Suddenly Mack is in my room calling my name at the door. Spinning toward him I’m almost dizzy with my upset. Thank god! He’s here. Running for him, Mack opens has arms and looks like he’s bracing himself for impact. Oh, that’s kinda funny actually.
“Mack! I’m sorry. I was such an asshole this afternoon, I know it. I didn’t mean those things to you, and I’ll apologize to Kayla too. I was just messed up. Please! Please don’t leave me yet.” Yet? Ooops.
“Suzanne, stop. Breathe. Look at me. I’m not mad at you. We’ll talk about this afternoon, but I am not mad at you. You and I are fine. And I wouldn’t leave. Not yet. Not ever. You really need to start believing that.” Exhale.
“Sit down by the table. I have food arriving any minute for us. I was down the hall when you called, so I just walked here instead of answering. Had I known you would panic, I would have answered. You know this. When do I leave you? When have I ever left you, especially after a particularly hard day? When Suzanne?”
“Never…” I whisper.
“That’s right. Never. I don’t leave you, and I won’t leave you. Try to remember that.”
“Sorry. Ick... now I feel like a child.” I hate this feeling.
“Suzanne. I’m not lecturing you like a child. I’m trying to brow-beat some sense into you. You know I won’t leave you, I know you know that. Yet you instantly go to your place of abandonment each and every time you have a bad day, or a grueling incident. That’s why I’m repeating myself. I don’t mean to sound like I’m lecturing you; I just hope that if I repeat these words often enough you’ll eventually believe them. Okay?”
“Okay, Mack. I’m really sorry.”
“Suzanne, you could try a Saint with all your apologies, you know that?”
“I know. Z used to say that too. But my family and Marcus couldn’t get enough apologies from me. ‘Old habits die hard’, remember? You told me that once.”
“Yes, I’m well aware of my own words of wisdom.”
“You should be, there are so few of them.” WHAT?! Giggle.
“That was very quick and very cleaver Suzanne. Thank you for slaughtering my intellect. I do so enjoy being intellectually slaughtered, especially by a crazy chick such as yourself. It cuts deeper.” He says grinning. Oh. Thank god.
Grabbing Mack in a tight hug, I finally breathe properly. I hate feeling insecure with Mack. I feel it so often with so many, that feeling it with Mack is just too much. I can’t handle it, and I can’t stand it. I want Mack to always feel safe.
“I really am sorry for everything I did and said this afternoon, Mack. Really. I feel awful, just sick over it…”
“I know. But we have to talk about it tonight. We have to. But I would like to wait until after dinner, okay?’
“Okay.” And with perfect timing there is a knock on our door.
Jumping up, I receive our food, from the nursing staff. Mack always orders our food from an ‘outside source’ as he puts it, to maintain our health. It’s always delivered to the nurses’ station, no matter where he buys from, and the nurses and any patients who happen to see and/or smell our food always resent us. Mack just shrugs.
After our perfectly delicious Italian dinner, at nearly midnight, Mack stops, turns to me, and gives me the ‘doctorly’ look I have come to dread, and maybe even sometimes fear. I don’t get away with nearly as much shit when he’s in doctor-mode, as I do when he’s in friend-mode.
“Okay, Suzanne, you’re off the hook tonight. I can tell you’re absolutely exhausted, and I know you’ve made yourself sick with worry all evening over everything that happened earlier, so I suggest we pack it in for the night. Go to sleep, and I’ll return early in the morning so we can talk. Marcus isn’t expected until 2:00, so we’ll have more than enough time to talk, work through any issues, and then prepare you for Marcus’ arrival. If things don’t go well tomorrow, I’ll simply cancel with Marcus, and reschedule for another day. How does that sound to you?” Ex-hale.
“It sounds great. Thanks Mack.”
“Suzanne you are off the hook for tonight- ONLY. Tomorrow morning I will be here by 8am, and we ARE talking about everything that happened and what was said today. Understood?”
“Yes, Dr. MacDonald. I promise.” I even place my hand on my heart for emphasis with a solemn head nod.
“I think your ‘Here and There’, or ‘Then and Now’, or whatever the hell you call your ‘Two Kaylas’ are having a terrible influence over you. You are quickly becoming quite the smartass, Suzanne. I may have to speak with New York Kayla about it.”
“Don’t you dare! I love having two smartasses. And if they teach me to toughen up a little, all the better, right?”
“Yes. You’re right. Okay, I won’t say anything, yet…” He grins.
“Good night Mack. Thank you.”
“Good night, Suzanne. You’re welcome. Sleep well.”
I think I will sleep well. Pasta always fills me and makes me tired, plus I’ve had a crazy up and down day today, which always exhausts me. Making my way to my bathroom, I brush my teeth and wash my face.
Pulling on my comfy pj’s, I head for my cozy bed. The sheets aren’t those crisp cold hospital kind; I have real sheets, and a real blanket- Z’s blanket in fact.
I still sleep wrapped in Z’s blanket even though his scent is long gone, and it’s been washed dozens of times. But I still have it, and I still need to sleep with it. Sleeping with Z’s blanket is the closest thing I’ll ever have to sleeping with Z, and I’m honestly okay with that now.
Sunday, October, 13th
CHAPTER 34
When I wake, I feel Mack in my room. This used to creep me out, but now it’s nothing to me. Mack has seen me so hideous over the last few months, that a little bed-head no longer worries me. Plus, he’s usually reading in the far corner, not even physically close to me, nor is he watching me like a stalker or something. Mack just sits in the corner and waits for me to wake.
“Good morning, Mack,” I whisper.
“Good morning, Suzanne. Could you please get your ASS out of bed? Its 9:30 and I’m bored to tears,” he smirks.
“Really? Wow. Sorry. Just give me a minute.”
Jumping from my bed, I grab some clothes, and head for my bathroom. Kayla bought me an electric razor to use on my armpits, the one thing I refused to deal with after I was told I wasn’t allowed any razors. So every morning, I quickly use the electric poor substitute razor, because I hate having stubbly underarms. It’s just gross.
Back in my room, I see Mack has a whole breakfast spread laid out on our table. Everything looks really good. I’m starving again, even though I had a huge dinner only like, ten hours ago. If I keep this up, I’ll gain back the twenty-five pounds I’ve lost in the last four months.
Handing me a plate, Mack starts dishing out all the things I love. Huh. This seems like a ploy. He even has blueberry jam, which I know he hates. Holy shit. Mack even brought the jasmine honey I love, the kind that’s next to impossible to find. Uh oh.
“Mack. You’re really freaking me out here.”
“With breakfast?” He grins.
“Yes, with breakfast. You have my jam, and my honey. Both of which I know you hate. This screams of ‘Butter up Suzanne, then nail her ass with something brutally thought-provoking and make her talk…’ Am I wrong?”
“Nope. You’re not wrong. I do want you happy and relaxed. I want to have a tough conversation, and what better way to get through it, than to make sure you’re all happy and satiated with your favorite gross jam and ridiculously expensive, impossible to find, and not nearly worth the effort, honey?”
“Okay then. I guess I better dig in, so I have something to barf up later.” I grin in return.
While spreading my jam, I can’t help but ask, “Is Kayla really, really mad at me?”
“No. She really isn’t. She understands that there are some triggers that happen, out of your control, and she also understands that you try very hard to keep it all inside, an
d sometimes it just bursts forth. She is a good nurse, and she has dealt with many people and their issues. So, no, Suzanne, Kayla is not mad at you. She does however think you and I need to have a talk about personal boundaries, but more importantly, she thinks we need to talk about “The Big Three” as you refer to intercourse, a little more thoroughly.” What is she, my doctor now?
“Personal boundaries?” Gulp. I don’t like the sound of this.
“Yes. I think, and Kayla agrees, she made a mistake talking to you not only about sex, but about sex with me. You weren’t ready for sordid sex details, and you certainly shouldn’t have had to think about me in that way. You and I work because there is no sexuality between us. Yesterday, Kayla made me sexual to you, and you lost your balance. I believe that’s what made you lose it, if you will.”
“Um... I don’t know. I was fine. I was happy for you both. I just…” I have no words to express what happened. I don’t know what happened yesterday.
“You couldn’t handle thinking about me in an act of intimacy because I’m supposed to be safe for you, sexually non-threatening, and yesterday you became aware that I am a man who has sex, therefore, I became a threat to you?” Um…
“Maybe. I don’t know. You became not only a man who has sex, but a man who is amazing at sex, a Sexual Dynamo, a man who is really good with his ‘mouth and hands’. I don’t know Mack, that’s a pretty awesome description coming from Kayla. I shouldn’t feel any threat from that. I shouldn’t, right?” I am so confused. I hate this.
“No, you shouldn’t feel threatened by me, because I am not a threat to you. But that doesn’t mean that you don’t feel like I’m a threat. Who have you ever known sexually who didn’t threaten to hurt you, or who just hurt you sexually anyway? You have NO experience with anything other than brutality, Suzanne. You know nothing of normal, loving, erotic, healthy, beautiful, amazing sex. I don’t know that you can even imagine it at this point. Can you?”
“Yes, I can imagine it sadly. I had it once, well actually two times, but then I didn’t and I won’t again, but I remember thinking it was really, truly, amazing and just, like, wonderful. I think I was so shocked, that I couldn’t even believe it was real sex. It was like a dream or something.”
“Suzanne. You’re crying. Do you know that you’re crying?”
“No. Sorry Mack. I don’t know… anything, anymore.”
Putting down my toast, I can’t make eye-contact with Mack right now. I’m getting that feeling of chest pain again. I get so tired of this feeling. It’s all I know when I think of Z. Everything about Z hurts my chest. I hate talking about him. Shit, I hate thinking about him, because pain is all I know when I think of him. I am such an idiot over all this.
“Suzanne. What are you thinking about at this exact moment? Say it, please.”
“I’m thinking I’m an idiot for having such painful feelings over someone who I barely knew, and who I shouldn’t know at all. He was so good, and I make my time with him into something so good, but I know it wasn’t real. I do know that. It just makes my chest hurt when I remember him, because I shouldn’t think about him, at all.” Let go of him.
“Who are you talking about?”
“Z. There I said it. I know you were waiting Mack, I’m not stupid you know?”
“I know you aren’t stupid. But I think it’s important for you to say his name out loud. You rarely do, and when you do, you have a tendency to vomit.” I do?! Oh, funny.
“Maybe you, ah, shouldn’t tell him I barf when I say his name. That sounds a little insulting,” I giggle.
“As much as it pains me not to torture him with the fact that a beautiful woman barfs at the mere thought of him, I will refrain Suzanne… but only because of our damn Doctor/Patient confidentiality agreement, which I’m bound to… Not because I wouldn’t love to see my best friend’s shock at such a statement.” I hear his smile-voice.
“Mack you are such an ass. Honestly. You think The Kaylas are a bad influence on me? You’re worse. You have a real nasty streak covered in gentlemanly, doctorly humor.”
“I do. But the Kaylas are still worse than me.”
I can’t think of anything else to say. I don’t talk about Z ever, I don’t want to. It really is like a never-ending agony. And Mack always tries to make me talk about Z, but I refuse. I wish I could have some closure or something. Isn’t that the word Mack always uses? ‘Closure’?
“How is he, Mack?” What? Shit!
“Z is good, Suzanne. He has accepted the fact that you won’t or can’t see him. He tried for quite awhile, but you refused so many times, that he and I decided it was in your best interest if he stayed away. I’m sure however, if you would like to see or speak with Z, he would be more than willing.”
“No. No, thank you. He’s too painful for me. I just wanted to make sure he was okay. I didn’t know how all of this stuff had affected him. Was he okay with it all? Is he okay with it all?”
“Z did suffer greatly in the beginning. He hid nothing of his father’s involvement, even going so far as to give up any files, photographs, and an old laptop of his father’s to the Police in Chicago. Z was adamant about helping the Police and Prosecutors.”
“Does he know everything Mack… you know, all the really bad stuff?”
“Not that I’m aware of. Z only knows what has been publically reported, and about the few details you told him when you were unwell in his apartment. He has enough information to know he wants everyone involved brought to justice. And I know he has used some of his own resources and connections to make this happen.”
“Why? Why would he do that? It doesn’t make sense. He isn’t Peter. I don’t get it.”
“He was doing it for you, Suzanne. Z wanted to try to fight for you somehow now, because he didn’t know what was happening to you then. I’m sure if he had, Z would have stopped his father years ago. He cares about you Suzanne, deeply. Z wants…”
“Mack stop! Please. I don’t want to know what Z wants, and I don’t want to know how he does or doesn’t care for me. I just wanted to know how he was. That’s all. I don’t want to go there Mack. Not today. I still have Marcus to deal with today.”
“I understand, Suzanne. We’ll focus on your visit with Marcus. Are you comfortable at the table? Did you want to move to the chairs where we usually talk?”
“All right.” And moving to our chairs in the opposite corner from our table, I try to focus on today’s problem… Marcus.
==========
I haven’t seen Marcus in close to a month and I’m dreading seeing him. Whenever I have seen him I become emotional, enraged, and horribly depressed.
Marcus represents the ‘middle’ part of my life, so far. He was the ‘in between’, and as such, he carries some of the weight and responsibility for the way I felt as an adult, but he also holds none of the responsibility of making me the way I am. Therefore, I pity him and I dislike him too. It’s really quite confusing.
“What do you want to say, Mack? You seem extra irritated about Marcus coming here today. Why?”
“Suzanne. Marcus hasn’t told me why he wants to be here today, but he did say it was really important, and he had to get answers. When I pressed him, he wouldn’t tell me anything more. So, clearly, I’m a little nervous for you. I don’t like the unknown either Suzanne and I won’t tolerate Marcus putting any pressure on you, whether he needs answers or not. That’s my only concern for you today.”
“Okay. What do we do now? What do we talk about?”
Mack actually pauses. He rarely does that. Mack is just too smart to ever need a minute. He seems able to think, speak, and act on the fly, and everything usually ends up right.
I envy that about Mack. I wish I didn’t have to over-analyze and fear every single thing I do, say, or feel from one moment to the next. I wish I could just be a person who doesn’t fear everything, every single day.
“Suzanne. We need to talk about your “Big Three”. We have to. Should Marcus talk about
your marriage, or your sexual relations, I don’t want you confusing Marcus’ and your sex, with the brutality of your past.”
“Sometimes, they run very close, Mack. I don’t think Marcus really knows the difference.”
“The difference in what?”
“You know... The Big Three. Marcus wasn’t very good at sex, as I’ve told you before, but I seriously think he has confused what the types are.”
“Maybe he doesn’t know the types, Suzanne?”
“Oh, he knows. He always knew. He just didn’t care.” He NEVER cared.
“Suzanne. Before you explained ‘The Big Three’, even I didn’t know about them. Of course your Big Three make sense, just as they are, but there are variables, and I didn’t place certain sex acts, or experiences, or even positions into a category of ‘three’ like you have. It’s nearly impossible Suzanne…”
“No, it isn’t Mack. It’s very easy. I know it is. Everything fits into my theory of ‘The Big Three’.”
“Okay Suzanne, here’s a hypothetical for you; A very loving couple, who have been together for years, make love frequently and are very happy with each other in life and within their sex-life. One night, the wife is feeling a little frisky, so she decides to have sex with her husband. It’s a different experience, maybe even a different position then they usually make love to. When it’s over, both are thrilled, and they still love each other very much. Nothing changes between them; nothing changes even for a moment throughout the sexual experience. Now, which of your Big Three did they have?”
“Easy. She’s a slut who fucked her husband, and of course he went along with her for the ride… Oh, literally, I’m sure.” Giggle.
Ooops. OH FUCK!!! I HATE that!!! I forgot to think first. SHIT! I forgot to think before speaking.
“Never-mind Mack, my mistake. They made love of course and nothing changed between them. Sorry. I forgot to think, um, I forgot to use my brain to mouth filter. Sorry.” Argh