I don’t remember ending the call. I vaguely remember crying, screaming, and pleading with myself for an hour afterwards. I didn’t go to school or work. I didn’t even leave my room for anything but visits to the bathroom for the following two days. I had no idea how to handle it, but also knew there was no purpose in even trying to talk with the family about it. After the second day of my isolation, the parents received an automated call from the school, informing them of my absence.
Just as expected, they didn’t even ask what was going on, so I just ignored their scolding and went back to school the next day. After school, I also drove to work, but when I reached the stop where I used to pick up Tess in the afternoons, I had to leave again. There was not a single room in that fucking building that didn’t hold memories of her, and I wasn’t sure I wouldn’t simply break down in front of the others. I called Bill, apologized for not showing, but also told him I needed the rest of the month. He didn’t ask why. He just listened to what I said and, after a moment of silence, responded in a soft, quiet voice I had never heard the rough old man use before.
“Don’t apologize. I didn’t expect you to be back so soon. Take the two weeks off for now, then see how you feel. I’m really sorry, Tim.”
He already knew about Tess. And since he also knew about Tess and me, he understood.
Tess’ funeral fell on the three-day weekend at the end of the month. Bill made it a work trip for anyone who wanted to attend, which turned out to be most of us, so there wasn’t even any need for me to inform the parents.
When I met the others at the airport, I was offered a lot of condolences. Most of the guys knew about Tess and me just like Bill did. I didn’t handle anything about it well. I wanted to talk with them, so I accepted their offers thankfully, but at the same time I didn’t want to seem weak in front of them, so I distanced myself as soon as possible and repeated the process with each handshake and shoulder rub I received. They seemed to understand, though.
The ceremony was beautiful ... I heard that is what people are supposed to say. In reality, the best thing was that I managed not to break down in front of Tess’ family despite being a mess.
One minute, I was ready to hyperventilate when I realized I would never be with her again, and the next, I would be fucking pissed at her for leaving me. Then I was back in an almost panic for thinking of her in that way, before once more almost hyperventilating when I realized I would never be with her again. That cycle kept repeating itself for the entire next week, but as it did, my perspective on things changed considerably.
While I initially was angry at her for leaving me like that, with no warning and even lying about it, I realized with time that all the signs were there! Her erratic behavior, the sudden insistence for me to see other women again, and the constant reminders to keep going. It was not Tess who neglected to tell me, because she did! Even if she did it in a roundabout way. It was me who failed to pick up on the signs. I should have been by her side, but failed her. It was my own fucking fault. And finally, I just went numb.
From that day onwards, without a conscious decision to do so, I viewed the people around me more closely. I would not make the same mistake again.
Going to school, instead of telling the parents what happened so they would let me stay home, might not have been the best decision. I simply wasn’t in the mood to take anyone’s shit, though I didn’t realize it myself at first. Despite feeling numb most of the time, the moment someone made a mean comment or called me a name, I basically exploded and went for their throat. Sure, it had the added effect that, after a few days of this, people would think twice before trying to provoke me in any way. But it also meant that absolutely nobody wanted anything to do with me, even when they had to work with me on group projects or as lab partners. At least the teachers somehow never witnessed any of it, so there wasn’t another suspension coming.
For the whole two weeks leading up to my birthday, Bill seemed to take an extra interest in me. He showed up in my office almost daily, drawing me into the most mundane conversations to distract me. I even got to know Mrs. Bill when she invited me to dinner one evening. The woman was the embodiment of all the grandmother memes I knew, doting and sending me home with a loosened belt and tupperware full of leftovers.
I had absolutely no idea why he was doing that for me, but I’m convinced I wouldn’t have gotten through those weeks without him. The guys at work also did their best to cheer me up. Though they had stopped inviting me to strip clubs, they helped me set up my apartment by making suggestions on what I could do with my own place, and so constantly drawing my thoughts away from Tess. I got a bed and desk delivered, and assembled them with Paul’s help. The apartment came with appliances, so I didn’t have to worry about those.
Just after 3 PM on November 15th, I walked through the front door of the house I grew up in and, for a short moment, took in the silence greeting me. After dropping my backpack and getting rid of my shoes, I made my way into the kitchen. My mind on the report I’d have to write at the firm. School and work was really all I did anymore. On the kitchen table I found a note in my mother’s handwriting; they all went out with Uncle John’s family, since my parents’ favorite child was back from college for the weekend. Just like last year, when they forgot about my birthday, they made plans that didn’t include me. At least this year they didn’t blame me for disturbing their fun time by coming home.
A quick survey of my surroundings revealed two recently used but empty pots on the stove, as well as four plates in the sink. No leftovers in the fridge or oven. I did, however, find the leftovers in the trash can. I was used to it. By the time I finished cleaning up the kitchen to make myself something to eat, my appetite was somehow gone, and I just felt droopy. So, instead of cooking, I went up to my room to grab a soda from my own little fridge and boot up my PC. I found an email newsletter from the delivery service I frequently used regarding my birthday. A coupon code for a free muffin (if I pay for a pizza). I looked around and saw no presents and no cards. I wasn’t surprised. At least, with that coupon code, lunch was taken care of without me having to move. At least, by next morning, I would finally be out of that house.
Chapter 5
As expected, I was able to enjoy my Pizza without any interference. At least until my phone rang, because my grandmother was calling me. I answered the call without taking my eyes from the monitors, or taking all of my attention from the report I was writing.
“Hi Granny!” I greeted her with my best impression of a happy person.
“Hello, my darling. Happy Birthday!” she chirped in an especially cheerful voice.
“Thank you, Granny! So, how are you? Haven’t heard from you in a while. You gonna be back for Thanksgiving?”
“Of course, we will. This time we’re thinking of staying all the way ‘till Christmas. You won’t be bothered by sharing a bathroom with me again, right?” she asked mirthfully, with a lightly expectant undertone.
“Don’t think that’s gonna be a problem.” I proclaimed with confidence, knowing I’d be long gone by Thanksgiving.
“Oh? No regrets after running into me half naked?”
“You didn’t seem as traumatized as Ava was when it happened to her. I think you could manage if that happened again. Of course, if you get nightmares from seeing me in the buff, I’ll at least consider buying myself some pajama bottoms!” I smirked. Was I flirting with my Grandma? I don’t know. Maybe I shouldn’t have had that conversation while concentrating on something else.
“So, pumpkin, did you get something nice for your birthday?” she asked, probably checking whether the family remembered.