Page 22 of Marley
Maca had the right idea, keeping a diary and always scribbling in those notebooks of his, but when we meet again, I’ll never admit that to him.
After sitting through a strained Christmas dinner, mostly spent watching my sister move food around her plate, rather than attempting to put any of it into her mouth, I made my excuses and left. As I was putting my coat on in the hallway, my mum came out and asked me what Maca had done that day.
“He’s at our place alone, mum. You said he couldn’t come here, remember?”
She nodded and sucked in her cheeks as she swallowed.
“Marley,” she said my name as if it were almost a plea. My sister’s obvious heartbreak was taking a toll on her, like Maca’s was on me, and I suddenly needed a cuddle from my mum.
My mum had always been tiny, but she felt frail when I wrapped my arms around her. I breathed in the Dior perfume that she’d always worn and held her close as she rested her head on my chest.
“I miss you, Marley. I hate what your sister’s breakup has done to our family.” She said quietly, her voice humming through me.
“I know, mum, I know, but Maca’s as much of a mess as G is. I just wish there was a way we could get them to talk to each other.”
She stepped back so that she could look up at me. For a few seconds, she looked like she was going to say something, but she didn’t. If only she had let me know that Whorely had been to see her, the truth would’ve come out so much sooner. Maca and G would’ve sorted their shit out, got married, had babies, and gotten the happily ever after they both deserved.
“I don’t think your sister is ready to see him yet. She leaves the room if his name even gets mentioned on the telly. It breaks my heart to watch her, Marls. I’m her mum and I don’t know how to fix this, to fix her. I just want to wrap her in cotton and protect her from the world. I’m so bloody angry with that boy.” She was crying as she spoke, and I was struggling not to.
“Mum, please don’t be angry with Maca. It was my fault more than it was his.” I pleaded with her.
“Yeah, well, I’m angry with you as well. Drugs Marley? All those drugs, and what about that AIDS that they’re all dying of. Sex and drugs ... I don’t like it, not one little bit. I know you’re a big rock star now, but you’re still my baby boy. I wish you were all little again, all here with me, tucked up in bed at night by seven so I knew exactly where you were and what you were up to.” She swayed from side to side as she spoke, reminding me of when she rocked me as a kid and I loved it.
“I’m sorry, mum. I’ve been good lately, I promise, and I’m always careful. No condom, no shag. The label has given us the talk about AIDS, unwanted pregnancies, girls trying to trap us, all that stuff, and we follow the rules.” My cheeks burned as I spoke that way to my mum. It was Christmas day, and that wasn’t really a conversation I wanted to be having with her ... Ever.
“Is Sean really at your place all on his own?” She was obviously happy to change the subject too.
“Yes, mum, he really is.”
“Well, just you wait a minute while I plate up a dinner for the boy. I hate to think of him not getting a proper Christmas lunch today.”
Less than an hour later, I pulled onto the drive of the place I currently called home. It wasn’t not home, but now, neither was my parents’ place. As long as there was animosity between me and my sister, I wouldn’t feel comfortable there. I felt a pang of loneliness uncurl from my belly and snake its way into my chest. I didn’t belong anywhere then.
I turned off the engine of my new car and looked across at Maca’s black version of my red Escort XR3i. We had the colours custom made to match the bands logo. His was black with a red trim and interior. Mine was red with a black trim and interior. Maca had an older version, one that my dad had recently sold for him, but our babies were brand spanking new.
I banged my head on the steering wheel of my brand new car and decided to stop feeling sorry for myself. I was better off than a lot of people, and if I felt lonely then, how the fuck would Maca be feeling?
When I let myself in the front door of our place, it seemed to be in darkness, but I could hear the faint sound of a guitar strumming. I put Maca’s dinner and dessert in the kitchen and made my way up to our bedrooms. His door was open and he was sitting on the bed with his legs out in front of him, back pressed against the headboard, strumming on his acoustic.
There were papers spread all around him, lyrics and music sheets, and a pencil tucked behind his ear. He had shaved off the beard that he’d had most of the summer, but his hair was still long. My heart sort of hurt as I heard my sister’s voice in my head, always telling Maca how much she loved his hair longer.
He sensed me watching him and looked up at me.
“All right?” I asked him.
“I’m good.” He leaned across and reached for a bottle of Jack sitting on the chest of drawers next to his bed. He took a swig straight from the bottle then offered it to me. I stepped forward and took it from him and brought it to my lips.
I watched as he pulled the pencil from behind his ear and crossed something out on a piece of paper, then wrote something else. He then picked up a music sheet and made changes to that.
“There’s a dinner downstairs for you if you’re hungry. My mum sent it. I have a present for you too, probably the usual.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Shit, I didn’t think I was your parents’ favourite person. I wasn’t expecting a present ... I didn’t get them anything.”
I shrugged my shoulders. “They think of you as family. Families fuck up, and they know that.”
He nodded his head. “Shame your sister didn’t see things that way.” I remained silent, not knowing how to reply.
“What’s that you’re working on?” I asked and gestured with my chin towards the papers spread all over the bed.
