Page 27 of Delayed Intention
Karaoke Night
Josh, Estes Park, November 2024
Stepping inside the bar, I notice it’s practically deserted, being a Monday afternoon in the off-season. I chose it because it is within walking distance from both our places, but luckily, it does have a pretty decent selection of beer. I’m sure it’s not anything like the type of high-end place she would find in Maryland. It’s a dark, kind of grim-looking, barebones establishment that is meant for drinking, and not much else.
“You mind if we sit in that booth by the back wall?” Lily indicates the furthest booth away by nodding her head in that direction.
“Sure.” I follow her. She’s wearing a fitted green sweater with black jeans and white tennis shoes. She looks incredible. When the waitress comes by, Lily orders some kind of cranberry cocktail and mozzarella sticks while I order chips and dip with a beer. I smile, thinking her food selections have not changed much since the last time we hung out.
“So,” she begins, “I don’t date.”
“You mentioned it.”
She takes her time, pausing to take sips of the water before her.
“I’m not gay.” She searches my face for a reaction that I don’t give her. “My family thinks I am. I know because Roselyn asked me. I mean, there’s nothing wrong with being gay. My best friend, Abbie, is. But I’m not.”
“Alright.” That wasn’t on my radar, but I don’t elaborate. She was so nervy earlier, and I figure the less I say, the more comfortable she will be to say whatever she feels she needs to tell me.
“I know I’m not asexual or anything. I just… Well, something happened, back in 2005.” She gulps down the rest of her water when the waitress comes by with the appetizers and her cocktail. She looks relieved at the sight of the drink and takes a swallow right away, closing her eyes as she does. For my part, I try to keep from looking at her mouth when she does so.
When she opens her eyes, she begins again. “I’ve only told two other people this, and one is my therapist. The other is Nona. But I don’t know how else to make you understand the awkwardness. And honestly, I know it’s part of why I ghosted you back then. I didn’t answer your calls after I left—I meant to call you a few months later. I thought I was having all these feelings, you didn’t reciprocate, and I wanted some space, and I was gonna call. But then, everything got worse, at home.”
“Okay.”God, what is she going to tell me?I am freaking out while trying to appear calm, so I start drinking more of my beer. I don’t want to scare her off, yet I feel this urgent need to get this conversation over with. I work to remind myself that this isn’t about me. I feel myself go into clinical mode to restrain myself from saying whatever pops into my head. I need to let her say what she needs to say, in her own time.
She sips at her drink.
“When I was fifteen, my mother got me a job working in the office of a colleague of hers, Dr. Kellerman. He seemed cool at first, training me to do all this medical assistant stuff, taking me out for coffee.” She stops watching me and looks down at the ice in her nearly empty glass. With a sense of foreboding, I start to feel the floor shifting under me. There is only one way this story could go, and I’m torn between wanting to hear her and not wanting to know. Lily is paused, lost in thought, and I take the opportunity to wave our waitress over and order two shots of whiskey.
Once the waitress moves out of earshot, she picks up the thread. “I was such an idiot. I know I was a kid, and I know, intellectually, that I couldn’t have done anything differently, but it’s hard for me not to take responsibility. Anyway, one day he had me in his office. He said my mother had explained about my issues and my aversion to being touched.” My beer tastes flat, and I push it to the side, half drunk. Lily looks at me again and then looks down.
“At first, I was happy.” She looks so sad; my heart feels like it is cracking in half. “He said my parents clearly didn’t understand I had an anxiety disorder. I thought he was going to help me and explain it to her so she would finally see me and understand me. So she would love me as I am.” She can’t meet my eyes, but I won’t look away despite the moisture I feel building in them. I want to reach out for her hand, but I don’t dare presume to know what she needs, so I keep my hands below the table as they turn into fists.
My voice cracks from disuse or emotion when I open my mouth to speak. “Lily, you don’t have to tell me more. Unless you want to.”
“I know.” She’s looking down still, and I want to hug her, grab her hand, line up shots… anything but this. She goes on and I don’t drop my eyes off her face.
“So, we’re in his office one day, and he somehow got between me and the door.” The waitress returns with our shots, and we throw them back. Me, without taking my eyes off her; she, without lifting them from the table. “He kissed me. No, that’s not right. It wasn’t anything like a kiss because I didn’t want that. I mean, he was older than my father. What he did was he took me in his arms and pressed his lips to mine.” She shudders. “That’s nothing like a kiss,” she whispers fiercely, almost to herself. She swipes at her eyes with the back of her hands with more force than I’m comfortable with. “He did more than that over the next year—I won’t go into more details. I only admitted all of this to my therapist recently. And the details, I can’t speak of that. I’m not entirely sure I remember everything correctly because I had to leave myself, you know?”
With that question, she looks up at me, eyes bright with something—maybe determination? “That wasn’t the worst part, though.” She smiles, half a smile that doesn’t meet her eyes. “I tried to tell my mother, and she wouldn’t believe me. She made me finish working at his office once a week for a year.”
She closes her eyes. Before I can say a word, she adds, “He’s dead now. Killed himself when other girls came forward.”
“Did Ellen know that others came forward?” I cannot believe how calm my voice sounds because my vision is tunneling.
“Probably. She’s never admitted as much to me, but it was all over the news. His poor family.”
She’s worried about his family.Typical. Meanwhile, I don’t know how I’ll ever face Drs. Ray and Ellen Mendes without punching one of them in the face.
All I manage is, “I think I need another drink.”
“I feel that.” She turns to signal the waitress again, ordering us each two more shots.
“After that, I kind of went wild for a few years. It wasn’t that I particularly wanted to hook up with a bunch of different guys.” She is looking at me, eyes shining. “I wanted control of my body back. So I thought I was taking charge by… working through more than a few one-night stands. Instead, I only succeeded in feeling more out of control and emptier than ever. After that, I just kind of shut down.”
What do I say? What can I say? That I’m sorry? Would that even mean anything to her?As if reading my mind, or maybe the look on my face, Lily surprises me by grabbing my hand. It’s so brief I almost wonder if I imagined it.
“You don’t have to say anything, Josh. Whatever needs to be said is not for you to say. I just wanted you to know what happened.”
