Page 84 of Damnation
My stomach clenches so hard it almost takes my breath away. In the face of all this pain, none of my anger seems to matter. I take his face in my hands and force him to look me in the eyes. “Yes, you can, Thomas.”
He shakes his head again. “You don’t get it… That place hurtme.”
“That place is your home. It was your father who hurt you, and he isn’t there now.”
Thomas stares at me for a long moment without speaking. He searches my face before putting his hand over mine and squeezing it. “I know you have a million good reasons to be pissed at me. I hurt you, I know I did, and I won’t try to justify my behavior. You may not believe me after what I said last night, but I need you more than you could possibly imagine, Ness.”
I can feel my heart pounding in my chest. Even though he put me through hell today with his absence, he’s being sincere right now. I can see it in his eyes. I let out a breath I didn’t even realize I was holding. “You drive me crazy, Thomas. You don’t even know how much. I disagree with at least three-quarters of the things you say and do. And you should know that I am still very angry with you. You’re going to have to find some way to actually make it up to me this time because, yes, you hurt me. Deeply. But I think I’ve hurt you too, many times since we’ve known each other. I wasn’t intending to, but I don’t consider myself an innocent in this…” I am about to tell him that, despite all our screwups, I am here for him, with him, and that I will be for as long as he wants, but I don’t have time, because he interrupts me.
“Come with me.”
I stare at him in astonishment for a few seconds, just blinking. “What?”
“Come with me,” he repeats in a serious voice. Is he actually asking me to go with him to his parents’ house?
“Thomas…you haven’t seen your mother for a long time; don’t you think it would be better for everyone if you two had some time to yourselves?” I offer in a soft voice.
“I need you by my side.”
I can’t stop staring at him in shock. He wants me there with him. He wants my support, my presence. It’s a huge step that I wasn’t expecting from Thomas, especially now that I know what it means for him to setfoot in that place again after all this time. I can’t tell him no. I don’t want to.
“Okay, I’ll come with you.”
Twenty
“Do you realize that our country has the highest incarceration rate in the world?” I start off indignantly as Thomas concentrates on driving toward Portland. “And that’s to say nothing of the incidents of police brutality! There are millions of cases of physical and psychological violence, corruption, and abuse of power committed against American citizens, especially in communities of color. It’s infuriating! How is it possible that we are in the twenty-first century, and we still can’t stop this national shame?” Before vehemently shutting my laptop, I make sure to save the file with all my documentation for the article I’m working on. I’ve decided to take it with me so as not to waste precious time, and I can have Leila take a look at it when we get there.
I put the laptop back in my bag along with a packet of documents I’ve gathered. I take my water bottle out of the BMW’s cup holder and sip from it while I watch Thomas from the corner of my eye. He’s nervous. I can see it in the way he drums his fingers on the steering wheel, in his skittish look, and in the way he keeps fiddling with his tongue piercing almost compulsively. Plus, I know he didn’t get a wink of sleep last night.
Last night, after I told him that I would go with him, he held me tightly in his arms, trying to convey with his body everything he couldn’t express in words. And I did the same. I held on tight to his powerful shoulders, running my fingers through his hair and along the back ofhis neck with soft touches. We stayed like that for a while until I asked him to stay and sleep over in my new apartment. We spent the night together. Admittedly, there was a small part of me that didn’t want to do that, because, after our argument, I would have liked to have demonstrated a little more backbone. But that would have been completely pointless. In the moment, neither of us was capable of living up to some moral principle. All we knew was an irrepressible need to feel one another, to touch one another, and to belong to one another. Because that’s how the two of us find peace: being together. And together, we also find the strength to face anything.
We’ve been driving for about forty minutes, and I’ve been trying to make conversation the whole time, but all I’ve gotten from him are lazy grunts.
“You hungry?” he asks impassively, his eyes fixed on the road and his right hand on the steering wheel. “There’s a truck stop a few miles ahead.”
We left the house without breakfast this morning. Thomas didn’t feel up to it; he was already very anxious, and I skipped my usual bowl of cereal in solidarity. But now I’m so hungry that I could plow through the snack sections of every convenience store in the state of Oregon.
“I am, a little bit.”
“Just a little, eh?” He takes his eyes off the road for a few seconds to look at me. “So that wasn’t your stomach that’s been growling ever since we left…?” He laughs softly, one corner of his mouth tilting up slightly. I rub his shoulder and find myself laughing along with him, charmed by his smile.
We pull into the truck stop, park, and get out of the car. Thomas takes a few bills out of the pocket of his black jeans and puts them in my hand. “Here, get what you want; I’m gonna take a piss.”
I roll my eyes in exasperation. “To pee, Thomas. People say,I’m going to pee, or better yet,I’m going to the bathroom. Also, I have a job, I think I can pay for my breakfast.” I hand the money back to him and head for the doors with a triumphant grin. “Do you want anything?” I ask him before going inside.
He doesn’t reply as he tucks the money back into his pocket. “Nah,” he says finally, “I’m good. A cigarette will be enough for me right now.”
I cock an eyebrow. “You sure?”
“Yeah, go on. I’ll meet you in there.” He urges me on with a wave of his hand.
When I get inside, I head straight for their small café area. When the waitress takes my order, I get an English muffin and a coffee. I sip it while watching a music video on the TV mounted on the far wall. The moment I bite into my English muffin, my phone goes off.
“Vanessa, this is your mother.” Her strident voice makes my ears ring.
“Yes, I know; you’re in my contacts. What’s up?” I answer, wedging the phone between my shoulder and my ear as I swallow my bite.
“I haven’t heard back from you about my dinner invitation.”
