July 7, 2012

• chysanthemums and doubts…

  I spent the 4th with the kids, but I have to return them to H in the evening.  I’m hoping that he’ll be good to them tonight, and that they’ll have a fun evening together.  I know it will be better than mine.  The unease I feel is oppressive as the sky when storm clouds pile up and press close. 

  I pull into D’s driveway ten minutes early.  He doesn’t answer his landline, his cell, or his door, and I return to my car to decide what I’ll do next.  My first instinct is to head to the nearby bar, have one overpriced and crappy mixed drink, and then head home.  As I reach for the ignition, my phone rings.  It’s D, sounding a bit windblown and sheepish, “Hey, Honey!  What’s up?”  I don’t hide the chill in my voice when I remind him that he asked me to meet him at his house at 6:30 pm.  He apologizes; he’s been riding the motorcycle, and lost track of time.  When I ask how long I’ll have to wait for him, he tells me that he’s downtown.  It will be 20 minutes.  I stare at the place where the keypad used to be, and shake my head.  It’s 87 degrees out.

  I look at Devil Me who stage whispers, “LEAVE!  Tell him to FUCK OFF!”  I wave a hand at her.

  “Oh, and I have nothing booze-wise.  No mixers.  No alcohol,” he continues in an embarrassed tone.  He tells me that he’s on his way.  I hang up without saying goodbye.  For the next 18 minutes I hit the liquor store and the grocery store.  I tuck the receipts in the bags.  He calls me when I’m pulling in the driveway, “I’m home, Baby.”  I don’t know how I could have missed him on the Harley.  He must have hauled ass.  I grab the bags from the car, my mouth set in a grim line, tense.  My heart pulls away from me, like a dog pulling at a leash, afraid and wanting to return to the safety of the car.  I set the bag with the booze in the bed of his truck, and set the other grocery bag on the floor, and D looks puzzled for a moment, until he realizes that I mean to leave.

  I turn then, and follow my heart to my car.

  D runs past the bags, fear in his face and his voice when he calls to me.  When he gets close enough, I turn my eyes to him.  There’s no light, only menacing darkness.  He hesitates for the briefest moment before reaching for my arm, and then he pulls me back to the house.  When we pass the motorcycles, I notice the double seat on the Harley, “Did you have a passenger?”  My voice is ice.  He lets go of my arm, and looks into my cold, dark eyes, “No passengers.  I met friends for a drink.  That’s all.”  I step back, and the distress deepens in his voice as he reaches for me, “Please?”  I stare at him for a few moments, “What are the plans for tonight?”  He sighs, “No plans, but I promise you’ll see the best fireworks show, and from “The Island”.  I want you to have a good time.”  I look skeptical, and he moves closer.  Then he takes my hand and leads me inside.

  Devil me slaps her forehead with her palm. 

  He takes me into his arms, and looks into my eyes.  The compliments fall like rain, intent on softening my eyes and my heart.  Words fail, so he resorts to kisses. 

  Angel me whispers to Devil me in the corner, “She wonders why he tries so hard to keep her around.  I can see, even if she doesn’t.”  Devil me matches the chill in my eyes with her own, “If he’d tell her that he loved her….”

  *******

  He doesn’t though.  Something will hold him back from uttering those words, even as he takes her to “The Island”, even as he holds her close and rains kisses and compliments.  He offers her dinner, makes certain that she’s comfortable.  He wants everything to be perfect.  It isn’t.  He knows that.  He can’t thaw the ice in her eyes, and it bothers him, but he’s determined to wake up next to her in the morning.  Fire blooms in the night sky and lights her face in scarlet, blue, white, yellow, and green, reflecting in her eyes.  She looks like she did as a teenager, when he first fell for her.

  ********

  Indeed, the ice is beginning to melt a bit.  I start to consider staying overnight since he’s being so sweet and attentive.  Devil me leans in to whisper something, but my phone rings.  D doesn’t hide his annoyance, but I gesture him to be silent and answer.  It’s my oldest.  H is screaming in the background, sloppy drunk and violent.  The kids lock themselves in the bathroom and H screams that they better be calling me to pick them out because he’s throwing them out.  Why?  The dog got into the garbage and ate some bones from the chicken wings.  H screams outrageous things, “Your mom is busy f*cking the neighbor.  She stole my money and the car.  She stole my life.  She should be in jail.  She’s illegal.”  The kids are afraid.  I agree to pick them up, and tell them to put on shoes and start walking.  My heart pounds when I hang up, “They can’t stay there.  He’s so drunk that he’s not making sense.  He’s dangerous.  He’s thrown them out.”  D looks at me with a dazed expression.  He’ll start to put up an argument, but I wave it away, because this isn’t a drunk yelling at a grown up…he’s trying to beat the door down to get at his kids. 

  Devil me looks smugly satisfied, “Guess you’re off the hook, Honey.” 

  D is torn, “Once you get them home, settled….” his voice trails off.  I glare at him.  He licks his lips, clears his throat, “If they’re okay, if you still want to….I know you can’t spend the night….but if you still want to….I’d like you to come back over for a little while.”

  I will return, but I don’t spend the night.

  I will talk to him on the morning of the 5th, and I won’t hear back from him for 2 days.  I look at Devil me, “He’s with the one he really loves.  He’s with L.”  I shake my head, “I need to tell him that he needs to stop seeing me and just stay with her since he loves her so.”

  “So when will you tell him?” her words hang on the air, unheard except in my own mind.

  Soon.
  

   

   

  • 6:21 pm
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