Stay With Me

I heard the familiar sound of the television blaring the minute I opened the apartment door. I shut the door behind me with a gentle push, shrugging off my coat in the process. I dumped my keys on the small desk by the coat rack and trudged into the sitting room, where Frank was slouched on the couch in all his glory. His arms were slung over the back of the couch, the remote in one hand and his gaze focused on the television. He didn’t hear me come in or notice my presence yet. I drank in the sight of him, in a tight white t-shirt and a snug pair of jeans that emphasised just how toned he was.

“Hey, baby,” I greeted, injecting enthusiasm into my voice. Not that I wasn’t happy to see him. I was. I just always felt a huge amount of guilt when I came home after a tumble in the sheets with Gerard. I was paranoid that he would smell Gerard’s scent on me, or just sense that I was sexually satisfied and a little less tense than normal.

“Hey, you. How was your day?” he asked, tearing his eyes away from the screen and giving me his full attention. His hazel eyes were the most beautiful eyes I’d ever seen. Big, round, and warm, I found myself melting into them whenever they were on me. It was hard not to get lost in them, and the warmth they invited. His smile was another thing that made my toes curl. Sometimes it was utterly boyish, charming and endearing, and others it was nothing but pure unadulterated sex, making my insides melt with need.

“You don’t want to know,” I sighed, remembering my session with Nina. It was better to think about that, than to think about Gerard.

“You know I do.”

“Fine,” I sighed again, reminding myself that I was trying to be honest with Frank when it came to my sessions with Nina, “I’m gonna take a shower first, though.”

“You know, I think I’m in need of one too. Maybe I should join you?”

He had that filthy smile on his face, and I knew that he was thinking about more than getting clean. He wanted to get downright dirty, if anything. Guilt stabbed at me again when I realised that I was far from in the mood. I wanted him, but it was only an hour ago that I’d been underneath Gerard, screaming his name from the top of my lungs. I couldn’t deny him, though; not after I had made a big deal about our lack of intimacy. I forced a smile on my face.

“Maybe you should,” I agreed.

I led us to the bathroom, where we stripped off our clothes and stood under the gushing warm water. While I may not have been shuddering with anticipation before Frank put his hands on me, it certainly didn’t take very long for my blood to boil with need again. It was probably a good thing that our shower was electric; otherwise the shower would have been running cold by the time we dragged our sated, but clean, bodies out.

“Nina wants me to meet up with my mother,” I informed Frank once we were clothed again, lying on the bed, under the covers, even though it was barely nine o’clock.

Frank was surprised, a flicker of confusion making his brow furrow and his lips purse slightly. He knew how I felt about my mother. I had never told him about the specifics. Or anything about it, really, for that matter.It was one of those things that was abundantly clear whenever she was mentioned. He had, of course, tried to pry and ask questions, all of which I had dodged with enough success to stop him asking again.

“Why?”

“She thinks it might help with my anger or something. She wants me to tell her about Nick.”

Frank’s eyes searched my face, what he was looking for, I wasn’t sure, but he didn’t seem to find it.

“How do you feel about that?”

The giggle escaped before I could prevent it. Frank’s offended glare didn’t help, though, and it was a solid five seconds before I could explain.

“Sorry, just… You should be a therapist.”

He poked me in the ribs, drawing out a sharp cry of surprise from my lips.

“Yes, and you’re avoiding answering the question.”

I sighed, biting my lip and giving the question serious thought.

“It’s going to be the end of any relationship with her,” I thought out loud, voicing the thought that scared me more than I was willing to admit. “She’ll never believe me, Frank. Even if a part of her sees the truth, she’ll never let herself acknowledge it. You know as well as I do that Nick is this angel sent from Heaven to be the perfect child in her eyes. I may be her blood, but…Nick is her son by choice. I’m just a reminder of the man who would rather leave her in the most permanent way possible than face the fact that he couldn’t cope with her demands. I lied and pulled tantrums when she was going through a hard time, and I don’t think she ever forgave me for not being a more understanding eleven year old. And I can’t forgive her for not forgiving me. I don’t want to.”

Frank took in my words, and I could see him digesting them, breaking them down, and giving them some consideration before making a response.

“Are you really so certain that she won’t believe you? Your relationship is rocky at best, but you are her daughter, Grace. And if you really wanted to kill your relationship with your mother, you would have told her years ago, if you truly believe that that’s going to be the end result of the revelation. On some level, you want to have some kind of relationship with her, but because of what Nick did, you haven’t been able to bridge the gap with her. Maybe…maybe this is the thing that will start mending your relationship.”

I took in a shaky breath, his words affecting me in a way I hadn’t anticipated. He was saying words that the broken child inside of me wanted to believe. The traumatised little girl that I had kept buried deep down wanted to know that her mother still loved her, that her mother still cared, that she would protect her from the evils of the world, and comfort her when those efforts failed. I wanted her to believe me, and the possibility that she wouldn’t was too scary a consequence, if my words weren’t enough to convince her.

“I don’t know if I can handle her not believing me, Frank.”

Silent tears were wetting my cheeks, staining the cream pillowcase with every drop that fell. Frank’s arms were around me in seconds, pulling my head to his chest. His large hand was stroking my hair, soothing me.

“Grace, it’s going to be okay. No matter what she says, just remember that I believe you. That’s all that matters, okay? But I think Nina is right; you have to tell her. I know it’s scary, and it’s going to be tough, but you’ve been through worse, and your still here.”

“That’s only because I have you.”

The words were muffled, almost lost in the fabric of his top, but he heard them anyway. I could feel the little smile on his face at my words.

“Would you feel better if I went with you? We can go for a dinner somewhere, just the three of us. If things go badly, we can leave, and that will be the end of it.”

I nodded against his chest, afraid that if I spoke again, I'd lose the battle against the full-on sobs that wanted to break free.

“Do you wanna go to sleep?” he asked, sensing that the conversation had taken a lot out of me. He slipped out of bed when I nodded again, his feet padding across the floor to switch off the bedroom light. He crawled back into bed, cuddling me in the dark in silent comfort that meant more than any words he could utter.

**

The time went by quickly. Way too quickly for my liking. It was Friday, a quarter past seven in the evening, and Frank still wasn’t here. I was freaking out, my eyes locked on the entrance, afraid that I might miss him sweeping in with an apologetic smile on his face and whispered words of encouragement before my mother arrived. My mother was a prompt woman, and I knew that she would be here in less than ten minutes. Frank was cutting it really fine to make it on time, causing my skin to dampen with panic and paranoia that something terrible had happened, and he wouldn’t make it. I knew I was overreacting. Frank would call if something came up.

The same moment the words crossed my mind, my phone rang, jolting my body in shock. Frank’s name popped up on the screen, swiftly followed by a sickening feeling in my stomach. It was one of those moments of premonition, when you just know something bad is about to happen. I almost didn’t press accept, afraid that my biggest fear was about to come to life.

“Frank, where are you?” I whispered, my voice shaking, but I didn’t care.

“Grace…there was an accident on the freeway. The traffic’s jammed up, and I have no idea how long it’ll be before it’s cleared.”

“But I need you here.”

I sounded no older than a toddler then, biting my lip to restrain the tears that were quickly clouding up my vision. This couldn’t be happening. Not when I needed him most. I couldn’t face my mother alone without him by my side. It was like asking a child who was afraid of the dark to go down into a basement with no light. My heart was palpitating, my breaths were coming out too fast, but it felt like I wasn’t breathing enough.

“Grace, I’m so, so sorry! I’ll be there as soon as I can, okay?”

“Okay,” I whispered with a cracked voice, the pain and disappointment I felt

“I love you.”

I knew he felt bad. I could hear it in his voice. I acknowledged that it was out of his control, and that he would be with me right then, if he could. That didn’t make me feel any better, though. It didn’t stop the anxiety, the anger, the self-pity, and hurt that made my hands shake while I tried to contain myself in such a public place.

“Love you too,” I respond automatically, out of habit, in spite of how furious I was at him then for leaving me to do this on my own.

I had gotten the courage to do this because he had told me he would be here. Frank would be here to back me up, defend me if needs be, and maybe even have the courage to tell the truth, if words, and my brain, failed me. I was scared shitless, but knowing he would be beside me had made it seem less seventh-level-of-hell terrifying. Now, I was here, with not enough time to cancel, or wits about me to deal with this.

I couldn’t help but wonder if it would have been better if I had asked Gerard. Would Gerard get stuck in traffic too, right when I needed him the most? Or would he be here with me, sitting next to me, holding my hand and whispering sweet words to calm me down and give me the strength to do something I should have done years ago.

Then I saw her come in through the doors. She looked as fabulous as always – designer clothes, immaculate hair and makeup, and a graceful air that made heads turn with the confidence that exuded from her slim frame. The fake smile that took up half her face was immediate when she saw me, and suddenly she was Mother Theresa incarnate. She looked happy to see me, and when she approached the table, she made sure she hugged me in full view of the restaurant, just to emphasis what an amazing mother she was. I could see it for what it was, though – a lie. A bar faced lie, meant to fool the world into thinking she was someone nice, warm and loving. Maybe she was, but I couldn’t remember the last time I had been on the receiving end of that kind of affection from her.

“Grace, how are you?” she exclaimed, almost sounding sincere.

“I’m good.How are you?” I didn’t think when I responded. It was ingrained in me to give that response. Anything else was met with a glare.

“Oh, I’m wonderful! George and I just got back from Crete. It’s fabulous!You and Frank must go sometime.”

“Sure,” I give a half-hearted smile, my stomach heavier than lead; and when the waiter came with our menus, I seriously questioned if I would be able to eat. I wanted to throw up right on the table, just heave my insides – show my shame and fear for the world, and my mother, to see.

I ordered a salad when the waiter came back with our water. My mother ordered the same, but for entirely different reasons than me. She was all about keeping trim and looking good. Heaven forbid she should gain a pound or an extra inch on her hips.

“So, where’s Frank? I thought he was joining us?” she questioned, taking a sip of ice cold water.

“He’s stuck in traffic. There was a crash or something.”

“Oh, yes! I heard something on the news about that. There was a big pile up on the freeway. Poor dear! He’ll be stuck there for a while.”

I swallowed.

“You look tired, Grace. Are you getting enough sleep? You should really start investing in some anti-wrinkle cream, dear. You’re not getting any younger.”

“I’m only twenty six, mom,” I remind her.

And so the criticisms began. Why hadn’t I gotten a better job yet? When was I buying my own apartment? When was Frank going to propose? Was I holding off on marriage? I endured them all, biting back the urge to snap. She stopped when the waiter came back with our salads, giving us both a smile that begged for a good tip at the end of our meal. My mother eventually lost interest in my life, and I was soon listening to her talk about herself. It was amazing what the woman would fit into her life. She was involved in many charities, the local church, and any group that would take her. I never understood her need for social acceptance and notoriety. She wanted to be everything to everyone -everyone except her only daughter.

“So, to what do I owe the pleasure of my daughter’s company?”

Of course she would get bored eventually, rightly believing there was more to my dinner invitation than just a family get-together. I wasn’t ready for this. I couldn’t do this. Fuck, this wasn’t the right time or place. I should have waited for another time, when Frank was with me to hold my hand.

“I just thought it would be nice to see you. Is there something wrong with that?” I lied through my teeth.

“Grace, I’m your mother. I know when something’s wrong. Did you and Frank break up? Is that why he isn’t here tonight?”

“What? No, no, Frank and I are fine.” I said too loudly, too quickly. My mother gave me a look that stated that she clearly didn’t believe me. Hell, I wouldn’t have believed it, if I had heard it. My nerves were getting to me, my head was hurting and my heart was going crazy in my chest.

“Grace, how many times have I told you not to lie? You’re a bit old to be at that now. Do you need a place to stay? You’re always welcome to come back home, you know.”

“Frank and I are fine,” I stated again, more firmly.

“Then what is it? You can tell me, Grace. I don’t see why you always avoid telling me things. You like your secrets far too much,” she scolded me.

“Some people don’t like knowing the truth.”

My mother’s face fell for a split second, picking up on the thinly veiled jibe at her.

“Now, Grace, there’s no need for that. What’s all this about?”

I took my mother in, as she sat across the table from me. Her pale face was watching me, judging me, waiting for me to say something that would make her even more disappointed in me than she already was. Her thin lips were set in a straight line, her face trying hard to stay neutral until the familiar disappointed expression took its place.

“I’ve been seeing a therapist for a little while now,” I decided to start easy, lead up to the revelation that was the reason for me being there that night.

“Oh, I see… Why do you need to see a therapist?” she asked coolly, and I could tell I’d ruffled her feathers a little. She was worried about what I’d said about her, and what slanderous insults I’d revealed to another human being about her. It bothered me to see it, to know what she was thinking underneath the false concern. She didn't care about why I was going. She only caredif I was bitching about her to someone else.

“I tried to kill myself…I slit my wrists, to be precise. Frank found me in time, but he made me go see someone.”

I didn’t know what I was expecting from her. I had counted on one of two reactions – dramatic tears, or cool indifference. The shocked look on her face, the glassy eyes and pale skin wasn’t what I had imagined seeing.

“You…Grace, why?”

It was strangled, and even more startlingly, it sounded sincere. She looked crushed, devastated and completely and utterly shaken, all at once. It threw me off course, made me doubt if I was indeed doing the right thing. Should I have told her that? Was her knowing that I had tried to end my life going to make things better, or change them? Was I only adding more hurt and pain to an already strained relationship?

Within that doubt, though, there was something else; something that told me to keep on going now that I had started. To let it out, to say my piece, and just deal with the consequences, whatever they may be. I had started the dialogue, I had given her a glimpse into the real me for the first time since childhood, and suddenly I realised I didn’t want to stop, as painful as it was. I needed this. It was a form of exorcism, a cathartic cleansing of my soul.

“There are things you don’t know, mom,” I said with a shaking voice, my hand shaking so badly that I put my glass down and stared at the table, gathering the guts to continue.

“What things, Grace?”

I took a deep breath. There was no way to phrase what Nick had done to me that would make it less…horrendous. Nothing would sugar-coat, make it easier to swallow, or simpler to digest.

“Nick abused me.” I said simply, with a numbness that took me by surprise.

“Excuse me?”

And there it was. The anger and denial, as I had expected. Gone was the motherly sympathy I had seen moments ago.

“Nick raped me for years before he went to college.” I clarified, finally meeting her eyes and straightening my shoulders.

“How dare you make up such lies about Nick?! Nick is a good man.He treated you better than most stepbrothers would treat their stepsister, and you have the nerve-“

“Oh, yeah, he treated me real good when he was tying me to my bed and raping me whenever you and George were asleep.”

I didn’t see it coming when her hand met my cheek. My mother was normally more in control of herself, especially when in public. Her face was now red with fury, nothing but anger and resentment being directed at me.

“You ungrateful little brat! All my life I tried my best to raise you into a decent human being, and instead, what do I get? A selfish liar who spreads vicious accusations against her own family.”

“And I got a mother who cared more about money than her own daughter. I got a mother who didn’t see what her beloved stepson was doing to her own child, she was so self-involved with keeping up appearances.”

She stood up, her chair drawing attention from the other diners in the room.

“I was a good mother to you, Grace. You were just too selfish to see it. Don’t bother calling me until you’re ready to apologise.”

She didn’t say a goodbye before she stormed off; throwing me a dirty look which showed that she felt nothing but pure hate towards me. I sat in stunned numbness for what felt like eternity, my brain trying to calibrate what exactly had happened. Then it hit me like a freight train, and all I knew was that I needed to get out of there, and fast. I didn’t remember throwing money down on the table, or grabbing my coat and bag and all but running out of the restaurant with curious stares following me out. I hailed a taxi, and there was only one place that I could go right then.

Gerard looked happily surprised when he opened his door, a smile of delight on his face. Then he saw my expression and it immediately turned to concern.

“Grace, what happened to your face? Did Frank-“

“My mom.” I cut him off, and if I wasn’t in such a state of shock, I would have berated him for thinking Frank was capable of such a thing.

“Shit! Come in!” He ushered me in with urgency.

“She didn’t believe me. I knew she wouldn’t, I knew it, but- fuck!” I whimpered when I sat on his couch.

He didn’t say anything. I think he knew nothing was going to make the situation better, or make me feel better. He wrapped his arms around me, letting me sob onto his chest, and giving me the kind of comfort that Frank should have been giving me right then.

Notes

Hey guys,
As always, thanks for reading. Drop a line or two if you can. Let me know what you're thinking!

Lyra