Aaron’s voice went cold. “What the fuck do you want from me?”
“Admit what you did was evil.”
“It’s called reality. You need to grow the fuck up, bitch.”
“Bitch? You fucking Nazi asshole!” she screamed, jabbing her finger in his chest.
“Listen up,” he shouted, grabbing her wrist, “this shit”—then Xena—Mel yanking her hand away and whacking Aaron’s arm, Aaron shouting in Mel’s face and Matt leaning up going whoa and Xena—Xena barked, leaping snapping at Aaron who turned smooth and kicked the dog hard in the side, sending the animal rolling yelping and Mel surged, hitting Aaron in the neck and he caught her forearms in his fists and she kicked but then Dahlia was between them and Wendy and Rachel too, pulling Mel back, Aaron walking off cold, Mel held by Rachel, still raging, still flailing.
“Motherfucker!” she screamed. “Fucking motherfucker Nazi fuck!”
“Watch yourself,” Aaron hissed.
“Easy now,” Rachel said. “Easy.”
“I’m gonna fucking kill you, motherfucker!”
“Somebody shut that bitch up,” Aaron said, stalking back and forth along the fence line.
Dahlia went to Xena, the kicked dog hiding behind a bush near the back door, keeping an eye on Aaron the whole time. Rachel and Wendy whispered to Mel. Matt stood between them, near the barbecue again, feeling confused, until Wendy pointed at Aaron.
“Hey, uh, Aaron, you wanna go out front for a minute?” Matt asked.
“Fucking asshole!” Mel shouted after them as they disappeared. “Fucking fascist puke!”
“Mel, sit down,” Rachel said, gently pushing Mel into a chair. “Calm down. We need to calm down.”
“I think Xena’s okay,” said Dahlia.
Wendy took a step toward the gate, came back. “I’m so sorry about that. I didn’t know—he seemed a little tense but I didn’t know… That was completely insane.”
“Mel, please, you need to calm down.”
“Get the fuck off me!” Mel shouted, swinging at Rachel.
“Easy,” Rachel said, holding up her hands.
“Whose fucking side are you on?”
Rachel took Mel’s chin in her hand and pulled her face up: “Melanie. You will calm down right now. You need to breathe. Breathe. You are not going to behave like this. You’re a grown woman. Now breathe.”
Mel took a deep breath and let it out with a shudder. Rachel knelt and held her. Wendy went over, then back to Xena, then stood alone staring up into the night sky. After a few minutes, Mel straightened up and wiped her bleary eyes.
“I’m alright,” she said. “I’m okay. I just… I don’t know what the fuck happened. With all the whiskey, I guess, I went a little sideways.”
“You went, like, diagonal,” Rachel said.
“That was crazy, Mel,” said Dahlia. “You just called Wendy’s boyfriend a Nazi.”
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
“Well, he’s not a Nazi either,” Dahlia said. “He’s a soldier who just got back from a war zone. He’s a person.”
“I know, man. I’m sorry.”
“Honey, I love your political passion,” said Rachel, “but goodness gracious. You might as well have just called him a baby killer. We don’t do that anymore. You know how messed up your dad is.”
“I’m know… I just…”
Dahlia stood between the flickering tiki torches in the dark, feeling the adrenaline course through her arms and legs, thinking who decides things? Who makes choices? You go do a thing, you commit to things, then something happens. Sometimes you just do things. Sometimes things just happen. “I’m going inside for a minute,” she said to no one in particular, then slid away into the house, through the kitchen, down the hall and into the bathroom where the lightless gray and black wrapped around her like blankets. She locked the door behind her, felt her way to the toilet, and sat. She didn’t want to see his eyes in the mirror. She didn’t want to feel him. She rubbed her arms hard, trying to scour away the electricity, the gold flecks in his green irises, the way he sat too close, his chipped incisor, the way his knee bumped hers. His body pressing on her as she came between him and Mel, his arms, his muscled chest and shoulders. His smell that seemed to catch in her throat.
Why’d Wendy even bring him? Some jerk. He could do anything.
You have to stop.
But not if it happens to someone else. Who says I always have to be the same when I’m always different? Always different. Pull yourself together. Pull together what? Who? And what would it feel like?
Does Matt know? Is he gonna take you home?
I am home. You gotta get out.
Pull yourself together. You’re the one who got her shit together. You make choices. You’re the one who does what you do, this life, right now. Ride it.
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