Excerpt #1

Sometime in the present.
 
He’s been an integral part of my journey; he understands me in ways that most people don’t. I never thought that day in January a few years ago that we would end up like this, him knowing me as intimately as he does and me only knowing him as much as he will allow me to. The surprising thing is, it’s okay with me. There was a time in my life that I would have been outraged to be in this type of relationship, something so intimate yet so casual. A friendship with such clearly defined boundaries, both emotional and physical. There was a time in my life that so many things were different. For as much as I have tried to change that, through running from it and dealing with it, today everything stared me right in the eyes.
 
Texting with Jax:
 
“So, he said he will pay for the surgery. I listened to him tell me how upset he is about cutting him out of my life, how the surgeons in Toronto told him and my mother I would ‘have a myriad of medical problems when I became middle-aged,’ how I never told him about being raped in high school, how I never told him what my ex was doing to me, yet here I am asking for money and he knew I would be.”
 
“At least you got what you want.”
 
“Yeah.”
 
Did I though?
 
------
 
I told Jax as I was getting out of the car to let me know if he would be available after he was done working. “I’ve got a run at 5:30. I should be done after that.” “I’m sure I’ll feel much better talking to my father after I’ve had your dick in my mouth. Better yet, maybe I should have you in my mouth when I call him. That would help me immensely” “That would help both of us,” he said laughingly. I was mostly joking but I hadn’t seen Jax like that since April. He texted a few days ago and asked me if therapy was available. I was surprised. It seemed like he didn’t want to get together any more for some reason and honestly, I was okay with that. My mind had been on Xavier and Derrick for the last few months. I was honest with Jax when he texted. “I don’t want to be disrespectful when I tell you this, so please don’t take it the wrong way. I love giving you therapy. We both know how much I get off on it. You’re sexy as hell and I enjoy making you feel good, but I require more now. I’ve had a lot of changes in my life and it’s important to me that I play with people who want to make me feel just as good as I want to make them feel. That includes touching me and kissing. I get off on kissing too. We’ve never done that and I don’t know if it’s something you do. When I started playing with you my confidence was really low. I didn’t know how to say what I want. I do now. I understand if you’d rather not get together because I’ve changed things. No hard feelings and it won’t change things between us, for me at least. It’s just that this is my preference now. If you still want to get together, let me know.” “No hard feelings at all. I’m glad you have confidence now and you’re not where you were. I’m not big on kissing, never have unless I’m drinking. So maybe on the weekends when I drink we can hook up.” Today, the kissing didn’t matter. It didn’t matter that I now require more, that I want my partners to be attentive. Not that Jax wasn’t, it’s just that it was usually me concentrating on him, even during sex. My journey these past four years didn’t matter, none of that did. Today I just really wanted this. But I decided to just call my father instead.
 
“I now have four eye specialists. I don’t need new glasses like l thought I did, but I do have a bunch of things going on with my eyes, some of it because of the Sjogren’s. I have to have surgery on both eyes and it’s not covered by insurance. It’s $2800.00 and I can’t afford it, I need help. The doctor said I will probably need this surgery annually. I don’t want to be a burden, I’m sorry.”
 
“What’s a burden to me, Mary is doing this knowing that I can’t talk to you because you cut me and everyone else out of your life. What’s a burden to me is that I knew this was going to happen, that you would need something and things would be on your terms. I can’t text you every couple of days and ask you how you’re doing. You don’t want to hear from any of us, including your sister in California, which I don’t understand at all. But I will help you. None of that has changed. I love you; I will help you with what you need.”
 
“Thank you.”
 
“Can I ask you something?”
 
“Sure.”
 
“Why? Why now? Why couldn’t you just have waited until she was gone, done this afterwards?”
 
I waited a few seconds before I spoke. I owed him the truth even if it meant he wouldn’t help me. I didn’t think that would happen but I realized it might upset him enough that he may decide to be done himself. “You will never be able to comprehend what I’ve lived through, dad. I can’t possibly explain it to you. I’m looking at my twenty-sixth surgery now and in less than two weeks I will have my twenty-seventh. That won’t be the end of the surgery road for me. I have at least two to four maybe more after that. It’s been very overwhelming. My family hasn’t been around for the last few these last few years, the most important years of my life. Not one person from my family visited me the week I was hospitalized this past February. Not one. And when I was barely walking for the seven weeks after that, my sisters visited less than five times each and those times were to take me to follow up appointments or to bring me home from the emergency room. That’s it. Nobody offered to take me to the hospital when I had both feet operated on in June. I took a cab back and forth. Both feet, dad. I could hardly walk and I took a cab both ways to have surgery when I have family. I know that people have had to deal with how many surgeries I’ve had and it’s a lot, but nobody has taken into consideration how much I have had to deal with. But the thing is, I didn’t complain. But I get to listen to how my sisters visit their sick friends when they are in the hospital, how they made their meals to make things easier for them. I didn’t get any of that this year. Again, I didn’t complain. That was my sisters, my family. You told me you want to provide for me when you’re gone but you have made it so I have to ask my sisters for money. I will never ask them for money. You know my history with mom. I grieved the mother I never had years ago. The things I’ve endured because of her have haunted me long enough. I won’t live another day carrying all of that.” I took a deep breath because this would be the hardest part to say. “You treat me less than. You talk to me like I’m an idiot. You’ve told me that I’m not normal. You prevented me from having independence.” Another breath. “And you didn’t protect me.”
 
“Protect you from what?”
 
“Mom.”
 
He was silent for a few moments. “If I could take everything away from you, I would. If I could make your health better, I would. When you were laying in that hospital bed in Toronto after you almost died, with drainage tubes for your stomach coming out of your nose, hooked up to everything imaginable, the surgeons told us that when you became middle-aged you would have a myriad of health problems. I don’t know what your eyes have to do with your stomach, but you always had styes when you were younger and crazy eye infections. You never told me about what Dennis did to you. You didn’t tell me what Robert was doing. How could I protect you if I didn’t know?”
 
I didn’t want to do this. “Why would I tell you, dad? You were always drunk. I was just a kid. What did you expect me to do?” By now I was crying and my voice was getting louder.
 
“You’re right, I was. Did you tell your mother?”
 
“Yes.”
 
“While it was happening?”
 
“No.”
 
“Why not? You want someone to protect you but you won’t tell people what’s happening to you. That’s how it is with you, Mary.”
 
My heart was racing. Every emotion I felt as a child came rushing at me, just like it did a few months ago after that conversation I had with Xavier when I lay on my couch afterwards and let go of all the anger I carried with me for nearly half my life. Every emotion I refused to allow myself to feel, that I hadn’t felt in decades and I didn’t know how to handle because I realized at that moment it was the anger that kept me together all those years. Letting go and feeling those emotions left me paralyzed and terrified to move, save getting up just to go to the bathroom, for four days. I lay curled in the fetal position, shaking and expelling gut-wrenching sobs for days on end, not eating, not showering, not doing anything but feeling. All of that came back to me as I heard him say that.
 
“When I told her what Dennis did she said, ‘don’t be surprised if you become promiscuous because that’s what I did.’ That’s the type of thing she usually said to me when I had something horrible like that to say to her. I just told her that my boyfriend raped me and that's how she chose to handle it.  And he said he would hurt me in ways you can't even imagine and I won't repeat. So, no. I didn’t tell her while it was happening. She wasn't any better when I told her years later that a gun was involved."
 
I could barely breathe. He will never understand the reason for my silence. He will never understand my reasons for anything.
 
“I’m not doing this with you.”
 
“You asked.” I was sobbing uncontrollably. “I’m not asking my sisters for money. I won’t.”
 
“And what if I leave it that way? You said you may need this surgery every year. What are you going to do when I’m gone? I’m eighty years old.”
 
“I’m begging you not to do that to me. You owe me. You and mom owe me, you both owe me some peace. If you leave things the way they are, the money will just sit where it is. It will go unused. I won’t have the surgery either.”
 
“I’m not changing anything. It’s up to you how you handle it.”
 
“It’s your choice, dad. You can change it. I’m begging you to change it. Please.”
 
“I’ll give you the money for your surgery. Let me know who to call.”
 
He hung up after that as I sat there starting at the floor. This was not how I wanted things but at least I saw things clearly now. People make choices every day. I chose to walk away and I chose to make a U-turn and ask for money. Not his company, not his understanding, not any of the things I’ve needed and wanted for a lifetime. I chose money. My father chose to give me money because he loves me and he wants to help me. He also chose to only see what he wanted to see. And it wasn’t me.
 
A few hours later I texted Jax:
 
“I’m too spent to get together tonight.”
 
“Me too. I’m getting into bed.”
 
Just like that. My day started and ended talking about sex with a lifetime of trauma squeezed in the middle. That's how it's been these last few months as I exorcise the demons I've had to live with. One day they'll be gone. One day they'll all be gone and I'll be left with the peace that I've craved. That and a good man, maybe. At least there will be good sex. Like I said, I've had changes in my life. I've paid my dues. Now I want cotton candy, sexy lingerie, dancing, vacations, lots and lots of good sex, crazy sex, maybe I'll get a dog, I want it all. Good things will happen.