"Right, I get that. Your father loves to criticize everyone who crosses his path, but show him a mirror and he'll gladly bash you over the head with it. But still, you know you don't have to just … acquiesce."
"I know that, Charlie. And I don't always, but when I do, it's a choice. It's conscious. Their badgering doesn't typically faze me."
He gave me a look. "Judging by what I saw a little bit ago, I'd say that's untrue."
"That's different." My voice had shrunk, just a little. "Today … today it's different." I placed one sandwich half on another. "Anyway, they're my family, so if it means I have to be present to endure some vapid conversation, I can make that sacrifice. And when it comes to Mary, well, you have both done so much for me."
"You do so much for us. It only seems fair."
"But I enjoy this, you know? The kids, I mean. And I'm not sure what I want to do with my life yet, so it's really the perfect place for me to be. Our relationship is symbiotic."
He chuffed and said into his glass, "Even with Mary breathing down your neck?"
I shrugged and set the first sandwich on the pan with a sizzle. "She doesn't mean it."
He gave me a look.
"Honestly, I don't think she even realizes she's doing it. You know Dad and Beth. Maybe it's genetic and I just got skipped."
"Luckily."
I smiled, feeling the same. "In any event, I don't usually take it personally."
His eyes squinted in thought. "So you excuse them because you believe they don't mean to be assholes?"
"Basically." I flipped the sandwich.
"And why not tell them how you feel? Argue?"
"Because fighting with them is futile. There's no convincing them of anything. Their worlds are so small, and that's all they know. I mean, when was the last time you were able to convince my dad of anything?"
Charlie snorted. "Point taken." He sighed, pushing off the counter. "Well, you're a better person than I could ever hope to be."
"Hey, I'm not the one married to one of them," I joked. "You, sir, have the patience of a saint."
"Or the IQ of a carrot," he said with a smile. "Jury's still out. I'd better get back in there with drinks or they might invade the kitchen, and I feel like you've paid your dues today. Let me know if you need any help with the kids, okay?"
"I've got the kids if you can keep my family away from me for the night."
"Deal."
Mary stormed in. "What the hell, Charlie? What's taking so long?" She narrowed her eyes at me, and I turned my attention to the sandwiches.
Charlie sighed, a defeated sound. "I was on my way. Just got an email that required my attention, that's all."
"Whatever." She swiped her wine from his hand and turned to leave.
He shrugged and followed her out.
What I hadn't mentioned to Charlie was that he was another reason I didn't leave, besides the kids. He was my only ally in the house, and a thin one at that — he wasn't much more prepared to get his hands dirty than Mary was, though he at least offered.
They'd met years ago on an introduction by me. Charlie and I had a mutual friend who had not-so-stealthily nudged us together. I found him charming, tall and handsome, smart and funny, and the only surprise I felt when he'd asked me out was that I wasn't at all interested in entertaining the idea. He wasn't for me, the moment just another echo of Wade in my heart.
He was terribly gracious about the whole thing, and we remained friends. And when he'd met Mary, they'd started dating right away, then married not too long after.
It had never been strange between Charlie and me — we got along well, finding a little solace in each other given the family we now shared. And he'd always accepted and respected the boundaries between us. We were still friends, though it was mostly because we lived in the same house and were part of the same family.
Mary, on the other hand, had never been silent about her resentment. Charlie had never even held my hand, but she still seemed oddly jealous, though whatever feelings she harbored weren't enough for her to refuse my help. She found ways to dig at me all the same. I just chalked it up to her own feelings — it was less about me and more about her own insecurities. Talking to her about it had proved fruitless over the years. So we were where we were, and that was that.
"Wook, Ellie!"
I turned to see Sammy holding up his picture: oblong people with stick arms and giant, wide-set dots for eyes, and crazy hair that stuck up like they'd all been struck by lightning.
"Great job, buddy!"
"Can you put it on the fwidge?"
"Sure thing, you wanna do it?"
He lit up and slid off the chair, bounding to the fridge.
I plated their sandwiches and one for myself, sitting with them at the table while we ate and talked about colors and numbers, throwing in a song or two for good measure. Once we were finished, I cleaned up the kitchen and took the kids upstairs to bathe, taking my time, hoping it would be late enough that I could duck into my room. By the time I'd kissed the kids goodnight, I was exhausted. It had been a long day, and tomorrow would be even longer.
Everyone was still in the living room by the time I came back down, with the exception of Charlie, who had been able to sneak away, probably holing himself up in his office. My sisters and Dad sat on the couch together with rosy cheeks and smiles on their faces, laughing, probably at the expense of someone else.
Mary looked over. "Kids in bed?"
"They are. I just wanted to say goodnight. I've got to be up early."
She must have been feeling sentimental, because she smiled warmly. "Don't worry about the kids in the morning. I'll get them. You just go help with Rick."
Beth cooed. "You're so sweet to do that, Mary."
She waved her free hand, the motion sending the wine sloshing dangerously in its glass. "Oh, it's nothing. Get some rest."
"Come here, Elliot. Hug your old father." He wiggled his hand in the air impatiently, and I bent to hug him. The embrace was thin.
"'Night, Dad."
"See you in the morning," he said, dismissing me.
I left gladly, descending the stairs and slipping quietly into my sanctum.
I clicked on the light next to my bed and peeled off my clothes, walking naked to my bathroom to turn on the shower. As the steam rose and curled around me, I stood in front of the mirror for a long moment, glancing over my quiet features, my dark hair, small nose, lips like a rosy bow. The only thing loud about me were my eyes, dark and shining, heavy with all the things I didn't say, and I wondered if there would ever come a day where I'd let all those words free.
8
Here and Now
Here
(Not there, not far)
Now
(Not then, not ago)
You will find a way
To love.
* * *
-M. White
* * *
Wade
I had no idea how I was supposed to feel.
My room was cold, my hands rough against the pages as I sat in my bed reading Byron, for lack of anything more constructive to do.
I shouldn't have been reading it, but it was a torture I'd come to find comforting, pouring over the poems she used to read to me like a prayer, an homage. It was like the pain that came from running until my body ached and my heartbeat rushed in my ears, a welcomed pain. A reminder.
* * *