No. I think you’re going to stay and tell me what I did that was so bad you had to fuck another guy the whole time we were married.” That was the moment I started getting really scared. Not uncomfortable. Scared. My instincts screamed to go. And it felt like my body was ready to run at any moment. And because of that, I was leaving.
I didn’t say anything else. I simply turned on my heels for the door. But before my hand found the knob, he had my arm.
“You can’t leave without your precious papers, Blake. Your divorce papers.”
His hand squeezed around my arm. My eyes filled with tears, less from the pain he was inflicting and more for the sadness I felt having made him that way.
My voice shook as I said, “I’m sorry. I don’t need the papers.”
I needed Casey. I needed to leave.
“Oh, you changed your mind? That’s even better. We’ll rip them up.”
I peered into his eyes and saw a total stranger. Though the things he said were from anger, his voice still sounded eerily complacent, like a robot. And now it wasn’t a joke. It was scaring the fuck out of me.
“Please, just let me go,” I asked and brought my free hand up to where he was holding me and tried to pull him off. That sentence spoke to so much more than just my arm, and he heard it too.
“I’m not sure if I’m ready to let you leave just yet. Let’s go get those papers.” He pulled and my instincts told me to pull back, and my body acted like it was trying to sit. My legs locked and yanked, but he held me tighter.
Then he began to pull me up the stairs.
“Stop. Please, just stop. Please. I want to go. Why are you acting like this? This isn’t like you,” I pleaded.
“You want to go? This isn’t like me? I gave you everything. You didn’t have to work and travel like you were. You could have had a good life here with me. We could have had a family.” He aggressively wrenched my arm, but I still resisted, trying to hold my footing below the first step. “But, no. I wasn’t good enough, so you fucked someone else. So this is the new me, Blake. Maybe you’ll like me better this way.”
He’d managed to pull me up two steps. The skin on my arm throbbed as he pressed flesh against bone.
I had to stop crying and figure out what to do. I couldn’t concentrate on my arm. I needed to get away. He was crazy.
Step after step, he went backward, jerking me as he went, his force only waning when I struggled against his hold. I fought and pulled back, almost bringing us both down. He stopped, grabbed a fistful of my hair, and heaved me up toward him.
I silently screamed and surrendered a little ground. He trudged me up a little farther by the head.
“Does he pull your hair? Maybe that’s what women want these days. Is that it?”
I couldn’t suppress my sobs and my focus began to blur. I just wanted to go to my mom and dad’s. I should never have come. I didn’t know he would be like this. I didn’t see it coming.
Casey is waiting for me. What if he thinks I changed my mind? What if he leaves?
True horror gripped me with that thought.
My mind scrambled.
I went a little easier. Grant was actually pulling some of my hair out and it hurt like hell. I could feel it tear from my scalp lock by lock. It burned as it ripped from me.
“See? That’s better. I think you like it. Maybe when we get up here we’ll just call your parents and tell them you’re not coming to dinner. Then, you’ll be free to have a drink with me. After we rip up those papers we don’t need,” he said as we topped the flight of stairs.
“I’m not staying here,” I defiantly squeaked out. “Just let me go. Please.” I tried to pull back again, but his grip was unrelenting.
“Oh, I think you’ll do what I want to do for a change tonight, Blake.”
I needed to hit him. I’d known that the whole time. I was just afraid he’d hit back. Would he really hit me? But I didn’t have a choice. Something told me if he got me to the very top of the stairs it would only get worse. I swung up at him and only hit him weakly in the arm.
“You like to hit, too?” He jerked my head up so he was staring into my eyes. The venom inside his was terrifying.
He wasn’t concerned for me.
He wasn’t worried about me.
He only cared about proving a point and making me pay for what I’d done.
This was about his pride, not his love for me.
There was no love for me.
Then I felt his fist across my cheek and it blinded me. I saw stars as every nerve in my cheek roared in agony. I’d never been hit before. And since he held my head with a fist of my hair, the force of the blow also sent searing pain through my scalp. I felt skin rip away from skin. I’d never been in pain like that and my senses all at once began to shut down.
He was yelling, but I couldn’t hear.
He was so close, but I couldn’t smell the vile liquor anymore.
He was a monster, but he was fading.
I was going to pass out.
Casey is going to think I’m not coming. He’s going to leave me.
A fleeting surge of adrenaline spiked through my system. I had one more shot. I didn’t overthink it, there wasn’t time. I lunged forward, taking him off guard since he was pulling me. Head first into his thigh—which was the closest part of him I could reach and I bit him. I bit through his jeans until I felt his skin break in my mouth. Until I tasted blood. Metallic and salty.
“You fucking bitch!” he screamed, as I twisted my head back and forth.
He had to let me go.
In my attack, he’d released my hair and arm to smack and hit my head and face. I let up.
I was free, but too quickly, to urgent to get away, I leaned back. My feet slipped and went backward.
And then there was nothing.