A Kind of Freedom

They’d arranged to have it at the Fly, the piece of Audubon Park behind the zoo, and on the way they stopped at Castnet for fresh crawfish to boil. By the time they had set up the propane cooker, people started arriving, people that she hadn’t seen in months, not since Terry had gone and come. While she cut potatoes and onions to add to the boil, her girlfriends caught her up on who was hitting the clubs at night, who had stepped out with her boss, who had lost twenty pounds on that new three-day diet, and by the way, what was Jackie doing because she’d dropped that baby weight like it was hot. Everybody was so happy to see Terry. They must have heard talk about his absence, but they were polite enough not to ask questions, and Jackie didn’t even worry about rumors springing up, because in this new world she had accessed, it didn’t merely feel as if the rumors weren’t relevant, it felt as if the circumstances that had led to them had never taken place. Halfway into the party, once the crawfish had been dumped onto the newspaper and people were licking their fingers and asking what spices she’d added to the pot, Jackie realized her face cramped from smiling so hard.

After the cake was cut, her daddy beckoned her over for a family picture. And even seeing her sister didn’t cut into her joy. The two women talked briefly. Sybil tried to take the baby, but he cried to stay with his mother, and Jackie squeezed Terry’s hand as they lined up together to smile for the camera. While he was gone there had been so many occasions that called for pictures like these, and she’d been alone. Those instances had fomented her gratitude now.

When they were done, Jackie waved the Polaroid in the air, waiting for the faces to coalesce. Then she really studied it. It was a great picture of her, her skin glowed, she had lost weight, and she’d treated herself to a hair appointment the night before. Terry looked even more groomed than the day he’d come back: He had grown a goatee, he was going to the gym again, and his skin had smoothed out where there had been light splotches before. Then there was Sybil. Jackie’s sister stood between Mama and Daddy in the same position she’d occupied when they were still children. She wasn’t smiling, but she wasn’t angry either, only sad, if Jackie was reading it right. And Jackie felt a sharp pity for her, but not something she wanted to do anything about, like the emotion you’d feel for a beggar on the street.

Terry strode up to her as they were packing up.

“It went all right, huh?”

“Better than all right.”

“People loved that cake. I mean, I think it was the frosting that did it, the way those roses were coiled on the top just so.”

They laughed.

“Some of the boys want to go out from here.”

“Where to?” Jackie asked. She had hoped the comfort of the day would extend itself tonight, that they would go home, settle into a movie, and fall asleep together.

“Just to a quick dinner, I won’t be out long.” He yawned. “I’m tired from today as it is.” He paused. “It was so good to see people though,” he went on, “and I just want to see it through.”

She nodded. She understood that. She felt as if she’d stepped back into their old life, and back then if Terry had said he wanted to go out, she would have just nodded, not even asked where he was headed.

“Of course,” she said now, smiling, puckering her lips for a kiss. “Have fun.” She watched him walk away. Aunt Ruby approached her from behind and rubbed her back.

“You did the right thing, baby,” she said.

Letting him go? Jackie almost asked, but Aunt Ruby kept talking.

“You got to live your own life. Bad or good, it’s got to be yours.”

Jackie didn’t mean to stay up. It just happened, watching the old numbers fold into new ones on her digital clock. When Terry came back, it was 3:42. He stopped in the kitchen for water, tiptoed down the hall, undressed in the bathroom, then tried to slink into the bed.

“Where were you?” she asked with more edge than she knew was there, and she thought she saw him jump.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he started. “One thing led to another, the wait was too long at one place, so we went to a different one.”

“The food didn’t come out till after midnight?”

“Well, then we ran into my buddy from the VA. You remember Michael from the other day?”

“The one who got you started on those drugs,” she said. She knew it wasn’t him but she wanted to make her point.

He just breezed past it. “He wanted to take me out for a drink.”

She paused before she spoke, taking in the full meaning of what he’d just told her.

“You can’t be in a bar, Terry,” she said finally, trying to contain her voice so she wouldn’t wake the baby.

“No, no, not technically, and I told him that, I told him that a bunch of times, but I did all right, Jackie. I didn’t have a sip. They asked me and they asked me.”

“And that’s my point!” She was screaming now. “Today was a good day. We celebrated your only child’s first birthday, but suppose you go back next time and things aren’t going so well, you think your will is going to be as tough?”

“I’m not in the habit of frequenting bars, baby. You know that.” He reached out to nuzzle her cheek, and she pushed back on instinct.

“I don’t know anything, Terry. Things have changed now.” She paused. She sat up in bed, wringing her hands out as if they were dish towels.

“What’s changed, baby? Nothing’s changed. We celebrated the baby’s birthday, I went out for dinner, and now I’m home. Everything is the same as it was.”

She shook her head.

“What, baby? Name me one thing that’s changed.” His voice was coming out hot now, not angry but animated, as if he were arguing a case for a jury.

“Shh.” She nodded at the baby. “Look,” she said, “I just know that you made me some promises, and now they’re starting to break.”

He sighed. His conviction seemed to wilt at the sound of the word promises. He sat down, put his head in his hands.

“You’re right,” he whispered so low Jackie had to ask him to repeat it.

“What’s that?”

“You’re right,” he said. “I’m sorry, baby, you’re right, you’re right. I let you down.”

“You let yourself down.”

“I let us both down,” he said, and he reached for her hand, but she held it back. “But I just choked. I said no a few times, but they kept asking.”

“Michael knows your situation and kept asking? What kind of friend is that?”

“Not everybody understands, Jackie.”

“Well, then you need to be the one to explain it to them. It’s your life, after all. Their lives aren’t going to be affected in the least if you go back to using.” It was the first time she had referenced the threat out loud, the one that kept her up some nights, the one that was gripping her now.

“What was I going to say, Jackie?” He was getting worked up again. “That I couldn’t handle it? That I didn’t know if I had the strength? I spent all that time working with those guys trying to feel like I was as good, and what was I gonna do? Admit that they had me whooped?”

She didn’t say anything to that. She understood him, and she felt for him even, but it was almost as though it didn’t matter.

“Michael’s tried cocaine, you know,” he went on. “He had some on him tonight, but he never fell into it, and what does that say about me? That I couldn’t resist? What could I say that wouldn’t make me look weak?”

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