Page 65 of Delayed Intention
“Good morning, Miche.”
“What did you do to Lily? She sounded… wounded. She wouldn’t tell me what you did because, of course, she wouldn’t. But I could tell, even only having talked to her one other time since the early aughts, that you fucked up.”
I sighed. “I didn’t react well to her kindness. Suffice it to say, I was drunk and defensive and I… I don’t know why, but it was like I wanted to push her away. I mean, I told her from the beginning, I don’t do relationships…”
I stopped short. Even I could hear that I made this statement as an excuse to take what I want while giving fuck-all back to the other person. It seems even I can’t stand my bullshit anymore, so I stopped talking.
I swallow as I hear my sister sigh with an almost Herculean effort at not reaching through the phone to strangle her little brother.
“So,” I continued, “I said the most horrible things imaginable to her—throwing her trauma back in her face like she hadn’t changed or grown despite it. Then she told me she loved me, and I reacted so badly. I stood over her shouting at her, in the middle of a bar, leading the bartender and two patrons to throw me out and offer her protection. I negated all the work she’s done on herself and said she was the one with a fucked-up life due to the things that had happened to her.”
Michelle swore under her breath.
When my sister didn’t seem to want to say anything for a bit, I told her about Abbie’s call and advice.
“I knew you could be selfish, Josh, but I am thrown to hear you could be cruel to a woman. You’ll be lucky if she ever wants to speak to you again.”
“I know.”
Feeling despondency consolidate into my chest, it feels like I can’t catch a full breath. So,thisis rock bottom. Michelle continues to breathe into the phone for what feels like minutes but could have been seconds.
“What are you going to do now, Josh?”
“Whatever I can do to make things right.”
“But you’ve already done that with her. Maybe the kindest thing to do is to recognize that you will only hurt her and let her go.”
“Yeah. You're probably right, but I think I will leave that up to her. She has had to spend most of her life with other people deciding what she needed or what was best. Even if it is hard, I will show up for breakfast, apologize, and let her decide.”
For the first time, it occurs to me that I may lose Lily permanently. Today may be the last time I can speak with her, even as a friend. And it leaves me feeling hollow.
After showering, I texted Lily. I wanted to know if she had left town. I wouldn’t blame her if her common sense had informed her that self-preservation might be the better part of valor. She came here to help me, and instead, I may have destroyed everything between us.
Me
Hey. Do you still want to have breakfast with me?
Lily
Sure. Meet at Big Horn? 10 min?
Yes. See you there.
After filling up Ginger’s bowl and giving her a few ear scratches, I hop into my SUV and drive over. Pulling into the parking lot, I quickly find a spot. Lily is in her car one row over, and I decide to give her space by going into the diner first. Part of me wants to run over there, ask her if we could be okay again, beg her to forgive me, convince her I didn’t mean anything I said—because I didn’t. I thought about it all night. I didn’t mean any of what I said at all. I said those things to push her away. I hope like hell I didn’t succeed.
Once inside, I asked for a booth in the back. The back usually isn’t open this time of year, but I make it happen by slipping a bigger tip to the hostess than she would likely see all day. I added that I needed to apologize to a lady somewhere more private than the main dining hall. The hostess, who looked to be about my own mother’s age, looked me over and allowed it. I texted Lily and let her know I was in a booth in the back and waited.
I ordered coffee and continued to wait. It could be that she is on with her therapist. The thought that I’d play a part in making her feel that bad adds to the shame I know I deserve to feel. It was when I finished that first cup of coffee that I began to wonder if Lily was coming to meet me at all. Part of me wanted to go out to the parking lot and check, but the bigger part of me wanted to go on, pretending there was some hope I could salvage our relationship.
I could hear my leg tapping nervously on the floor below the booth. I looked down and checked my phone. I had folded my napkin into a small square without even realizing it. Not for the first time today, I started to feel nauseated. I heard but couldn’t see the jingle of the bell above the door, and sat straight up, the hope I felt creating a rush of warmth in my chest. As I looked to the entryway, however, I spied a middle-aged couple and their two teenage daughters coming in. They are arguing with their father about whether they should each order individual breakfasts or have to share something. I look behind them in the entryway, but Lily is not there.
Not being able to take it anymore, I went over to the window overlooking the parking lot from the back room to look for Lily. Her car was no longer in the spot it had been in before. I sent another text to ask if she had changed her mind. I finished a second cup of coffee and texted again, asking if she was okay. The hostess came over and asked me if I was going to order, and I went ahead and ordered eggs and pancakes and asked her to leave Lily’s menu there.
By the time I finished my breakfast and was paying at the counter, I had to face the fact that she was gone. I immediately worried about how she’d drive through the mountain cuts that terrify her. I texted her, confirming she was leaving today and asking her to let me know when she arrived home. I thought about how much that drive frightens her and what a piece of shit I am that she’s in this position, having to do this alone because of me.
After I pay my check, I drive by the motel she usually uses, looking for her car, but it’s gone. I checked my phone and saw she hadn’t even read my messages since I arrived at the restaurant. I’m not even on read anymore. She’s gone. Maybe for good? Even though I know I deserve it, I want to go after her; it takes everything in me not to chase her. Love is a choice, Abbie said. I’m not sure I know what the loving choice is anymore. If I’m honest with myself, I’m uncertain I will ever find out.
Wherever I Go, There I Am
