Undertow (20 page)

“A
re you sure you’ll be okay home alone tonight?” her mother asked, as if Marissa was still eleven years old.

Seriously, the woman is crazier than me,
she thought
. Does she think that her condo is on some gang hit list or something?
“Yeah, Mom. I’ll be fine.” She shrugged and tried to act nonchalant. “You and George go have fun.” She had a hard time imagining the two of them having fun together.

Her mother fussed a while longer and searched Marissa’s face, probably for signs of anxiety or general insanity. Finally, she lifted her chin and plastered on an everything-is-perfect smile. “Of course you will, Mari. You are going to be just fine. Mom’s just worrying too much, isn’t she?” She embraced her in an awkward hug.

Marissa could have shouted with joy the minute the door was shut. Finally, she was alone. For the first time in ages.

After the elation passed, and—
miracle
—intruders didn’t attack, Marissa dug around in the pantry and found an old box of pasta for supper. Organic and whole wheat, but the closest thing to real mac and cheese at her mother’s house. She tossed in some frozen peas and a can of tuna after it was cooked. Comfort food, the old tuna noodle standby, mainstay of her childhood. She gorged on the entire pot of food, scooping it straight out of the pan with a soup spoon. Each bite of warm creamy cheesy goodness was like sucking milk from a baby bottle.

If only she could go back to the day before everything got so messy, before all those men ruined her life. She chewed the mushy noodles and imagined each man living his life somewhere. Drake, sweet-talking some new unsuspecting girl, promising his undying devotion; the merman, that crystalline creature of pure beauty, living in an aquatic paradise without her; Richard, her sometimes father, masquerading with Claudia as refined citizens. And Gilbert, the predator, probably lying on his prison cot molesting some other unlucky girl in his fantasies. Marissa held them all in her mind like a sort of reverse line-up:
Pick out the innocent man, please.

Then Jim’s picture crystallized, pushing the others into shadow.

She placed the empty pan in the sink and filled it with hot water. Listening to the water plunk into the metal, it occurred to her that she hadn’t been truly alone for weeks. The realization brought a wave of possibility. A split-second later, she chose to indulge in another activity she hadn’t enjoyed for weeks: a bubble bath. Hopefully, she could soak away the memories and confusion clinging to her like stale sweat.

After she toweled off the frothy residue of bubbles, she stole the Laura Ashley throw from the back of the chair and wrapped it around her naked body. Cocooned and warm, she closed her eyes, allowing the air to enter and exit her nostrils in a gentle rhythm. Her lungs swelled with each breath.

Now
, she thought.
I’m ready
.

The notebook she bought at the mall waited beside the lamp. Homework from Dr. Leopold.
Leticia
. “Write for thirty minutes every day.”

Seriously?
She said, “But what should I write about? There won’t be much going on while I’m stuck at my mom’s.”

Undeterred, the therapist said, “Don’t worry. It’s not a diary or a log. Just put your pen to the paper and write everything that flows through your mind for twenty minutes or so. No censoring. Let your mind speak.”

“Anything? Sounds like a pretty boring journal,” she said. Plus a total waste of time.

Dr. Leopold laughed. “You may be surprised what you find in there.” She tapped her index finger to her forehead. “And one last assignment: after about twenty minutes of writing, think of one thing for which you are grateful, and one thing you are looking forward to. Write those two things down.”

Well, there wasn’t anything else for her to do. Without her classes, she didn’t have any
real
homework. Marissa retrieved the notebook from the table and held it on her lap for a moment before opening it.

February 18
, she wrote.
Here I sit, naked, wrapped up like a baby in a bunting. Safe. Warm. Alone. Very alone.

When she looked up from the notebook, the analog clock on the dresser showed thirty-four minutes had disappeared. She set the pen down and rubbed at her eyes. But she still had those two questions to answer.

The first question should be easy.
What was she grateful for?
The obvious things came to mind first; necessities like food and clothing. But even more than having a place to live and something to eat, Marissa was grateful for Jim. He was her best friend now, and had stuck with her through this whole awful mess. How could she not be grateful?

The second question was harder:
What do I look forward to?

She contemplated this for a while. Did she look forward to going back to school? No, not really, she decided. Graduating, maybe
.
Again, the answer jumped to the front of her mind in an instant. What she most looked forward to, the
only
thing she looked forward to at the moment, was being with him again.

 Marissa picked up her pen and at the bottom of the page wrote a single answer:

Jim.

Twenty-Nine

“W
anna meet up later? It’s strawberry time! Let’s go get shakes at Burgerville.”

She looked at the clock. Nine-thirty.
Could Kelly seriously be that enthusiastic so early in the morning?
Still groggy from sleep and meds, she rubbed her eyes until they felt bruised.

Marissa hadn’t called Kelly since her discharge. “I know what you did,” she’d  said the last time they spoke. Everyone else probably did, too. Remembering the psych ward made her wish aliens would abduct her and haul her off to some planet where crazy people lived in peace.

“Sure. Sounds like a plan.”

Had she ever avoided her best friend before? It used to be the other way around, when Kelly was the sick one and Marissa forced her to face the truth. Obviously, karma had come to kick her butt now.
“Mom’s taking me to get my car out of lockdown sometime today. I’ll give you a shout when the mission’s accomplished.”

“Okay. But you do know I have your mom’s cell in my speed dial, right?” Kelly laughed. “Don’t turn me into a stalker.”

Sooner or later she’d have to just suck it up and deal, Marissa knew. No time like the present, as her mother pointed out every chance she got. “Yesterday’s gone, tomorrow may never be. All we really have is today, Mari.”

Any contrition her mother experienced over making her feel guilty about the impound fee was short lived. Apparently, she really did practice living in the moment, Marissa decided, and that moment was gone. With a sour expression, her mother forked over her credit card to a surly lot attendant, and again to the equally irritable locksmith who took his sweet time cranking out a replacement key.

With a melodramatic sigh, she’d passed her the new key. “Are you sure you’re ready to drive alone already?”

“Yeah, mom. I’ll be fine.” One more moment until she could lock herself in her car and finally be alone. “Thanks for taking care of this for me. I’ll pay you back someday. Put it on my tab.” Owing her mom anything soured her stomach, but she couldn’t resist the dig.

Her mother nodded and pinched her lips together.

Marissa could hear the unspoken lecture:
she could compensate her mother for all her maternal sacrifices as easily as she could suddenly sprout wings and fly
.

Unlike her car, her cell was never found at the beach and she wasn’t about to ask her mother for anything else, especially not a new phone.
More karma
, she thought. An old pay phone hung on the wall in the restaurant; part of their retro theme. Each key made a loud beeping noise as she dialed, drawing snickers from some teens slurping their shakes at a nearby table.

Back in the car, she waited for Kelly and was struck with an irrational craving for a cigarette. Pretty weird, since she never smoked. But the idea of keeping her hands and mind occupied with something suddenly appealed; anything to forget the last time she sat in this car alone. The destination, the awful way it turned out. She shuddered.

Trying to distract herself, Marissa fished around the console. Gum, an old toothpick, lip balm, a pen. Nothing interesting. She opened the glove box, reached in, and yanked her hand back as if she’d touched a live wire. Her notebook. Snapping the box shut, she squeezed the steering wheel with both hands.

She stared out the windshield as the unwelcome scenes flashed in her mind. Memories from the days before Erin kicked her out—they seemed like eons ago, but it had only been a few weeks—days she’d been filled with an intense certainty as she toted the notebook around like a bible, convinced she was on the verge of breaking some universal code. She pictured Erin’s face, twisted in shock and fear.

Marissa clutched at the wheel until her knuckles took on a ghostly glow. Rapping on the window startled her.

The second she opened the door, Kelly descended on her. “You’re back! God, I can’t believe it. I was
sooo
worried about you.”

Marissa squirmed and choked until she finally loosened her grip. Coughing, she pulled her jacket close to block the chill, although the unpleasant memories were more to blame for her shivers than the mild weather. “Kind of cold for a milkshake. But I’m craving a Gardenburger.” She jerked her head toward the restaurant.

Kelly shrugged and looped her arm through Marissa’s as if they were still in grade school. “Got to have a shake with those fries!” She dragged her inside and marched up to the counter. “I’m buying,” she announced.

A good thing, since Marissa was totally broke.

They claimed a booth in the back corner, where only customers on a trip to the bathroom would come within earshot. Kelly leaned forward and delivered a soul-stripping stare until Marissa fidgeted and began shredding her napkin into little bits.

 “Well? Are you okay now?”

She examined the bathroom door with all the scrutiny usually reserved for identifying microorganisms under a magnifying glass. After a couple of minutes she looked at Kelly, whose eyes were still fixed on hers. “Yeah. Everything’s cool.”

“Cool like okay?
How
okay? I mean . . .”

“
Okay
, okay.”

“Really? Okay like before you moved down to Corvallis?”

It took her a moment to decide. “I don’t really know how
okay
I was back then. I can’t remember.” She searched her memory.
Was
she okay before leaving Portland? When she was still with Drake? Was she
ever
really okay? Was there a specific moment in time when everything started to break down and get all confused, when she started to be
not
okay?

Kelly regarded her with an infuriating expression on her face. “That’s what I thought. You weren’t okay when you left, where you?” She paused. “After Drake . . . I mean . . .”

“I know what you mean.”

Thankfully, the waitress appeared with their order; Marissa grabbed a French fry and stuffed it in her mouth to end the conversation. Kelly sucked on her straw in an obscene way, and moaned loudly after her first swallow of chocolate milkshake. Marissa laughed so hard she practically spit out her chewed up fries. Kelly busted up too and they giggled like they had back in high school, before pieces of her mind began to crack and fall away into some other reality. For a few minutes, she felt as solid as the bench underneath her. Solid, and normal.