“Why?” I gasped.
“The stuff she told them, it’s all true. Not like she signed a waiver when she gave birth, you know. Guess she’s entitled to her slice of the cake.”
“Like hell. She’s entitled to exactly nothing.”
A smile ghosted across his lips. I could only just see it through his mess of hair. When I’d left, it had been neatly slicked back. Now, his fingers had obviously staged some sort of revolt. The need to reach out and slide those strands back behind his ear so I could see him was huge.
“Did you see it?” he asked. “What she said?”
“Just the bit where she was saying she was homeless while you two live in mansions.”
“Well you missed the best part.” His chin almost touched his chest. “I did use to yell all sorts of shit at her, throw stuff. Only ever hit her once, though.”
My throat tightened to the point of pain. “Why did you hit her, Jimmy?”
“I came home and she was cleaning the place out, ready to finally leave,” he said. “I was fourteen. Dave was busy over at Mal’s house, thank god. One of her stoner friends had a car loaded up in the yard with everything we had of value. Not that there was much, the TV, microwave, shit like that. She came walking out of the house carrying Dave’s acoustic guitar. He worked his ass off mowing lawns all summer to pay for that thing. It was just a cheap one from the hockshop, nothing really. But he’d wanted one for so long, thought it was the shit.”
“I bet he did.”
“I told her to put it back, told her that it would break Dave’s heart, but she didn’t care. Said he was spoiled, that he could do with some toughening up. Like either of us were spoiled living in that house with her, holes in our clothes, miracle if we got fed.” One side of his mouth drew up, but it wasn’t in a smile. “She backhanded me, told me to get out of the way. She was wearing a ring.” He pointed to a tiny star of a scar above his top lip, half hidden in stubble. “See?”
“I see.”
“I slapped her, snatched the guitar right out of her hands. I wasn’t that big yet, didn’t get my growth spurt until I was fifteen, but I was big enough.” He looked down at his palm. “Her cheek went bright red. It looked horrible, but she didn’t do anything. Just kept looking at the guitar, stunned that I had it now and she didn’t. Then her friend came, dragged her into the car and they were gone. Just like that, mom was a memory. Well, she came back eventually … unfortunately.”
He looked up at me, face pale. “Everything she said, it’s all true. No one needs to make shit up about me.”
“Did you ever tell David about this?”
“No, just would have upset him. He still thought she’d sober up one day, get her shit together and be a real mom. He was a dreamer even back then.”
“After everything she’d done?”
He didn’t respond.
“You protected him for years, didn’t you?”
“Someone had to. I’d tell him to go hide, soon as she started, didn’t want him to see. He had to have heard though, because sometimes she’d scream at the top of her lungs. Mom was a mean drunk. Usually on dope she’d just drift off, leave us alone, but get a bottle of bourbon into her and the whole fucking neighborhood knew about it.” He grabbed the back of his neck, face pained. “She’d slap me around. Couldn’t have her doing that to Dave. He was always the sensitive one. No big deal. Besides, she could be pretty fucking funny stumbling around.”
“Why didn’t you father do anything about it?”
“She’d be better when he was home, mostly. But he just pretended it wasn’t happening. Not like the signs weren’t all there, our garbage can would be overflowing with bottles, no food in the fridge ’cause she’d spent all the money on booze and shit.” He turned to me. “He loved her, Lena. Loved her so much that he chose her over us. That’s what love does to you, it fucks you up.”
“Not always. Look at David and Ev.”
He inhaled. “They’re happy for now. But one day, one of them will be like Mal’s dad, like my dad’s been since she left.”
“So it’s preferable to live your life alone and unhappy?”
“Better than winding up broken. Better than breaking someone.”
I didn’t know what to say.
“First pills I ever took were stolen from mom’s stash. It was my great big fuck you to her.” His laughter was bitter. “If she was going to tell me how like her I was all the time, then I figured I might as well live up to it. Look how well that turned out. I am just like her, Lena.”
“No, you’re not. You’re clean now, you beat it.”
“The shit I’ve done over the years.” For a moment his eyes closed tight. Then he went back to studying my foot, reshuffling the cold wet ice pack. “All the things she said to me … she was right. I’ll never be clean, not really. Always be an addict at heart.”
“Jimmy, that’s just not true. You know it’s not. You did the work, you got clean.” I knew a little about people saying stuff, wounding you with words. The scars lingered a long, long time.
His lips were thin and white.
“Have you ever told anyone?”
A sharp short shake of his head. “No.”
“You can trust me, you know? I’m not going to turn on you or think less of you, that’s never going to happen.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
I cocked my head. “Did you just call me a liar?”
He pushed back his hair (finally), eyes wary. The man was in no rush to speak because he kept me waiting a long time.
“Well?” I prompted.
“This is one of those traps women use. No matter what I say you’re gonna chew my ass out over it.”
“I’m just asking for a little faith from you.” I stared back at him every bit as carefully as he was at me. “Whatever that woman said to you is utter and complete bullshit, Jimmy. You know that. So why are you still letting it live inside of you?”
He gently rubbed the palm of his hand against the flat of my foot. “Break something badly enough, there’s no point trying to fix it.”
“That’s what you tell yourself?”
“That’s the truth.”
“Hey, no. It isn’t.” I reached out, grabbing hold of his arm. Through the fine fabric of his shirt his muscles were strained, his skin hot. For over twenty years, he’d been carrying around all this pain and anger, self-hatred. The two people responsible for loving and caring for him when he was small and defenseless had failed him miserably. Little wonder he was so defensive, he’d been taught to expect attack, to trust no one.
“You are a good person, Jimmy. You’re a good man.”
“Lena.” He stared at my hand.
“She doesn’t know who you are today. I do. So who are you going to believe?”
His mouth opened and I waited some more.
Yes, he was talking to me but I needed more, I needed an in with him. The pain he carried around had to end. Few deserved freedom from their past as much as Jimmy did. He’d worked so hard, turned his entire life around.
His jaw shifted and maybe, just maybe this time …
Someone rapped at the door, the same one I’d so utterly failed to break down. Of course they did, fuck the universe and all it entailed. Though honestly, what were the chances Jimmy would ever take that final step and trust me?
Unlikely.
No, I couldn’t afford to think like that. I had to get through to him.
A neat middle-aged woman with short dark hair strode in, bag in hand. David followed behind her, gaze shifting between me and his brother with open curiosity. “This is Courtney. She’s here to check out Lena’s foot.”
“That was fast.” The doctor. Crap. My stupid ankle had ruined everything. I really needed to not try storming the castle by beating up innocent doors, in future. But if I hadn’t, if I’d just been content to sit outside, locked out, Jimmy wouldn’t have told me as much as he had. I’m certain some distance had been covered. Exactly what it meant, I wasn’t quite sure.
Jimmy lifted my leg off his lap, slipping out from underneath it. “She tried to kick the door down.”
Dr. Courtney’s eyes cut to me.
I shrugged. “I had something I had to say to him. He wouldn’t open it.”
She instantly turned judgey eyes onto Jimmy. Yay for the sisterhood!
“It wasn’t my fault,” he said, pouting.
“I’ve been called to lots of lover’s tiffs over the years, but this is a new one,” the Doctor said.
“Oh, we’re not involved,” I said.
The good Doctor snorted and got busy feeling up my foot. Ever so not very carefully, she twisted and turned it, this way and that. I yowled and winced as needed. Finally, she pronounced the verdict of a sprained ankle. I declined any meds for the pain, not wanting them in the house. So, over-the-counter ibuprofen was diagnosed to stop the swelling and a highly fashionable boot thing would be arriving within the hour. At least this would get me out of jogging. Go silver lining on that grey cloud.
She informed Jimmy he’d be sent a bill and left.