Page 18 of Flying

Pulling her lightly closer into a full embrace, I feel her body goslack and my muscles loosen. Once sitting down together, her cries resume and gain strength. Unsure what to say, I hope my fingers can convey comfort by running lightly through her soft waves up the nape of her neck. I guide her head so she can rest on my shoulder.

“I saw Belinda. Almost knocked her over entering the ladies’ room. When I came out she was gone. Didn’t say a word. Not even sorry or excuse me like I was a stranger. I was nothing. Air.” Then she lowers her voice, “She’s so disappointed in me, she has barely spoken to me since the fire.”

There’s a relief in her voice. A hope that someone will believe her and maybe even take her side. Ironically, if she asked any of the people downstairs still cleaning out my mid-tier spirits, they would even if she was in the wrong.

“I called Mom from the road, but she tried to convince me to come back. She was trying to bait me that she was just looking out for me. She just wanted to help. I knew I needed at least a few days, and told her I was going to see Stef. When I called her a few days later she decided I was probably the problem with Grant. She started to ask me the most invasive questions. ‘Did you make sure that he was fulfilled, sexually? Were you working on your cooking enough? Was the house spotless? Were you too needy? Moody?”

Blowing her nose, she took a minute to compose herself. “Anyway, at no point did she actually, you know, blame Grant for sleeping with Landan. Or even blame Landan! Fuck, if you were going to blame a woman, couldn’t you blame the chick who screamed that he was her Grant as if she didn’t dump him for someone else? I mean, fuck, Mom demanded I come home and beg for his forgiveness.”

I understand the gravity better now. The fortress around Lily’s heart was not just Grant’s betrayal. It was Belinda’s.

Lily was stuck in the trap of the good girl syndrome. Nessa’s Feminist Romance Book Club would be proud I listened. They also would tell me not to mansplain, so I continue to sit and let her process.

After another twenty minutes, I hear the apology in her shaky voice and cut her off, “Lil…” She gazes up at me, her brown eyes ringed red but the tears have finally slowed down. “You know that’s all about her right? I can’t sit here with you and believe for a minute the woman who has been traveling the globe solo could believe in any way that she is weak, incompetent, or unworthy.”

She leans back against my chest, and my heart races with an anger I want to hold in to focus on her comfort. It feels impossible to strike the right balance.

“First, I’m going to try to not be that guy who fixes anything because I don’t believe that you, Lily, are broken at all. Next, I’m going to tell you a bunch of things you know but I think are important for you to hear. Now. Tonight.” My arms pull tighter, and I worry the force will crush her but she sinks into the pressure.

“You’re amazing. You have been since you first arrived in elementary school, you are loving and creative. Friendships are work, I have done a terrible job being your friend, haven’t I? You sent the girls puzzles in three bags and notes across postcards. You made games for them to connect even when you were away because you wanted to be part of things too. Meanwhile, I chased a ghost here and prayed my small travels could land me in the same place as you. I should have asked if you needed a friend. Every place I traveled, brunettes with a snarky mouth made me double-take.”

Our gazes meet and the intensity of this moment isn’t lost on me. I am in awe, and she looks completely confused.

I wish I could explain how once a drunk Grant started to talk about Landan at his bachelor party, I wanted to interfere. So many days and nights I’ve been torn up over guilt. I wanted to beg her not to go through with it, I wanted to interrupt when the priest said speak now or forever hold your peace. Except, I can’t do that to her now. No, not after she told me how the divorce didn’t just move her away from everyone, or sever the relationship with Grant. No, the divorce was also between a mom and daughter. I owe her such a large apology, and I can’t give it to her. If I take Lily back ten years, she’ll fly off and not look back again. I would ruin things for Stef and Lee.

Before I can figure out what to say next, she presses the softest kiss on my cheek. I hold her tighter, and she’s nestled into my lap—curled into herself like a little ball. Looking over her shoulder at Pete, I realize she’s curled up remarkably similar to her dog.

With a soft and low laugh, I ask, “You ever hear you and your dog are pretty much the same?”

She giggles in return and says, “In my previous life, I think I was a Shiba. I’m high energy, emotional, I want you to touch me on my terms only, and I love naps. Thank you,” she kisses my cheek again and I contemplate just turning my head slightly and capturing her mouth with mine. Before I can, she yawns and drifts off to sleep.

Glancing at my phone I see the time: 3:33 a.m.. I reluctantly follow her example and drift to sleep with her in my arms one more time.

fourteen

Lily

Ten Years Ago

I climb into the teal Jeep Wrangler the Morgans gifted us and cut clear across Pennsylvania. I’m going to Stef’s dorm in the Midwest since Belinda and Neal, no longer deserving the titles of Mom or Dad, are taking Grant’s side. The town’s side. Belinda agrees with anyone who she deems has status above me, and Neal will always pick his wife. In my moment of need, I couldn’t turn to her.Some mom.

No it will be far better to share a twin bed in a dorm than be publicly humiliated.

I finally arrive and fall into her arms, dropping a duffle bag big as the ones under my eyes at her feet. Collapsing, I finally feel safe enough to truly fall apart.

The next few days are blurry, maybe it is three days later now? I’m not sure, I don’t think I’ve moved. Stef brings me fries and ice cream and tries to convince me to at least nibble. I should shower. I should make a plan. Instead, I’ve been stuck thinking; unable to start.

“Girl, Grant sucks. So you two broke up. So what? Wasn’t that inevitable? You are barely nineteen! It’s pretty rare to be together forever at our age,” she reminds me in her matter of fact way.

“It’s not a break up,” I sniffle, “I’m getting a divorce.”

“Sure, break up. Divorce. Whatever. It’s only serious if you think it is. It’s not like you were totally on board with the insanity Belinda pushed on you. Restart. Build a normal life. Reapply here! Also, in case I didn’t say it enough yet: Grant sucks.”

“God damnit, you bitch. You knew I wasn’t even able to cry over this. No, being mean to me is one thing. But this,” I gesture towards the dorm bed I’d taken over, covered in remnants of dining hall take out and lists of movies to watch. “Kindness would crack me, and you knew. You’re going to hold a grudge aren’t you?

“Yep, until Landan and Grant take their final breath. I’m not sure who I hate more,” she confirms.

“I know that I hate her,” I confirm.

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