Chapter 10
Taylor
Cola got me through the next few weeks, although I had to keep taking more to feel the effects, and the more I took the more paranoid I became. Like marijuana, only worse.
Andy sent me to a local clinic to get tested for diseases. I went, not knowing what in the world the tests were for, but found out soon after that I contracted Chlamydia. Already. I didn’t even know what Chlamydia was.
“That’s okay,” Andy told me over the phone. “We’ll shoot with Gianna for a few days. Take your antibiotics and you’ll be back to work in no time.”
What a star, I thought. Thrilling lifestyle.
To cope with the good news, I spent the night with Cola. But I got so fearful of Mom finding me that I duct-taped clothes to my windows so no one could see in. I taped and taped and taped my entire apartment until I ran out of tape.
I didn’t want anyone to kidnap me. And the more I taped, the more I knew that the trees outside my window were spying on me and telling Mom everything. After I finally covered every window, I looked at my television and knew it had some kind of video camera lodged in there, watching my every move. So I draped a blanket over it.
“Yes,” I whispered.
After outsmarting the spies and checking the lock on my front door a hundred times, I curled up in a ball on my bed and thought about everything. I thought about Taylor and Sadie. I compared their lives, wondering who was dealt the worst cards.
“Get out of this,” Taylor said.
“No, you need the money. You need Andy. You’re nothing without him,” Sadie argued back.
The two of them bickered aloud until I realized I was having a conversation with myself. I laughed so hard I literally peed my pants. The pee burned so bad because my body had been so torn and stretched. I looked at the ceiling as my laugh turned to weeping. Life felt like one of those mirror mazes at the amusement park. Nowhere to turn but to Andy, and he only shoved me in front of a camera so he could make money off me.
I pulled my damp legs to my chest and cried like I did when I saw Daddy’s dead body in a casket. My weeping continued even when my eyes had no more tears to give. So I wept with dry eyes until I fell asleep.
But even my dreams tormented me.
THE NEXT MORNING I WOKE UP CRAVING COLA, BUT STAYED in bed and stared at the ceiling instead. Andy called several times, but I didn’t pick up. Instead I thought about running away. I wanted to stop doing drugs, stop making porn movies, and get back to being Taylor, the girl no one knew. But I thought for sure Andy would kill me if he found me. So I needed a plan, a good plan.
Yeah, I just didn’t know what that plan would be. I didn’t know anyone else. No one cared. Mom hadn’t picked up her phone since I left, except that one time her boyfriend hung up on me. And after being fondled by one too many of her boyfriends, I didn’t care to go back there.
I looked around the room for an answer.
And on my dresser, five feet away, Cola begged to drown my sorrow.
“I can take you above life, make everything golden,” Cola said.
No, no. I couldn’t. But I wanted to. I really, really wanted to.
I stood and walked to the dresser. Cola stared up at me, longing to be inside of me, like everyone else. But no one, not one person, ever wanted to be inside my heart.
I snatched Cola from my dresser. “Why do you use me?” I cried. “Why do you pretend to care? What kind of best friend are you?”
I threw Cola on the floor and collapsed onto my knees. “Why do I still want you? Why do I still want Andy?” I pounded the floor, crying until I couldn’t breathe.
Everything felt numb, from my hands to my heart. Life seemed pointless, but I needed to keep going. I couldn’t let Andy down. Maybe, I thought, maybe he’ll let me stop. Maybe I can work behind the scenes with him instead. Happily ever after, right?
Couldn’t hurt to ask.
Chapter 11
Ally
Toes in the blades of grass, I sat in our backyard and watched the lush trees sway above me, kissed by golden streaks of sunlight. The weeks, so fast, carried me into the future, a future so unknown, so different and divested of a life once filled with love—true, romantic, unbridled love.
Jessie stepped outside in yesterday’s clothes and a smile. Two weeks passed since I saw that woman leave our house. And I chose to believe him, even if he lied. Sometimes, like then, it felt better to believe a lie than to question it.
He sat beside me. “I feel good about the future.”
I forced a smile.
“I feel like we’re finally starting to get somewhere.”
I didn’t. And even though I decided to believe him about that girl hopping away from our house, I still wondered sometimes if she shared my husband with me. The thought gave me chills.
“Hey.” He took my hand. “I’d like to take you out to dinner tonight.”
I nodded. Jessie squeezed my shoulder and stood, walked away, then came back with a bowl of Raisin Bran. Out of the corner of my eye I watched him inhale the cereal. The spoon clanked against his teeth and milk dripped down his chin. I never noticed how loud he chewed before.
I stood and walked through the glass doors into our dining room. Jessie’s computer screen laughed at me.
I imagined going out with him tonight and hoped for the energy to smile. Just as long as our waitress wasn’t a blonde with perfect curves, I’d be okay.
Footsteps tapped behind me, then stopped. Jessie’s arms wrapped around me. The warmth of his neck heated mine. Flesh to flesh, I cringed inside. The sound of his breath, his chest rising and falling against my back, I couldn’t take it.
My own marriage suffocated me, stealing my breath with every thought of the past, of what we were supposed to be, not what we’d become.
I pulled away and headed for the shower.
As I opened the bathroom door a familiar smile enticed me. I closed my eyes. There, on the backs of my eyelids I saw him. Sean Kensington. High school sweetheart. First date. Prom date. Best friend, all those years, until Jessie. He would’ve taken care of me, unlike Jessie. He wouldn’t have lied. He adored me, everything about me. Brown hair and all.
Maybe I married the wrong person.
I turned the faucet in the bathtub. I knew I shouldn’t, but I allowed thoughts of Sean to entertain me. Water gushed and swirled around the tub. I turned and looked in the mirror. My eyes, my hair—Jessie made me hate it all. But Sean. . . .
Sean adored me.
Jessie opened the door to our favorite restaurant and I walked inside, scanning the room for blonde women.
Coast clear.
His hand reached for mine. I put my hand in my pocket.
“How many?” The coal-haired hostess said.
“Two,” Jessie said.
She handed us a pager with flashing red lights. “It’ll be about twenty minutes.”
Jessie led me to the other side of the room and we sat down on a bench. His eyes were on me. My eyes were on my shoes.
“You okay?” Jessie said, brushing my hair behind my ear.
I nodded.
Laughing people mocked our silence. How I wanted to laugh. I looked at Jessie. He snapped his head, quick. My heart plummeted. I looked across the room and saw her straight blonde hair soft on her shoulders, curves in all the right places, model height. Jessie’s eyes were on me. Mine were on the girl I caught him staring at. This can’t be happening, I thought. “Were you staring at her?”
“Who?”
I pointed and watched his eyes scan the girl’s body.
“No, I wasn’t.”
“When did you turn into such a liar?” I said loud enough to slice the laugher in the room.
People stared. My hands trembled. I shook my head, scrunching my face to avoid tears. Then I stood and walked out. He followed and tugged my arm. I shrugged him away and jogged across the parking lot. Clammy June air dried my cheeks. I could almost smell the salty Chesapeake Bay. Jessie jogged behind me. A gamut of beautiful memories clung to my mind. Our memories. Our past. Out of breath, I stopped beside the car and turned to him.
His eyes moved back and forth across my face. “Please. Don’t do this.”
“Don’t lie to me. Were you looking at her?”
His shoulders dropped.
Another tear trailed my nose. “Were you attracted to her?”
“Don’t ask me something like that.”
“Tell me.”
“Yes. I was attracted to her, okay? I didn’t mean to look at her. She just caught my eye and you happened to look at me right when I saw her. I didn’t stare at her like you think.”
“Why am I not enough to keep your attention?” I opened the car door, sat down, and slammed the door in his face. The car shuddered.
He walked around the car, head down, and sat in the driver’s seat. “You can’t expect me to not see people, Ally.”
I stared out the window, avoiding everything about him. “I want to go home.”
“But—”
“Now.”
Jessie pulled into the garage. I jumped out before he turned the car off. My knees weakened. My pulse felt non-existent, yet at the same time, too fast. I turned to Jessie just before I reached the door.
No words.
Not a single word came to mind.
For years we sat in silence, speechless, unable to find words to describe how we felt. Now, silence reminded me of death and not a single word could awaken it.
I went inside and sat down on the living room floor, back against the couch, knees pulled to my chest. Jessie slumped into the couch a few feet away from me. I didn’t know why, it didn’t make sense, but I wanted him to hold me. I wanted him closer.
I glanced at his feet. His hand moved toward my shoulder. I pulled away. I didn’t want him to touch me. But I did. Oh, I didn’t know. Addled by all of it, by the fall of my life, my marriage, I couldn’t do anything but stare into space and try to make sense of the puzzle in my head.
I needed to fix it. I needed to use what I’d learned in school, in all those years of counseling, and fix my marriage.
I draped my arms over my knees and put my head down.
Jessie sighed.
It’s possible, I thought. I could’ve married the wrong person. His dad always said that. Maybe he was right. Maybe we were infatuated and made a stupid decision. But the past, all of those memories, all of those beautiful memories, they had to be real.
I peered up at Jess—elbow on the arm of the couch, fingers weaved in and out of his hair.
He sat up. “Talk to me.”
“About what?”
“Tell me what’s on your mind.”
“I just want to be the most beautiful woman in the world to you.”
Silence quickened the pulse in my ears. The clock ticked as background noise. Tick, tock, tick, tock. Now I knew what people meant when they talked about deafening silence. I wanted to rip the clock off the wall before it split my eardrums. I wanted to close my ears, turn off my heart, receive nothing about the silence, but it settled in the room.
And it hurt.
“Why aren’t you saying anything?” I finally said.
“I don’t want to lie.”
“So, I’m not the most beautiful woman to you?”
“Don’t ask me things like that.”
“What do you think is more beautiful than me? What qualities?”
He breathed heavily, lips pursed tight and unwilling to budge.
The silence stung. I’d never been so torn in my entire life. It’s like someone took the perfectly together puzzle of my life and threw it on the floor, leaving every piece to fend for itself. And now I didn’t know where to start. It seemed like ninety-percent of the pieces disappeared.
“You can tell me.” I already knew anyway.
“I don’t know.”
“Please.”
“Blonde hair, blue eyes, tall—I don’t know. Please don’t make me say this, Ally. I don’t want to hurt you.”
If I already knew, his words shouldn’t have been so offensive. “Give me a person.”
His jittery eyes scanned my face.
“Name someone you think is more beautiful than me.”
“I’m not doing that.”
“Please.”
“Why?”
“Please.”
“Ally, I don’t think like that. I don’t compare you to people. There is no most beautiful to me. There are too many different kinds of beautiful to say that. But you are beautiful to me. I swear it. You are.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better? The fact that you think hundreds of women are beautiful? That you can’t tell me I’m number one in your eyes?”
“I don’t know. It’s not possible.”
“Who’s more beautiful than me?”
“Anna Lafferty.”
Anna from our first apartment building? I gasped for air and let out a deep sob.
Jessie reached for me.
“So, you think Anna is more beautiful than me?”
“Yes, she’s more beautiful than you.”
I looked into his eyes, tears covering my face.
Nothing could describe that kind of pain, that kind of moment in a marriage.
Jessie held my hand.
I slipped my hand from his and walked away. I asked, I know. But it still hurt. Part of me hoped he’d tell me that no one in the world surpassed me in his eyes, but I guess I needed to hear the truth, even though I regretted it.
As I climbed the stairs to bed I thought about Sean and the one hundred what ifs that went along with him. But for some reason, I knew I couldn’t fall asleep in another bed. Wishing I were callous to the pain, I stared at the ceiling as I reclined into my pillow. Ensnared by my own marriage.