things between them hadn’t been that heated
since the judge handed down his verdict.
Maybe it was one of the local church volunteers who read to
patients. Marcy couldn’t hear them, though. Not even a little. Brain scans had
demonstrated that quite convincingly.
“The kids are doing great,” Jesse said, like he always did.
He still talked to her like she could understand him even though Ronnie had
used that habit against him during their last court battle.
Remembering the way he’d seen the kids with fresh eyes a few
days earlier, he elaborated, “Brigid’s going through an awkward stage, but I
know she’s gonna come out of it prettier than ever.” He left off his worry
about Brigid’s solemnness and his inability to understand her. “And Will’s
still like a bolt of lightning. Happiest kid in the world. You’d love his
smile. I wish you’d gotten to see more of his smile before…before this.”
Marcy’s skin was white, almost translucent from lack of sun
exposure, and her hair was a brittle, dull blond, nothing like the shiny halo
he’d threaded through his fingers on their honeymoon, kissing the honey color
as it twined around his knuckles. She’d been pregnant with Brigid then, and
ravenous. She’d eaten so much on their first night in the honeymoon suite that
he’d joked that she was going to spend his entire fortune on room service if
she wasn’t careful.
He swallowed thickly. He remembered so much when he was near
her, and he hated that it wasn’t out of shared joy, but because of how
different she was now. How broken and empty. No, he remembered it because of
how different they both were. He lived in a world so
very far away from the life they’d planned together.
“So…I have a date.”
Marcy remained curled on her side, one hand gnarled up next
to her face, and another clenching rhythmically by her thigh—reflexes that used
to lead him to hope, but there was no getting past the last brain scan he’d
consented to look at. Her cerebral cortex had been nearly entirely replaced by
cerebrospinal fluid now. Not that you could convince Ronnie or her pastor of
that. Devil’s tricks, they said. Lies.
“Remember when you met me?” Jesse leaned forward, tucking
the blanket around her body and running a hand over her forehead. There was no
response to his touch. She didn’t moan or lean into his fingers, and her eyes
remained vacant. “We both thought I was as gay as they come, and then…well, it
turned out that maybe I was bisexual?” He wasn’t sure why he was thinking about
all of this now, but the memories unspooled in his mind.
It’d been in Italy. He’d been fucking Edoardo for about
three weeks, and Marcy had recently given the boot to Brent. She was making
noises about going back home, and Jesse had been desperate for her to stay.
“It wouldn’t be the same without you, Mar-mar,” he’d said,
falling on his knees dramatically. “Please stay. Please.”
They’d been everywhere—and had done nearly
everything—together since Tim brought Jesse home to share a
meal that first time. They’d only been separated when Marcy first
started dating Brent. She’d refused to leave Gatlinburg without the dork. It’d
only taken Jesse a week of traveling alone to send Brent a pre-paid card and
some airline tickets to surprise Marcy with the gift of joining Jesse in
Greece. And from there they’d gone on and on together, the three of them, until
Marcy got sick of Brent’s stupid jokes and lackluster performance in bed.
“Stay,” Jesse had begged her.
“And what? Watch you screw every guy you deem worth sleeping
with? Going to bed on my own just to wake up hung-over and miserable? I’m tired
of living it up. I miss my parents, Jesse. I miss my home.”
“I miss home too, Marcy,” he’d said. “But I’m not ready.”
“Because you’re not done showing up your dad. Even now that
you sold out of the company.”
“I’m not—”
“You can say you’ve got oats to
since the judge handed down his verdict.
Maybe it was one of the local church volunteers who read to
patients. Marcy couldn’t hear them, though. Not even a little. Brain scans had
demonstrated that quite convincingly.
“The kids are doing great,” Jesse said, like he always did.
He still talked to her like she could understand him even though Ronnie had
used that habit against him during their last court battle.
Remembering the way he’d seen the kids with fresh eyes a few
days earlier, he elaborated, “Brigid’s going through an awkward stage, but I
know she’s gonna come out of it prettier than ever.” He left off his worry
about Brigid’s solemnness and his inability to understand her. “And Will’s
still like a bolt of lightning. Happiest kid in the world. You’d love his
smile. I wish you’d gotten to see more of his smile before…before this.”
Marcy’s skin was white, almost translucent from lack of sun
exposure, and her hair was a brittle, dull blond, nothing like the shiny halo
he’d threaded through his fingers on their honeymoon, kissing the honey color
as it twined around his knuckles. She’d been pregnant with Brigid then, and
ravenous. She’d eaten so much on their first night in the honeymoon suite that
he’d joked that she was going to spend his entire fortune on room service if
she wasn’t careful.
He swallowed thickly. He remembered so much when he was near
her, and he hated that it wasn’t out of shared joy, but because of how
different she was now. How broken and empty. No, he remembered it because of
how different they both were. He lived in a world so
very far away from the life they’d planned together.
“So…I have a date.”
Marcy remained curled on her side, one hand gnarled up next
to her face, and another clenching rhythmically by her thigh—reflexes that used
to lead him to hope, but there was no getting past the last brain scan he’d
consented to look at. Her cerebral cortex had been nearly entirely replaced by
cerebrospinal fluid now. Not that you could convince Ronnie or her pastor of
that. Devil’s tricks, they said. Lies.
“Remember when you met me?” Jesse leaned forward, tucking
the blanket around her body and running a hand over her forehead. There was no
response to his touch. She didn’t moan or lean into his fingers, and her eyes
remained vacant. “We both thought I was as gay as they come, and then…well, it
turned out that maybe I was bisexual?” He wasn’t sure why he was thinking about
all of this now, but the memories unspooled in his mind.
It’d been in Italy. He’d been fucking Edoardo for about
three weeks, and Marcy had recently given the boot to Brent. She was making
noises about going back home, and Jesse had been desperate for her to stay.
“It wouldn’t be the same without you, Mar-mar,” he’d said,
falling on his knees dramatically. “Please stay. Please.”
They’d been everywhere—and had done nearly
everything—together since Tim brought Jesse home to share a
meal that first time. They’d only been separated when Marcy first
started dating Brent. She’d refused to leave Gatlinburg without the dork. It’d
only taken Jesse a week of traveling alone to send Brent a pre-paid card and
some airline tickets to surprise Marcy with the gift of joining Jesse in
Greece. And from there they’d gone on and on together, the three of them, until
Marcy got sick of Brent’s stupid jokes and lackluster performance in bed.
“Stay,” Jesse had begged her.
“And what? Watch you screw every guy you deem worth sleeping
with? Going to bed on my own just to wake up hung-over and miserable? I’m tired
of living it up. I miss my parents, Jesse. I miss my home.”
“I miss home too, Marcy,” he’d said. “But I’m not ready.”
“Because you’re not done showing up your dad. Even now that
you sold out of the company.”
“I’m not—”
“You can say you’ve got oats to
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