Saturday, November 7, 2009

Smoke & Mirrors: Chapter 7

Jon pulled out of the parking lot with Morgan in the passenger seat after her 72 hours was up. The girls had packed for her and gone through her room to make sure they didn’t accidentally pack anything she shouldn’t have.

“So, thanks for doing this…” she trailed off clearing her throat. “Guess I kinda acted like a bitch before. Wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want to talk to me after that…”

“Don’t worry about it,” he told her “You didn’t know what you were doing.”

Jon cast a glance at her. She looked pale, with no make up. She only wore blue jeans, a gray tee shirt and her hoodie, that was now drug-free, thanks to Jess. He had already watched Morgan check the pockets, and the bag that had been packed.

“Can we take a detour?” she asked, not five minutes into the ride. She was looking out the window, and saw this great tattoo place. Of course, Jess had repeatedly told her she wasn’t getting a tattoo, and so had the other girls, but Jon didn’t have anything against them as far as she knew.

“Nope,” he said plainly. “No tattoos.”

“Are you serious? I can’t believe Jess told everybody I couldn’t have one! I can have whatever I want, okay? And you’re not stopping me.”

“You’re right,” Jon told her, stopping at a red light. “You could get out right now, and go in there. But think about it. You have no money, no transportation. How would you support yourself?”

Morgan shrugged. “Sell stuff.”

Jon sent her a hard look as he took his foot of the brake and started driving again. “You don’t have any stuff to sell. The girls checked your clothes they packed.”

“Sure, I do,” she said defiantly. “There’s plenty of men who would pay for this.”

But Jon could see her adjusting her ponytail as she said the words.

“Shut up,” he told her sharply.

“Dude, it was a joke! Chill!” she exclaimed.

“Well, it wasn’t funny. Any asshole who would use a woman like that is trash.”

Morgan sat silently in her seat, glaring at Jon. She had already checked to see if they had missed any of the good places she liked to stash things, but there was nothing left. Nothing to distract her from the hellish nightmare her mind and her memories had become.

Casually, she reached out, letting her hand brush Jonathan’s thigh. Even after his jaw tensed, she left it there.

“Morgan,” he managed, as the hand on his thigh started to move.

He pulled the car onto the shoulder of the road. “Take your hand off me. Now,” he told her, keeping his voice level.

She blinked at him, confused. She might have feigned innocence and tried to push things a little further, but his brown eyes blazed, and looked a little dangerous, so she backed off, crossing her arms instead.

“This is gonna be okay,” he told her, softening his tone. “If you’re nervous, you can talk to me. But don’t mess with me. Next time that happens, you’re in the back, behind the passenger seat,” he nodded in the rearview mirror. Then he pulled back onto the road.

Morgan swallowed, as shame rose in her cheeks. She wasn’t used to being called out. She figured, after Buddy, that all guys must want it. After all, Liam never said no. But, Morgan remembered, she always wished that he had.

They drove in silence for a while. Morgan rested her head against the window and tried to sleep, but found it impossible. Even though she was tired, she couldn’t sleep. So, she glanced out the window at the scenery until it made her dizzy.

She turned back to Jon cautiously. “So, will you tell everybody bye for me?” Morgan asked timidly.

“Sure,” Jon agreed, pulling into a McDonald’s drive-thru. “Hey, what do you want? Your last taste of fast food for a while,” he joked, hoping she would take it in the spirit it was meant.

“I guess that means it’s time for a Big Mac,” Morgan sighed, but a smile touched her lips for the first time. Normally, she hated greasy food, but the prospect of not having it for at least thirty day made her crave it. And French fries, and one of those parfait things with the fruit.”

Jon let her get it all, and got just as much himself, but went for a chicken sandwich instead of a burger. He still got the fries though. No matter how health-conscious he pretended to be, he couldn’t resist them.

They were silent until all the food was eaten, and Morgan started to think too much and get agitated again. But she didn’t want to ruin the little bit of normalcy she had with Jon, so she decided she would risk being honest instead of doing something she would regret, or sounding like an idiot.

But before Morgan knew it, they were pulling up in front of this huge-ass place in the middle of the woods that reminded her an awful lot of college.

“It’s beautiful here,” he remarked, parking the car, and slinging her bag over his shoulder.

“Hey, Jon?”

And he turned, to see her standing in the bright sunlight, squinting at him.

“I’m sorry,” she told him plainly, tucking her hands in her pockets. “I’m sorry I got so screwed up. I don’t know what happened. How I got here…” she trailed off, scuffing the toe of one sneaker on the asphalt.

“Well, that’s what you’re here to figure out,” he told her. “Can I hug you goodbye?” he asked, because he wasn’t sure that kind of thing would be allowed once they were inside. It sort of reminded him of prison, with a lot of rules.

“You can say no,” he added.

“No, that’s fine,” she nodded, appreciating that he waited an extra second to be sure, before folding her into his arms.

She stood still, but eventually took her hands out of her pockets to hug him back. She didn’t know if anybody would visit her here. It was a lot farther away. This might be the last time she saw him for a long time.

And she would definitely miss him, Morgan decided. Jon, the guy who always dressed in designer everything, but wore sweats and a tee shirt for this trip. She would miss the way he always looked out for her. The way he always told the truth. The way he was man enough to stand up for her integrity as a woman, when she couldn’t manage to do it for herself. She would even miss how he didn’t put up with any of her shit.

“Tell the girls and Christian I love them. The boys, too,” she said against his shoulder.

When he pulled her back at arm’s length, the question lingering in his eyes, despite Jon’s best efforts to hide it. He couldn’t stop himself from wondering what she would want to say to Liam.

Reading the question in his eyes, Morgan shook her head slightly.

Together, they headed inside, and Jonathan stood beside her, until they told him he had to leave. As he turned to walk away he heard her voice at his back.

“Jonathan.”

He turned one last time, adjusting the bill of his brown knit cap.

“Thank you,” she said honestly.

Nodding slightly, he continued out the door, knowing Morgan had a long journey ahead of her. This was only the first step.

--

Liam grimaced as he walked through the living room. Nathaniel and that Cary were getting entirely too close to each other on the couch, and that was just disgusting, if you asked Liam. But of course, no one did.

And then there was Jon. Ever since he had dropped Morgan off at whatever worldly rehab Jess had found, he had been so quiet and moody. Whenever Liam tried to talk to him about Morgan, Jon gave him these looks that were just rude.

This wasn’t how Liam wanted to be spending his vacation. He needed time to himself, sure. But he couldn’t handle this tension and rejection from Jon, and two men cuddling on his couch. It made Liam regret forgoing the house rules at all, because now he couldn’t very well enforce them, without being labeled a hypocrite.

But it couldn’t be misconstrued as impolite if Liam just asked Nathaniel to tone down the gay stuff. No, Liam decided. It wasn’t. He should be able to walk through his living room without having to look at unnatural acts. He shouldn’t have to be stuck in his room because he was afraid of what he might see if he risked going to other parts of the house.

He stood in the hall, arms crossed, and cleared his throat. Liam glared at the TV that was blaring some awful Will Ferrell movie about an anchorman. Jon even liked it, and had tried to convince Liam to watch it, too, because the rating wasn’t what Liam considered unsavory. But it was still disgusting, the way it encouraged women to be viewed as nothing more than sexual objects in the workplace, and that men were just full of testosterone and couldn’t control themselves.

It was a full sixty seconds before Nathaniel or Cary even glanced his way.

“What’s up?” Cary asked, stretching out on the full length of the couch. Nate was sitting at the other end so their feet met in the middle. It was nice, tangling and untangling them. “Wanna watch?” he asked, gesturing to the screen.

“No, I really wouldn’t,” Liam shook his head, barely concealing his loathing.

“What’s your problem?” Nate asked. It had been a while since he had needed to deal with Liam and his closed-mindedness, but now, with Morgan gone, it seemed that if Liam couldn’t have fun, he didn’t want anyone else having any either.

“Could you guys just…I don’t know…tone down the gay stuff?” Liam asked, as he excused himself to go to the kitchen.

“We’re playing footsie,” Cary told him flatly. “Since when is that gay?”

“Since I have to watch two men do it on my couch,” Liam muttered darkly.

Nathaniel was off the couch before Liam could blink. “After all the crap you did to Morgan and you’re going to dare tell me and my boyfriend what we can and can’t do? I don’t think so.” He’d gotten right into Liam’s face and was glowering down at him with the extra inch or two of height he possessed.

“Calm down, man. You’re so sensitive about everything…” Liam retorted, his tone clearly implying that Nate was overreacting.

“You wanna know something?” Nate asked. “You wanna know how lucky you are that Jonathan and I just didn’t move our asses out of here and leave you to scrape together the rent yourself for the rest of the year? Pretty damn lucky.”

“Oh, like you have anyplace to go,” Liam scoffed.

“He can move in with me anytime. He knows that,” Cary interjected.

“And there’s no way Jonathan would take the pansy’s way out, and not even talk to me first,” Liam spat.

Nathaniel took a meaningful step forward, and Cary got to his feet, but neither was quicker than Jon, who had heard the exchange from the pisser and came out just in time to hear the last comment. Angrily, he stalked up and plowed a fist into Liam’s gut.

“Keep making jack-assed remarks like that…watch what happens…” Jon threatened in a low tone.

On the floor, Liam gasped and coughed. He might just throw up right now. “I didn’t mean anything by it,” he ground out.

“Who’s a damn pansy now?” Nate asked, stepping over Liam on the way out the door.

Cary was at his side in a second, and Jon followed close behind, a can of Coke and an ice cream drumstick in his hand.

“It’s freezing out here, how can you eat that?” Nate wondered, already plotting how he could get a bite when Jonathan wasn’t looking.

“So, where would you go if you moved out?” Cary asked. “I mean, you’re more than welcome to move in with us.”

Jon shrugged. “Probably move in with the other guys. They could use a little class over there. I hear Bryan’s the only one who cleans up anything after himself. Aaron just bitches about it, and Coby will help Jess clean any day of the week, but couldn’t find the hamper if it was two feet in front of him.”

“Gross,” Cary wrinkled his nose at how unkempt the other apartment was. He burst out laughing as Nathaniel managed a bite of Jon’s ice cream cone.

“What the hell?” Jon exclaimed, but he was grinning. “Get your own.”

“No way I’m going back in there with hetero-explosion,” Nate denied. They walked a little farther, stopping at the skate park on 7th Avenue where Morgan skated on her better days.

There was a long pause while no one said anything, just watched the other skaters. Jon handed his ice cream to Nate who licked it thoughtfully.

“So, how was she when you dropped her off?” Nate asked finally. It had been a few days, and Jon hadn’t said a word about it.

“Feisty, with an attitude,” Jon admitted. “She tried to convince me to stop by the damn tattoo place in the ghetto so she could get one before she went. Tried some other shit on me, too. None of it worked.”

“What other shit?” Nate asked crunching into the cone.

Jon’s quiet look said all that Nate and Cary needed to know. “She told me thank you, though. She told us thank you, I guess. And that she’s sorry. She wants you guys to know she loves you.”

“Seems like a tough girl,” Cary mused.

“There’s no one tougher,” Jon nodded.

“I love her, too,” Nate said quietly, staring at the skaters and thinking of the girl he had shared so much with. Who loved him even when he was insecure and shy and didn’t believe he had any worth at all.

Now, it was his turn to give all that love back. To pray and believe that the smoke would dissipate, and the mirror would eventually show the old Morgan.

--

“So, how exactly do you want to do this?” Jess asked.

It was a small miracle that Libby was feeling creative that day, and decided to dedicate all of it to making St. Patrick’s Day decorations and cookies, and apparently, really needed Christian to work as her assistant. It was also a miracle that Christian agreed, because sometimes, especially whenever Jess had someplace to go that wasn’t school or work or the hospital for therapy, he kind of freaked out sometimes. He didn’t like to be away from her more than he had to be.

For some reason, though, her being with Bryan was okay because Bryan was good at taking care of people, like Coby. She talked about it with him the night before, and he had told her that he was already going to ask her if he could be Libby’s trusty assistant.

It worked out well, since Legend was working a lot, and Emily had gone home to spend a little time with her family, and get away from the craziness. She did that sometimes, and Jess couldn’t say she blamed her. Jess might have done the same thing, if she had any family she could count on.

“Well,” Bryan said, setting up all his paperwork and tape-recorder on the table in his kitchen. “I’m just going to test you in different areas to see if I can execute the tests right. It’s not really about you. It’s more about me having the experience dealing with a real person. And since you’re one of the greatest, I figured you wouldn’t be too upset if I messed up or did something wrong,” he smiled endearingly.

“Where’s Aaron today?” Jess asked, looking around. Usually, on vacations, Aaron could be found lounging on the couch watching hours of TV and eating junk, or generally being a pain. She knew Coby was out at a house-painting job.

“Oh, he’s got a ton of schoolwork to catch up on. So, I made him go to the library,” Bryan admitted, flipping through his stacks of notes.

“Poor them,” Jess laughed.

“Well, it’s supposed to be as distraction-free as possible, and I couldn’t have him barging in here to get snacks or hollering at the TV.”

“And Coby’s really distracting,” Jess grinned. “So, it’s a good thing you got rid of him for the day, otherwise, I probably wouldn’t be able to concentrate on anything.”

“Okay, are you ready to start?” he asked.

Jess nodded, and forced herself to stop smiling so much. When it came to Coby it was hard, but she made herself. This was for school, and she wanted Bryan to get a good grade.

“So, first thing’s first,” Bryan explained. “I’m recording this so that I can have a reference when I go back and write the paper. How you did on the tests will be included, but I wont use your name. You don’t need to be nervous.”

“Are you kidding?” she asked, shaking her head. “I could never be nervous with you. Especially if the results don’t matter.”

Jess tried to smile, but the truth was she was nervous. She hadn’t had any kind of test anxiety that she could recall before. Now, the idea that how many wrong answers she got would be recorded, made Jess wish Bryan hadn’t said anything about it.

“Okay,” Bryan smiled. “Here we go,” he said, and pressed a button on the tape-recorder.

--

“I think green bread is kinda gross,” Christian told Libby honestly.

Libby sighed. “Christian. It’s not St. Patrick’s Day without green bread. My parents always got it for me and my brother.”

“But green is like mold. And mold is bad for you,” Christian told her importantly, sitting in the cart while Libby pushed him.

“But this green is from food-coloring. The same that we use to make our cookies green, or green eggs and ham.”

“Is Morgan gonna be home for St. Patrick’s Day?” Christian wondered. I want to show her how good I can skateboard.”

“Nope, Morgan has to stay where she is for a while. She needs a long time to get better, and we want to be sure she’s as better as she can be before she comes home again.”

“But I miss her though. It’s kind of like before when Legend was the only one home with me and everybody else was gone places getting better.”

Libby stopped the cart beside the food coloring and looked at him. “I can’t believe you remember all that.”

“I remember lots of things,” he told her matter-of-factly. “Morgan was gone that time just like she’s gone now.”

“Right, but she came back then, and she’s coming back this time, okay? We just have to be patient.” Libby reassured him. “And somebody will always be able to take care of you.”

“I know that, silly,” he said, smiling, and showing off the gap where he had lost a tooth in his Kix cereal one morning. All the girls had given him a dollar. So he had five of them. It worked pretty good, too, because he was five.

“Excuse me,” a lady with blonde hair and make-up said, bumping her cart into Libby’s.

“Oh, no. Excuse us,” Libby said, moving the cart off to one side so she could get by.

“Are you Elizabeth Wright from the High City campus?” the lady asked in a whisper.

Christian gave Libby a funny look. That’s because nobody called her Elizabeth except for his mom when she got in trouble for sneaking dessert.

“Yes, ma’am,” Libby admitted uncomfortably. This was the consequence, she supposed, for driving a half-hour out of the way for green bread.

“I thought I recognized you!“ she said, her face splitting into a wide knowing grin. “We sure have been praying for you down the street at the Methodist church,” the woman told her somberly. “I can’t imagine going through what you did and coming out of it, well, normally,” she said, keeping her tone low and furtive. “I mean, after what was done to you, and after how long you all spent in that room…” she let the sentence trail, and covered Libby’s hand with her own.

Pulling her hand away, Libby tried to steer the cart around the woman, but she blocked the aisle, having parked her own sideways. A child was inside, a little younger than Christian.

“I mean, in this day and age, I guess anything is possible, but to think that a man like that was walking around,” she shuddered in an exaggerated fashion.

“I appreciate the prayers, but I’d rather not talk about it,” Libby managed, her face flushing. She hated that she was suddenly recognizable to some people, and that they felt like they knew her, even though she had no idea who they were.

“Oh, of course. Would you mind if I prayed for you now?” the lady asked, putting her hand on Libby’s head.

“No, thank you,” Libby said, trying to turn them around, but the lady went right along, praying in some weird language Libby didn’t understand.

Christian scowled at the lady. He didn’t like it when strangers came up to his mom and did this. His mom explained it was because they felt bad about what happened and wanted to help. But sometimes, they didn’t listen when his mom said no to them, either. That’s when Christian used his secret weapon. He decided to use it this time, too.

“Stranger!” he screamed so loud that it made Libby jump. Everybody around them turned to look, and the praying lady took her hand off of Libby’s head.

Leaning down, Libby scooped up Christian from the cart, and carried him out of the store. “Good boy,” he told her, kissing his cheek.

--

Jess was getting a headache.

Bryan had already tested her on word-retrieval, which Jess already knew was spotty, especially if it was a pressure situation. She had blanked on the names of more than one thing he pointed out.

Her speech clarity was okay, so she didn’t really stress about that, but when he made her speak the names of certain things a lot slower, she felt really self-conscious and stupid. But she kept her mouth closed. The last thing she wanted was for him to play the tape back and hear her whining about how she felt dumb.

But when it came time for the test with reading huge numbers out loud, like 3,468 and $2,345.52, Jess was about ready to lose it. Numbers were the thing that had come back the slowest, and she could barely add simple numbers, much less read big ones like that.

“Take your time,” Bryan urged. He could see that this test in particular was stressful, but Jess wasn’t a quitter. He was patient and didn’t do any of the things they were taught not to do like look at his watch or pressure her to get going.

“What do you want to do?” he asked gently after another minute had gone by and Jess still hadn’t read the first number.

“Can you turn this off?” she asked, sounding really close to tears.

Quickly, Bryan reached over and did as she asked. “Sure. What is it?”

“I’m fine,” she insisted. “I just need a break.”

Nodding, Bryan went to work, clearing all remnants of the tests, so Jess wouldn’t have to look at them.

“Of course. I’m sorry. I should have asked that myself,” Bryan realized, wincing as his shoulder throbbed unexpectedly.

“I can still finish,” Jess maintained, wiping a hand across her eyes. “I just need, like, a minute. I suck with numbers, still. I can barely add,” she confided as heat flooded her face again.

“Hey, that’s fine. Then, I’ll skip that one. It’s not fair to have you try something you’re not ready for,” Bryan said, making a mental note to himself.

Jess shrugged. “Should have tested me in September. Then, I would have known all the answers.” she said smiling in spite of her tears.

Silently, Bryan covered her hand with his own. “You still like me better than your speech therapist?” he asked wryly.

“Well, you’re definitely nicer…” she admitted, composing herself. “You actually have a soul, and don’t push me when I know I’m done.”

Bryan reached down for his notebook and jotted something down.

“What are you doing now? Quoting me as an ego-boost?” she questioned lightly.

He shook his head. “Nope. Taking points off on my self-evaluation, for not being more attentive.”

“Fine,” Jess nodded. “But I’m giving them back when I do my own evaluation of you. You didn’t forget on purpose.”

--

An hour later, when Jess and Bryan reentered Grand Central, the last thing they expected to smell was sauerkraut and Polish sausage. And they definitely didn’t expect to see Emily in the kitchen. As far as Jess knew, Emily still needed to be told where to find a spoon if she needed one, despite the fact that they only had one drawer.

“I thought we were having green stuff for dinner,” Jess objected, smiling at the sight of Emily at the stove, with sizzling pans around her, wielding a spatula.

“Well, we were,” Emily clarified sweetly, as she took a sleeve of soda crackers and smashed them on the floor. “And then some crazy lady recognized Lib in the grocery store, so they left their cart and came back here. Since she wasn’t in the mood to cook anymore, I said I’d make my specialty. She and Christian are decorating instead.”

“Cholesterol?” Bryan guessed, jumping out of the way when Emily tried to smack him with the spatula.

“No! Polish sausage, scalloped corn and sauerkraut! It’s the best.”

“I thought you were staying with your mom and dad for a bit,” Jess said, taking off her coat.

“Yeah, well. It’s a good thing to make sure they’ll actually be there before driving an hour. And they weren’t. Miles wasn’t either,” she added, including her teenage little brother. “So, I had to turn around and drive all the way back, but it’s really a blessing, because without me, what would we be doing for supper?”

“I have no idea…” Jess said, shaking her head.

--

Legend was driving home from work when her phone rang, showing an unfamiliar number. Usually, she ignored calls she didn’t recognize but with Morgan gone, Legend had started picking up every call, just in case.

“Hello?” she said, pulling her truck onto the main road that would lead her back home.

“Hey, Legend,” Morgan said, sniffling.

“Hey, girl. What’s up?” she asked, not able to completely shake the suspicion or the bitterness that came up when she spoke to her friend now. It came right along with the fierce protectiveness and love Legend felt.

“This is really dumb,” Morgan managed. “Because I’m so grateful for everything you guys have done for me.”

Legend waited, not saying anything. With Morgan, especially now, Legend had no idea whether she would lie or be truthful.

“I mean, I love you guys. I really do. But…” she seemed to force the word out. “I miss my mom and dad. I miss my family…” she trailed off, breaking down.

Legend was silent, pulling the truck into her parking space and turning it off.

“They always said they’d be here for me, no matter what, and now they don’t want anything to do with me. They just call to yell at me and tell me how bad I screwed up and how bad it makes them look. They said I‘m not their daughter…” Morgan said, her voice breaking.

Sitting quietly, Legend rested her head on the steering wheel and wept, too. She couldn’t imagine her own parents saying the same to her, especially if she was dealing with the toughest thing she had ever dealt with. Even though it was difficult, she was glad to hear from Morgan when she was starting to really feel things again, instead of burying them. To Legend, it was the first, true sign of healing.

“They love you,” she insisted, listening to Morgan try to compose herself. “You need to trust that. And know that even if they stop, that God never will. You’ll always be His daughter.”

“I don’t want to be His daughter,” Morgan said brokenly. “He left me.”

“No. He never has left you, and He never will. And ,want to be or not, you are His daughter. He loves you, no matter what,” Legend told her firmly. “How are those twelve steps going?”

“Slow,” Morgan admitted. “I’ve only been here a couple days, and I’m already overwhelmed. I don’t want to let go of the control. Otherwise, who knows? You know?”

“Keep working on it,” Legend encouraged. “Remember that God knows, and He loves you. And remember that even if your family never comes around, that you have us.”

“Okay,” Morgan nodded. “Well, I have to go soon but how are you guys?”

“We’re good,” Legend answered, keeping things simple. “I think Jon and Emily are planning on coming to your family week. And…I just got a text message before you called that says Emily’s taken over the kitchen, and is making dinner. German food,” she shuddered.

“How come she never cooked when I lived there?” Morgan asked, laughing a little.

“Hey, you’re lucky. Trust me.” Legend said laughing. But she grew serious, telling Morgan, “I love you. We all love you. Okay? Work hard, and stop fighting so hard. You’re safe there.”

“I’m trying,” Morgan said honestly and hung up.

She felt a little stronger now. Like maybe, with her friends’ support - and God, if He was here - she could start dealing with her demons.

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