A Long Thaw (5 page)

Juliet picks at a small object, wrapped in newspaper, lying in her lap. A long silence swells between them. Juliet presses her lips together and breathes in through her nose. ‘I haven’t seen my father in ten years,’ she says finally. ‘Not since we all moved to California with my mother after the divorce. Not once.’

Abby looks as if a small tap to the back of her head might make her eyeballs fall out onto the floor. ‘Oh, my God.’

‘I know from talking to Nana that he tells things differently.’

Abby blinks. ‘Does Nana know you’ve been here all this time?’

‘No. She thinks I just moved here in September.’

‘But you’ve been here for five years?’

Juliet nods.

‘And you didn’t contact any of us?’

Juliet puts the object back into the box, still wrapped. ‘For a while I thought I would. I just kept putting it off. I’d get busy with school.’ She sighs. ‘And I didn’t know if I could see Nana without seeing
him.
’ Juliet folds the box closed and leans her arms across the top without looking up.

Abby crawls onto the floor and lays her arm tentatively across Juliet’s shoulders. ‘I am so sorry. I can’t believe it. How could he do this? How could he?’ she hisses. She feels her uncle’s betrayal of his daughters sharply. She believes that it’s hers to feel as well. And isn’t it? Hasn’t he lied all these years – elaborate lies, filled with trips to California and legal battles over visitation? Wasn’t he always full of anecdotes at holiday gatherings? Hannah won a spelling bee; Lilly had chickenpox; Juliet was playing Maria in her high school’s rendition of
The Sound of Music.
She had a beautiful voice.

Abby had always felt sorry for Allen, missing his daughters over holidays. The understanding was that Juliet’s mother, Deirdre, was a bitch. She had got herself a slimy lawyer, a liberal amount of child support and full custody. She refused to let the girls leave California. In order to see his daughters, Allen had to fly there, which he did, twice a year. Or so he said.

‘Fucking liar,’ Abby growls.

Juliet’s glad to hear the anger in Abby’s voice. She feels the sense of solidarity that comes from having a common enemy.

Abby and Juliet finish the bottle of wine and Abby locates a second in the kitchen cabinet. She turns the corkscrew, holding the bottle between her thighs. ‘How are Hannah and Lilly?’

Juliet has resumed her task of emptying boxes. ‘They’re great. I talk to them all the time but I haven’t been able to see them much. I managed to visit one week, the summer after my sophomore year, but things were so awful with Deirdre. Actually I haven’t seen them in three years and it kills me. They had it pretty rough before I left.’

‘Rough how?’ Abby fills a wine glass and holds it out for Juliet.

‘Well, Deirdre’s a mess. She’s always been a mess. When we first moved to California, she sort of had a breakdown.’

‘Really?’

‘Yeah. I don’t think she’d ever had to take care of herself before. We stayed with my aunt Camille for a while, basically until she couldn’t take it any more. I can’t really blame her. She’d just got married and suddenly she had her sister and three kids show up on her doorstep. I mean, Deirdre didn’t even look for a job. She just slept all day and let Camille take care of things.’

Abby sits on the couch, cross-legged.

‘And then Camille kicked us out. Tough love, you know. I’m sure she thought Deirdre’d get herself together once there was no one else to take care of her.’

‘And did she?’

‘Uh, no.’ Juliet laughs bitterly. ‘By then she was drinking. I was too young to notice at the beginning, but when I look back I’m pretty sure it started while we were at Camille’s. And then I just sort of took over where Camille left off: making dinner, changing diapers, hoping Deirdre didn’t burn the house down while I was at school.’

‘Jeez.’

Juliet gulps down her wine and holds out her glass for a refill. Abby has already poured herself a second.

‘She did eventually sober up,’ Juliet says. ‘She’s one of those AA addicts now – always quoting a slogan. And she got born again.’

‘Are you serious?’ Abby laughs.

Juliet nods, catches Abby’s laughter. ‘It hasn’t really made her a better person. She’s still so self-involved she’s only slightly more reliable than when she was drinking.’

‘Does she have a job?’

‘She does some stuff for the church and they help her out with food. That and whatever Camille sends, and what I send . . .’ Juliet slumps against the couch.

‘And Allen?’

‘Nope.’

‘No? Are you sure?’

‘Pretty sure. When I applied for financial aid for school, he was, like, not a factor.’

‘I just can’t believe this. It’s disgusting.’

Juliet sighs, sits up, and rips the tape off the second box. Abby sets her glass on the table, noticing the room has begun to sway.

‘So what happened?’ Juliet motions to several boxes stacked by the door.

‘Ryan left this morning. He said he’d be back for those.’

‘Yeah, but . . . I mean, what
happened
?’

Abby sighs. ‘Oh. Right. The question I’ll be asking myself for the rest of my life.’ She forces herself to laugh.

‘How long were you together?’

‘Three years.’ Abby picks up her glass.

‘Wow.’

‘Things used to be so good. I really thought he was, like,
it
for me. From the beginning.’

‘Love at first sight?’ Juliet asks.

‘Well, more like love at first conversation. I just really thought we’d be together forever.’

‘Like soul mates.’

Abby shrugs. ‘I don’t know if I even believe in that any more. Do you?’

Juliet shakes her head without having to think about it. ‘I’ve never seen it happen. Maybe if my parents had stayed together. I think they used to really love each other. I remember the way they were when I was young. Maybe I was just naïve.’

‘I’m not sure I believe my parents are soul mates, like they were made for each other. I think they love each other and they’re committed. Maybe that was what Ryan and I were missing. The commitment part.’

Juliet reaches past Abby for the wine bottle. ‘Mind if I finish it?’

‘Oh, no. Go for it. I’ve had more than you already.’

‘I was talking too much.’

‘Nah.’

‘So Ryan was a commitment-phobe?’

‘I guess. And I finally told him to shit or get off the pot,’ Abby continues with her eyes closed, ‘which is a lovely analogy since it pretty much makes me a toilet.’

Juliet spits wine, laughing.

‘Before I met Ryan, I always pictured myself with an artist or something, not an engineer, you know?’

Juliet nods, as if this is linear thinking.

‘But after a while things got so comfortable and I couldn’t imagine it any other way. And towards the end, it was like we just . . . We knew each other’s stories. All of them. I knew his stories the way I knew my own and it was just so boring to talk to each other. We knew everything there was to know. There was nothing left to say.’ Abby feels herself melting into the soft couch cushions. ‘But, also, I was thinking about it the other day and I realized that whenever something really important happened in my life, he wasn’t my first phone call. He wasn’t even in my top five. I’d call my mom before I’d call him.’

‘That’s pretty low on the phone tree.’

‘Yeah.’

‘Well, it’s good that you were strong enough to end it. Sometimes it’s hard to admit when we outgrow people.’

‘Do you think that’s what it is?’

‘Yeah.’ Juliet pulls herself up onto the couch. ‘Hannah is the same age now as I was when Deirdre took us to California. And she’s already had to deal with so much more than I had by that age. When I think how much changed in a decade . . .’ Her voice trails off as she shakes her head. ‘I’m a completely different person than I was then.’

Abby’s eyes flutter open. ‘You think?’

Juliet nods and both girls close their eyes.

After a few moments, Abby murmurs into the silence, ‘Juliet, can you sing?’

Juliet turns to Abby and makes a face. ‘Not at all.’

Juliet wakes to the smell of coffee. She cracks open an eye to look at the time, but she hasn’t unpacked her alarm clock yet. By the dim light outside the window, she figures it could be seven a.m. or noon.

Abby’s breaking eggs into a bowl in the kitchen. ‘Morning.’

Juliet grunts as politely as she can manage. ‘What time is it?’

‘Nine. How’d you sleep?’

‘Good. I don’t remember going to bed.’ Juliet looks down at herself and sees that she’s still wearing her clothes.

‘We sort of passed out together on the floor. I woke up and helped you into bed. I would have left you on the couch but it really isn’t long enough for anyone past eight years old.’

‘Thanks.’ Juliet sits at the kitchen table.

‘How is the new mattress?’ Abby asks. It isn’t so much ‘new’ as new to them.

Juliet tries to think about this. ‘Fine, I guess. Do you have any aspirin or something?’

Abby gets a bottle out of the cabinet, shakes two pills into her palm and passes them to her. ‘I’ll get you some juice,’ she says. ‘Scrambled eggs okay?’

‘Sure,’ Juliet answers, although she isn’t really hungry.

Abby puts a glass of orange juice on the table in front of her. Juliet throws the pills down her throat and swallows the whole glassful. She holds her head in her hands, elbows on the table, and watches as Abby cooks.

‘So, what, you drink like that every night?’ Juliet asks.

Abby turns and smiles. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I feel just disgusting and you’re, like . . . Look at you.’

Abby laughs. ‘I’ve just never done hangovers.’

Juliet abandons all pretence and lays her head directly on the table, which is cool against her forehead. ‘Must be nice.’

At noon Abby leaves to run errands and Juliet makes sandwiches. She spreads mayonnaise on four slices of bread, folds layers of ham on each and cuts cherry tomatoes in halves, lining them up so that there will be one in every bite. She puts each sandwich on a plate and places them across from each other on the table. She calls Jesse three times, but goes straight to voicemail. She leaves no messages.

Juliet wanders around the apartment. She traces a finger along the dusty titles on the bookshelves. She examines the contents of each kitchen cabinet. She stretches out on the couch, gazing at the ceiling with her legs thrown over the end.

She eats around the edge of her sandwich, outlining it with little half-moon bites. By two o’clock, she has eaten the entire thing and wrapped the other in cellophane, tucking it carefully away in the fridge.

Jesse shows up at three.

‘You said you were coming for lunch.’ Juliet slouches against the open door. ‘I had to eat without you.’

‘That’s okay,’ Jesse says. ‘I ate already.’

‘Oh.’

‘So this is the new place,’ he says, as he walks inside.

Juliet sighs. ‘What do you think?’

He walks through the living room to the kitchen and looks out of the window. ‘Not bad.’

‘Abby went out for a while. You can meet her when she gets back.’

Jesse shrugs off his jacket and throws it over a kitchen chair. ‘Where’s your room?’

They walk into her bedroom and he shuts the door behind him.

Juliet steps back as he presses his body against her, clutching her hair in his fists and kissing her mouth.

‘Jesse.’ She says his name quietly, like she’s asking for something she isn’t sure he’ll give.

He kisses her collarbone. ‘I need you.’

‘Abby will be back soon.’

He presses on her shoulders until she’s sitting on the bed. ‘The door is closed,’ he says, looking down at her.

‘But what if—’

‘It’s been two days,’ he says, as if he’s saying it’s been weeks or months.

She looks up at him, feeling small. ‘I don’t know.’

‘I do.’ He pulls her shirt up and she lifts her arms. He unhooks his belt as she removes her bra. She does this with the same expression of uncertainty in her eyes, the corners of her lips pulled down slightly into a not-quite frown. He wraps an arm around her waist and turns her, pressing her face into the duvet. He pulls her pants down, shaking his own to his ankles. He fucks her without taking his shoes off, grunting into her hair. Juliet pretends to enjoy herself but all she can think about is Abby coming home, hearing them.
You never get a second chance to make a first impression
, she thinks.

When he’s finished, he kisses her cheek and pulls up his pants. Juliet rolls over and he gives back her shirt. She wriggles back into her jeans as he stands over her, buckling his belt.

Juliet hears Abby unlocking the door to the apartment. She jumps up and runs her fingers through her hair, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror on the back of the door. She throws a blanket over the damp place on the bed.

‘What is she? The sex police?’ Jesse asks.

‘Can’t some things just be private?’

‘We didn’t fuck on the kitchen table.’

‘Ssh.’ Juliet opens the door and pulls on Jesse’s arm.

Abby’s in the kitchen, putting away groceries.

‘This is Jesse,’ Juliet says.

Abby shuts the door to the refrigerator and steps forward to shake his hand. ‘Nice to meet you.’

Jesse nods. ‘I have to get going, but I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other again soon.’

Abby nods and goes back to the groceries.

‘You’re leaving already?’ Juliet hears herself whining.

‘Yeah, I got things to do. I’ll call you tomorrow.’ He picks up his jacket and slides it on.

Juliet follows him to the door. They embrace. She wraps her arms more tightly around him, not wanting him to let her go. He does.

Juliet locks the door behind him and returns to the kitchen.

‘So, how did you two meet?’ Abby asks, standing on her toes and sliding a box of cereal onto a shelf.

Juliet sits at the table. ‘At school,’ she says. ‘He was actually one of the grounds’ keepers and I did a lot of my reading under this one tree. I think talking to me so much was one of the reasons he got fired.’

Abby laughs. ‘Aw, so sweet.’ She tucks the empty plastic bags into the cabinet under the sink. ‘How long have you been dating?’