Authors: Sarah White
Chapter 8
Cait
When Matt left me on the porch one night after he kissed me I thought I had
done something wrong. I had never been kissed by a boy before and when he
touched me I couldn’t help but to tremble. As he traced my lips I felt
the warmth everywhere in my body, the intense desire to feel him close to me
building in a way I had never felt before. His mouth was warm against my
lips and I had opened my mouth to allow his tongue to find mine. I was cautious
at first, having never kissed before and afraid I would do it wrong but when he
put his knee between my legs the need I had for him overrode any insecurity I
had and I melted under his touch. I met his tongue with mine and allowed my
hands to feel every inch of his skin I could find. When he pressed
himself against me I couldn’t help myself and a small moan escaped my
mouth.
Matt pulled away quickly and I knew I had messed something up; clearly he was
far more experienced than I was. He rested his forehead on mine, steadied
his breath and I wanted to say I was sorry but knew the words would not come
out without tears. When he walked across the street back to his house I
prayed that he would forget what happened, forget I didn’t know what I was
doing. The pain of my heartbreak was so intense, I struggled to breath
and not double over with the pain that started in my broken heart and radiated
through my body. I promised myself I would never tell anyone about it and
in return I prayed I would stop feeling like I was being pulled to him, wanting
the touch of his skin.
A few months later I kissed Elliot and I knew right away that it would never be
like the kiss I shared with Matt. I loved kissing Elliot, but he never
made me feel like I was going to unravel with his touch and to this day I have
never met anyone that has made me tremble the way Matt did. I can’t explain how
I knew my heart would never make a complete recovery after Matt. As time passed
and Elliot and I went farther I told myself that what I felt with Matt was just
the excitement of a first kiss and if we had gone further it would have felt
the same as it did with Elliot.
Now I am sitting on the bed as Matt holds my chin up, feeling embarrassed once
again by my reaction to him. Closing my eyes I say a silent prayer that
my heart can just let him go. Hen I leave this place I want nothing left
in my heart but peace. I open my eyes and silently beg him to understand
that the pain he is seeing was not inflicted by his statement, but instead the
years of lying to myself about being in love with Elliot and the pain of wasted
time and unshared loss.
“Please don’t cry. I shouldn’t have said that,” Matt says looking into my
eyes.
“Trust me, if I could stop I would have stopped wasting tears a long time
ago. I am not mad that you said it, it’s very nice to hear, but I am just
such a mess being here with Court.” I can feel his rough hand on my skin
as I look into his eyes. His gaze drops to my lips then back to my
eyes. He stands up quickly and steps back.
“Being here with her is excruciating. Every muscle in my body wants to
run away, to leave and hear about her death from far way and removed from the
weight of it. She wouldn’t do that to me so I can’t do that to her.
I have no idea how to watch my sister die.”
I want to reach out to him, to hold him and offer him comfort but I
can’t. I know if I make that connection I will only being hurting both of
us. While he still feels like an extension of my soul just like his
sister, I am not a healthy person and I am nowhere near a balanced center.
Barely walking the line is where I am, with the danger of falling over and
losing my internal strength to stay here until the end. I need to do this
for her.
“I think she wants us to watch her live. She wants us all to be together
as she lives her last days and as hard as it is going to be to watch her die, I
think it is harder on her to have to leave us. We need to pull ourselves
together or she will be the one taking care of us.” I grab my bag and
begin digging through it nervously knowing he is watching me still.
“You’re right. We should have some fun while she still can. I am
going to need a few stiff drinks to get through these next few days. What
do you say after a shower we head into town and get some drinks at Pete’s
Place?” For the first time I see a smile reach his eyes. He is
going to need to stop doing that if he wants a response from me because it
takes me back to a happier place and I am left lost in the flashing memories of
our childhood.
I manage to say, “Sounds amazing. Give me twenty minutes.”
“I am going to jump in the other shower so we can get going before it is too
late.” He turns to leave and of course I watch him go. His smell
lingers in my room as I gather my clothes and head for the shower.
Chapter 9
Cait
Standing in the shower and let the water flow over my head.
I can remember doing this as a teenager after dragging my mother to her bed for
the night. It was the only time there was peace. I would turn the
shower up so that if she called for me I couldn’t hear. It also drowned
out the sound of her vomiting or crying over my father. I would imagine
being on my own, away from all of her bullshit, but now as I stand here alone I
wonder if being alone could ever be what I hoped it was.
The week before my mother died was the most traumatic. I can in one night
after saying goodbye to Court and Matt to find my mother unconscious on the
floor of our kitchen. I ran to her and rolled her over on to her side
knowing that sometimes she would vomit in her mouth while she was passed
out. I was seventeen, terrified and trying to clear her airway all by
myself. When it was clear she began to cough and her eyes were barely
able to stay focused and would roll to the back of her head. I thought she
was going to die right there.
Sitting on the cold floor with her and her vomit I saw a bottle of her favorite
liquor empty on the counter. I shouted at her that she had really done it
this time and that she was going to die. My mother looked at me with
indifference and then told me that she would never be that lucky.
As I picked my mother up off the floor that night I knew I no longer loved
her. I had tried hard for many years but it was impossible to have any
positive feelings for someone with zero regard for what their actions might be
doing to those who love them. I dragged my mother to her bedroom and
pulled her shoes off as she passed out on her bed, then I went into the kitchen
to once again clean up her mess. Part of me died that night along with
her pride on that vomit covered linoleum. At seventeen I learned that in
order to be safe you have to protect your heart from reckless love and instead
tether it to what you can count on.
Over the next few days my mother increased her consumption of that poison and I
didn’t fight it one bit. She was a grown woman and if she decided to kill
herself I was going to let her. Each night when I returned from our trips
to the shore I held my
breath
as I stood on the porch,
not sure about what I would find on the other side of the door. A part of
me prayed that it was a door that separated the living from the dead.
I found my mother dead five days after I had found her on the kitchen floor
that night. Court had gone inside her house and I stood on the porch for
a minute gathering the strength to open the door. My mother had not been
able to work at all that week and in addition to the vomit I had been cleaning
up, my new task was to clean up the urine when her body no longer allowed her
to control that function. That night the door really did separate the
living from the dead and I found my mother dead in her bedroom.
At seventeen I knew that her death would change everything for me. I sat
with her dead body crying, but not because I missed her, it was because I hated
her for being unprepared for her death. Being emancipated was not an easy
process,
I had researched it for quite some
time. My mother abandoned me in more ways than I knew at the time.
When the tears finally stopped I studied her face, committing it to my memory.
She had been beautiful before, her years of alcohol stealing that from her.
Hating her for what she had done to my life was
easy,
forgiving her would be far more difficult. The last thing I remember
about my mother’s face before the EMT’s removed her body from our house was how
peaceful she looked. Some would say that she lost her battle with
alcoholism, but I knew the truth was my mother had won her battle. Peace
in death her reward.
Chapter 10
Cait
I dry off quickly trying to make up for time I lost in the shower. I use
my towel to dry the mirror and look into my own eyes. I look tired and
lost. I throw on a pair of my favorite jeans and a cotton t-shirt that
hugs my waist. After using the towel to twist my hair up I gather my
dirty clothes to head back to my room.
I am looking at my clothes as I open the bathroom door and release the steam
that had been trapped inside. When I finally lift my head I am looking
straight at Matt’s bare chest. I fight the urge to reach out and touch
him, curious if he still feels warm from his shower. At this point I
realize what I am doing and quickly look up to his eyes to see if he has
noticed. Matt smiles at me when our eyes meet. His hair is still
damp from the shower and he smells even better than he did in my room.
“Hurry and get dressed,” I say trying to pretend the attention I was giving him
was because I was distressed that he wasn’t ready yet.
“It seems you weren’t the only one who tried to take a shower without your
bags.” He disappears down the hall and into the front room to grab
them. I turn and head back to my room to finish getting ready.
In the room I grab my brush and a small bag of make-up. I quickly brush
my hair and decide to twist it up out of my face for the evening. Knowing
that the make-up isn’t going to help much, I still put a little on just to show
some effort. I skip the mascara because I know that I have not shed all
the tears I am going to shed and the black smears on my face remind me of my
mother after her nights at the bars. I put on the thin silver chain with a tiny
cross that Court gave me after I had lost the baby. The cross falls
between my breasts and I feel more complete with it on.
I make my way down the hall to Courts room to see if she needs any help.
She has always been beautiful and even though the cancer has taken the fullness
from her body she is still very
breath
taking with her
make-up on and a colorful sundress with a matching scarf to cover her
head. I wonder if she misses her long dark hair and the sadness that
thought brings on slices through me so quickly I feel lightheaded. As
kids we would spend hours practicing hair styles on each other and I can so
clearly remember the feel of her curls beneath my fingertips as I braided her
hair. Of course she misses it, I miss it and it wasn’t even mine.
“What was it like to lose your hair?”
“I fought it until the last minute. The doctors told me before my first
round of Chemo that I should shave my head so that losing it wouldn’t be as
traumatic. I swear I stood in this bathroom for two hours crying over the
damn old clippers Matt had left here. I told myself it was just hair but
it wasn’t, it was so much more. To me shaving my head meant losing my
femininity, severing the last thing that made me feel beautiful.”
“My God Court, why didn’t you call me? I would have done it for you, or
sat with you. God listen to me, I don’t even know what I would have done
in that moment.”
“I know you would have been here as soon as I called but it was a battle I
needed to fight within myself. I decided I would wait until the treatment
took it from me because it was going to be traumatic no matter when it happened
so why rush it. It fell out shortly after my second visit. I woke
up one morning and when I lifted my head from my pillow I could see the battle
had begun. I marched into the bathroom and grabbed the clippers,
finishing what had been started whether I was ready or not.”
“I am so sorry Court.”
“Funny thing happened, while I cried for the first few strokes, the memory of
the time Matt asked us to shave his head for football came crashing down on
me. Do you remember it?”
“The summer before
his
Junior
year?” I knew exactly when it
was,
I can’t pass a set of clippers without thinking of it.
“We were so nervous! I remember I couldn’t do it because I was shaking so bad,
sure I would mess it up and leave him looking horrible. You took over and
the faces you were making while you were concentrating gave me a fit of
giggles.” Court makes my “Serious” face which leaves her brows furrowed
together and tongue pinched between her lips. We start laughing at how
accurately she can mimic my facial expression and soon we are doubled over
laughing so hard tears are falling down our cheeks.
“He was so pissed,” I manage to get out and she nods in agreement.
“You see
,
this is exactly what happened. I was
so overcome with joy of that memory that I couldn’t continue being sad.
It didn’t matter anymore. I could only think of Matt yelling at us as we
both dissolved into fits of giggles. I think I even peed my pants we
laughed so hard.”
Court was right, she had peed her pants. I had lost the use of my arms to
the laughter and Matt has sat there with half his head shaved very unevenly
trying to be angry
at
us but failing. He had
finally tackled Court and held her down and threatened to shave her head until
she had lost all control.
Court and I both breathe out a big sigh and wipe at the tears escaping down our
cheeks. “I am so excited! This is going to be just like old
times!” She runs to me and hugs me as she jumps up and down. She
grabs her small purse from the bed and pushes me to the front room.
Matt is sitting on the couch drinking a beer and I watch as he looks at his
sister. I know he is trying, but the sadness in his eyes cannot be masked
and he quickly smiles a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. When I step out from
around Court to grab my purse I can feel him look me up and down as he takes a
big swig to finish the beer he is drinking. I can see from his eyes it
isn’t his first beer and I suddenly have the urge to catch up as if he may have
found the answer to surviving the heartbreak of this bittersweet evening.
Court is getting weaker and I can’t imagine there will be many more trips like
this to Pete’s Place. It is going to be so fun to have the three of us
together again but so sad to know our moments like this are numbered. I
raise my lips in a half smile when Court leaves the room to grab us some beers
before we go. Matt lifts his eyebrows in an expression that says he is
doing his best to keep it together.
“Wow, my fridge looks like it belongs in a college dorm room. Full of beer
and no food in sight.” Court yells from the kitchen as she is grabbing
beers for the three of us.
“Perfect,” Matt and I say together and then meet each other’s eyes for a brief
moment before looking anywhere but at each other.
“You guys are like an old married couple.” Court looks to both of us and
hands us each our beer. I roll my eyes at her but Matt just smiles as he
reaches for the beer in Court’s hand. I grab mine as well and the three
of us take a sip.
“I called a cab to take us there,” Court says. She motions for us to
hurry up and finish our beers so we can begin the night. I wonder how she
is feeling and if it is safe for her to be going out for the night and drinking
alcohol. Looking at Matt, he is also looking at her as she chugs down the
rest of her beer. “If you two don’t stop looking at me like I am going to
drop dead any minute it is going to be a boring two weeks. I don’t care
if I am supposed to be at home and in bed, if I die tonight at least it will be
doing something I love with the people I love. Let’s go already!”
The alcohol warms my blood as memories of us three getting
drunk
together flood my head. Matt used to sneak us beer into the room behind
the garage and we would play truth or dare until I had to go back home.
He told us that boys were not to be trusted and that if we wanted to get drunk
it was only to be with him around. We would laugh and Court and I would
conspire together to create the best dares but would be outdone each time by
Matt’s brilliantly embarrassing ideas.
Matt seemed so much older than us as he watched over us in the garage
room. He let us have fun but would cut us off before we ever were going
to get sick. At the end of the night he would help tuck us into bed in
Court’s room of my mother had already come home or he would walk me across the
street if she hadn’t returned from the bars. I always forgot to bring a
sweatshirt on purpose so that he would offer me his, his scent and warmth
surrounding me as he guided me across the street with his hand on my back.
We all get into the cab as Court squeezes into the middle. We tell the
driver where we are headed and I watch as Court sings along to the song on the
radio. I want to remember this moment forever and the panic begins to
sink in as I realize I have no way of remembering it all. I quickly look
out the window before anyone can see my eyes well up again. I have got to
get drinking if I am ever going to make it through tonight.
When we arrive at the bar we file out of the cab and Matt gives the driver the
money. Court runs up to a group of girls standing outside and begins
chatting and giving hugs. I am standing there watching her, waiting for
the girls to say something about her scarf or thin new stature but they don’t.
Court told me that everyone in town knows she is dying. Court also told
me that she has said her goodbyes to those that matter and has let everyone
know her Hospice nurse will place her obituary in the local paper to notify
them of her passing. Suddenly feel the warmth of Matt on my back and his
hands cup my shoulders.
“We can do this,” he whispers into my ear and my body melts with his
touch. I can feel myself lean back into his as I release the breath that
has been trapped in my lungs. “Let’s go get drunk,” he says as he moves
his hand down from my shoulder to my hand a pulls me towards the front door.
“Do they still have live bands in here?” he asks turning his head back towards
me.
“I haven’t been here in ages Matt, I have no idea what is waiting for us in
there.” I try to act as if his hand is not causing the feeling of electricity
to race through my body. I have to tell my brain to please move my feet
as he drags me along.
“I hope so,” he says, “I can’t wait to watch you dance like you used to.”
He smiles again and lets my hand slip from his as he leans in closer to
whisper, “those jeans are killing me,” before turning to enter the bar after
Court. I can even feel a small flush in my face. I enter the bar behind
them and hope for more moments like that to keep me from drowning in my
sadness.