Marionette (11 page)

Oddly enough, Jess has had death threats against her. She’s in charge of a local gay group. With all of the Amendment 2 stuff going on right now, she’s been in the public eye. The amendment is about gay rights in Colorado. One asshole—‌a fat, ugly motherfucker—‌threatened her. She can’t prove it was him because he’s smarter than he looks. You should see all of the hair on his neck, the way it just pokes out of his collar. You can’t differentiate the hair on his chest from his long scraggly beard. Like I said, he’s revolting. She received a letter that read: “Fucking die dike.”

Yeah, he actually spelled it wrong! Jess laughed it off, but still reported it to the police. They didn’t laugh about it. For weeks, the police followed Jess to and from work. After the dust settled, everything went back to normal. It never fazed Jess. She’d say, “Oh, don’t worry, that guy knows he can’t touch me.”

At first, when I started letting Jess in somewhat, she laughed at the idea that my own parents might kill me or lock me up. The more she’s come to know me, and the more she’s seen of my family from afar, the less she’s laughed. That doesn’t mean that Jess is afraid of my parents—‌she isn’t afraid of anything—‌but that she’s tired of seeing me hurt. One of the reasons Jess wants to be super-successful is so we can run away together and never have to see my folks again.

I remember the first time she saw bruises on me. We weren’t having sex back then, but we weren’t completely innocent either. When she saw the marks on my ribcage (I might have had a broken rib), she immediately wanted to call the cops. “You can’t call the cops on rich people,” I told her. I didn’t want to end up in a mental asylum: that’s where they would have put me. My parents had threatened me on many occasions, not because they suspected I was gay, but simply because it was a power they had over me. I don’t even know how they came up with the idea. Some parents send their kids to military schools, but mine wanted me to be declared loony.

In public, everyone thought my parents loved me. I was forced to attend many public functions. Perhaps some people suspected that things at home weren’t so cheery, but most didn’t. You always hear about people who say, “I didn’t know he was such an asshole behind closed doors.”

My thought was always
: Really? You didn’t know? Did you never notice how, when you disagreed with him, anger flashed through his eyes like a rocket. You didn’t know that, with that kind of rage, sometimes people get hurt. That he couldn’t always control it? Or that at home, he didn’t have to control it?

Yeah, you didn’t know.

Jess never attended these functions. Sometimes, she would see a picture in the paper and her blood would boil. Not about seeing me—‌she got a kick out of that—‌but she hated seeing my parents smiling and acting normal when she knew they were beasts. And Jess didn’t even know the whole story. At college, I never worried that my roommates would see me in the paper. They weren’t exactly newspaper-reading types. And if they did read the paper, they were too young to care about the society page. Society page—‌please, what a waste of space! Only the rich wanted to know what other affluent people were up to. Trust me, if I didn’t need to be at a function, my parents wouldn’t drag me along, and I never asked to go. I only went to the “must-be-seen-at” functions.

I’m not saying we were the Kennedys of the West, either, just that my parents are loaded.

What does my father do? Good question. I’ve never figured it out. I know the company he works for, and I can point out the building from the interstate. That’s about it, though. When you don’t give a crap about a person, why waste time finding out more about them?

Most people, when they hear my name, don’t know anything about me, and I do my best to keep it that way. I’ve never wanted privileges; I know the price. I’m sure there are nice rich folks in the world. Not my folks, though.

* * *

When I walked into Jess’s apartment, the lights were off, but I saw her outline on the couch and I could hear the clink of ice in her glass. Jess loved vodka tonics but rarely indulged.

I sat my bag down by the front door and flipped the light on.

“Don’t!” She bolted off the couch and switched the light back off.

“Jess, what’s going on?” I had to admit her behavior unnerved me, but then her giggle put me at ease.

“Oh, Paige, don’t get your panties in a bunch. I’m just not in the mood for having the lights on, that’s all.” She sauntered back to the couch and resumed drinking.

“Okay.”

We didn’t often sit in the front room of her apartment with all of the lights off.

“Do you want me to light the fire? It’s a little cold in here.” I shivered to emphasize my point.

“Nah. Grab the comforter from my bed and we can snuggle out here.”

After bumping through her dark apartment, I situated myself on the couch with Jess, both of us under the comforter.

“How was dinner with Mel and Wesley?”

Something about her tone sounded off to me. “Um, it was okay.” I tried to stare into her eyes, but could only make out the outline of her face. “Are you okay?”

“Me? Yeah, why?”

“Well, you left a message on my machine saying you
had
to see me tonight and now we are sitting in the pitch dark. It seems a little odd.”

“Oh, that. I just wanted to see you.” She paused. “I had a hard day at the office today.”

I wasn’t positive, but I could have sworn she made quotation marks with her fingers when she said the word office. It reminded me of Weasel’s comment about her internship.

“So, I think Weasel thinks you’re a kept woman.”

“What!”

Her alarm surprised me. “I think he thinks I pay all of your bills.”

“Oh, really. Why do you say that?” I had her complete interest now.

“He asked if your internship was a paying gig. I said I didn’t know, but I thought so since you never wanted for money, and he scoffed at that remark.”

I felt Jess bristle and I patted her leg. “Don’t worry about what Weasel says. He’s a jerk, and a used-car salesman to boot.”

Her body relaxed beside me. “Besides, wouldn’t it be kinda cool to be a kept woman? You know that if I could I’d make sure you lived in the lap of luxury.”

Jess leaned against my shoulder and I felt her tension melt away. “I do love your innocence, Paige. Please don’t ever change.”

The vodka tonics kicked in soon, and Jess was sound asleep. I, however, was wide awake. Slipping out of the apartment, I went for a drive. I hadn’t seen the sunrise since I left for school, and I had a special place where I liked to watch it alone.

The first few times I had done this when staying at Jess’s place, she flipped out. I have no idea what thoughts went through her mind when she woke up to find me missing. I didn’t help the matter by not leaving a note. Jess hates feeling abandoned. I learned to leave a note and she learned that I wouldn’t ever tell her where I went. She didn’t like it, but she gave up asking.

When I crawled back into bed, Jess, half-awake, asked if I had taken one of my mysterious drives. I answered in the affirmative and kissed the back of her head. She nestled up close to me, and the warmth of her body eased me into sleep.

Chapter Ten

Liddy appeared tense. She sat down and tapped her pencil on her notepad. I didn’t say a word. I wanted to see what she was up to. Would she say that she couldn’t help me? Would Jess buy that? Or would I have to find a new therapist?

Let’s see, I counted on my fingers. This was my fifth session. So that meant I had forty more appointments to fulfill my promise since school isn’t in session every week of the year.

“Paige…” her voice cracked and she hesitated. “I’m wondering about your arms. How did you cut your wrists? Horizontal? Or vertical?” She made two separate cutting motions on her own wrist to demonstrate.

“Why?” I fidgeted in my chair. Was she going to mock my ineptitude?

“I want to know how serious you were at the time.”

“You want to know if it was a cry for help.” If I’d had anything in my hands, I probably would have thrown it against the wall.

“That’s not what I’m saying. I just need to know.”

“Okay.” I unbuttoned my shirt cuffs and slowly rolled up each sleeve. The narrow, long jagged scars were getting fainter—‌no longer so red and inflamed. Sometimes, I didn’t notice them, but I wondered if that was because I saw them in the shower every day.

Liddy casually looked, keeping her expression judgment-free. I think it surprised her that I had revealed my actual scars instead of just describing them. I had promised Jess I would do my best to open up more.

“Thank you.” Liddy settled back into her chair. “I know that wasn’t easy for you.”

I looked away, wishing there was a window I could stare out. “This isn’t my favorite part of the week.”

“I know. At first, I didn’t think you would let me in at all. You are so rigid when you sit there. This takes guts, and I want you to know it hasn’t gone unnoticed.” She made sure I was looking at her. “You are extremely brave, Paige.”

Brave? Oh boy, she didn’t know anything. Nothing! I was a coward. A chickenshit coward.

“Who found you?”

“Jess.”

“Who’s Jess?”

I shook my head, “Just Jess.”

“Okay, we’ll go with that for now. Why did you do it?”

I started to laugh. The “Why?” question again. If I knew any of the whys would I be in this chair? “I was having a bad day, I guess.”

Her scrunched forehead told me that wasn’t the right answer. “I don’t think it was just one bad day. But let’s take this slow.”

Perking up in my chair, I started to devise a plan that would allow me to drop one piece of information over the next forty sessions. Maybe therapy wasn’t so hard after all.

Liddy continued, “I don’t expect you to have all of the answers, and I don’t expect you to open up and tell me everything all at once. In fact, I never expected to see your scars.”

The scars were easier to live with; I just had to wear long sleeves and
voil
à, I could forget about them. Mostly.

“Does that mean we can call it a day?” I quipped.

“Not exactly. But I do love your sense of humor.” She looked down at her notepad. Was she intentionally avoiding eye contact? “Do your parents know?”

“No. I kept it quiet.” I didn’t add,
Or they would have locked me up and thrown away the key.

“The first time I saw your name, I wondered if you were connected with the Alexanders who are in the paper from time to time.”

“Yes.” It was me who avoided eye contact now.

“I’m going to ask you once: do you think you need twenty-four-hour supervision?”

“Really?
Now
you’re asking?” I scoffed. Five sessions in before she thinks of that question. University counselors are quacks. Good! Stupid people are easy to manage. I looked her in the eyes. “No. I don’t.”

“Good. We agree. My answer may have been different if I had seen you in the hospital right after the incident. But you have strength about you, Paige.”

Why was she feeding my ego?

“I don’t feel strong, but I promised”

“Your word is important to you, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” Why didn’t she have a window in this office? I was suffocating.

“And you gave your word to Jess?”

I wanted to shout out: You can dance around Jess all you want, but I’m not going to spill the beans, Doc! But I didn’t.

“Yes.”

“Do you think your parents would lock you up?”

I didn’t like her line of questioning. It was too close to the truth.

I sneered. “Shit no. My mom would just want me out of her hair—‌college seems to work fine for her. My dad wouldn’t want the news to hit the papers. Besides, he’d call me a copycat.”

She seized on that word, and I immediately regretted it. I had said too much! Again.

“Copycat? What do you mean? Has someone in your family committed suicide?”

I looked at her and sighed. Way to go, idiot. Did she know? No. She couldn’t know. Only four people knew, and I was one of them. Abbie and my father didn’t care, and the other person was dead. Liddy couldn’t know. But I had let the cat out of the bag. Pull it together, Paige, or you
will
be locked up.

“Not successfully. My mom tried years ago.”

“After the Lego incident.”

I was starting to loathe the word incident. My life seemed to be made up of “incidents.”

“No, after her second surgery. Before the first one, she thought everything would go back to normal, or at least close to normal; it didn’t. Then she needed another surgery, and that one was even more painful and the recuperation took a lot longer. I actually don’t think she recovered from the second one.”

“What happened?”

“I was late. I was supposed to be home right after school, but I was running late.” I removed my long-sleeved shirt. The air was stifling in here. Did they have the heat on? Did Liddy plot this so I would have to strip down to a T-shirt?

I let out a long, audible sigh. “I can remember it like it was yesterday. Why is it so much easier to remember the bad than the good?”

Liddy must have thought my question was rhetorical, or she flat-out refused the bait. Maybe she wasn’t that much of a nitwit after all. So far, I was proving to be the bigger blockhead. Why had I let that comment slip out? Now I would have to explain because Jess had told me to answer all of Liddy’s questions. I wondered if Jess had contacted Liddy to supply her with the correct subjects to explore. I wouldn’t put it past her. Who could blame her really? She did find me in her tub, bleeding to death. A few more minutes and…

Liddy cleared her throat.

“Oh, sorry, I was wandering.” I tapped my head. “I realized that I was really late and I knew I had to rush home to give my mom her next dose of pain meds. I don’t know if this actually happened, but now I remember feeling that something was terribly wrong.

“When I got home, I slammed my body into the front door and hauled ass to the back of the house to her room. At first, I breathed a sigh of relief. She looked to be sleeping so peacefully, more peacefully than I had seen her sleep in some time. Usually, by that time of day, she’d be awake, barking at me for her pills.