who’s there when you need her but isn’t too demanding of your time. Maybe that’s why, when she came back after college, and I was back from the Army, I was anxious to spend time with her: a warm, caring woman who was just a friend.
But she was different than I remembered her. She had Shaylene, of course, and motherhood changes people in different ways, but she wasn’t always so nice anymore, particularly to Cassie. Once Rolly started bragging to me about Maryanne, I understood. She wanted my brother, and she was willing to sacrifice her childhood friendship for him. As the years have gone by, I’ve realized what a manipulator she is, and so when she talks about being concerned for someone other than herself, I can’t help but be abrasive with her. And tonight, I don’t want to play her games.
“I’m worried about you,” she says.
I know better than that. “I’m fine. I’ve been up all night and all day, and I just need to pass out.” And to think, without having to talk to you tonight. I have a lot of thinking to do.
“But Shaylene… you promised her.”
That’s right. Use the kid. I want to beat the receiver on the table until it breaks in two. Instead, I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and try to control the tone of my voice. “She’ll be fine. Tell her to call me later if she wants to talk, but I’ve got to lie down.”
I hear Maryanne sob into the phone. I hate that, and she knows it. There isn’t much a man can do when a woman starts to cry, and half the time, I think they do it because they know how it makes a guy feel. This isn’t one of those times, though. She’s crying for real.
I take another deep breath. I don’t want her to think I don’t care. “Maryanne, I know how you felt about Rolly. But we all need to get some rest and talk about this tomorrow.”
“You don’t get it. I–”
“You’re right. I don’t. And I won’t tonight. I can’t think straight, and things will be easier to digest in the morning. Go to bed. In the morning, go to work, and I’ll see you tomorrow night.” I don’t want to talk to you or think about you right now. Please, just go away.
“Clay, there’s something I need to tell you, though. Before tomorrow. Before…”
This is just what I didn’t want to happen. I’m on the verge of losing my temper. “Don’t, Maryanne. I mean it.”
But she does. “It’s about Roland and—”
And you? And Shaylene? He was my brother. Does she think he didn’t tell me?
“Tomorrow.” I place the receiver back on the hook. I’m done talking.
Standing in the shower, I close my eyes as the water pours over me, washing away Maryanne. And Rolly. But not Cassie. Nothing could ever wash Cassie away.
“Damn it.” All these years, my little brother had her. I’ve sat back and watched as she put up with his bullshit. I never stepped up. I should have been the man. And no one ever knew. Now, it’s bound to come out. Rolly is gone, and I don’t have to worry about him anymore. She needs me, and I intend to be there for her. I don’t care what anyone thinks. She killed my brother, and I’m glad he’s gone.
No one ever knew how I really felt. Well, Rolly did. He used to laugh at me, make a point of telling me how he made love to her, how he would make her do his bidding. I hated him for it. But I never pushed him away. He was my connection to Cassie, and just hearing her name, at times, was enough.
Rolly liked to talk. Brag is a better way to put it. He told me about the young girls at Fat Tina’s and about Maryanne. He was proud of the cut he was taking for paying no mind while the pushers passed out their supplies at the strip joint. I know everything.
But Cassie doesn’t. And even though she killed him, I think she loved him.
The water has gone cold, maybe a while ago. I turn it off and grab the towel from the shower bar. I pad to my bedroom, throw on a pair of boxers, and sit on my bed. From my nightstand, I pull out the picture, the
But she was different than I remembered her. She had Shaylene, of course, and motherhood changes people in different ways, but she wasn’t always so nice anymore, particularly to Cassie. Once Rolly started bragging to me about Maryanne, I understood. She wanted my brother, and she was willing to sacrifice her childhood friendship for him. As the years have gone by, I’ve realized what a manipulator she is, and so when she talks about being concerned for someone other than herself, I can’t help but be abrasive with her. And tonight, I don’t want to play her games.
“I’m worried about you,” she says.
I know better than that. “I’m fine. I’ve been up all night and all day, and I just need to pass out.” And to think, without having to talk to you tonight. I have a lot of thinking to do.
“But Shaylene… you promised her.”
That’s right. Use the kid. I want to beat the receiver on the table until it breaks in two. Instead, I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and try to control the tone of my voice. “She’ll be fine. Tell her to call me later if she wants to talk, but I’ve got to lie down.”
I hear Maryanne sob into the phone. I hate that, and she knows it. There isn’t much a man can do when a woman starts to cry, and half the time, I think they do it because they know how it makes a guy feel. This isn’t one of those times, though. She’s crying for real.
I take another deep breath. I don’t want her to think I don’t care. “Maryanne, I know how you felt about Rolly. But we all need to get some rest and talk about this tomorrow.”
“You don’t get it. I–”
“You’re right. I don’t. And I won’t tonight. I can’t think straight, and things will be easier to digest in the morning. Go to bed. In the morning, go to work, and I’ll see you tomorrow night.” I don’t want to talk to you or think about you right now. Please, just go away.
“Clay, there’s something I need to tell you, though. Before tomorrow. Before…”
This is just what I didn’t want to happen. I’m on the verge of losing my temper. “Don’t, Maryanne. I mean it.”
But she does. “It’s about Roland and—”
And you? And Shaylene? He was my brother. Does she think he didn’t tell me?
“Tomorrow.” I place the receiver back on the hook. I’m done talking.
Standing in the shower, I close my eyes as the water pours over me, washing away Maryanne. And Rolly. But not Cassie. Nothing could ever wash Cassie away.
“Damn it.” All these years, my little brother had her. I’ve sat back and watched as she put up with his bullshit. I never stepped up. I should have been the man. And no one ever knew. Now, it’s bound to come out. Rolly is gone, and I don’t have to worry about him anymore. She needs me, and I intend to be there for her. I don’t care what anyone thinks. She killed my brother, and I’m glad he’s gone.
No one ever knew how I really felt. Well, Rolly did. He used to laugh at me, make a point of telling me how he made love to her, how he would make her do his bidding. I hated him for it. But I never pushed him away. He was my connection to Cassie, and just hearing her name, at times, was enough.
Rolly liked to talk. Brag is a better way to put it. He told me about the young girls at Fat Tina’s and about Maryanne. He was proud of the cut he was taking for paying no mind while the pushers passed out their supplies at the strip joint. I know everything.
But Cassie doesn’t. And even though she killed him, I think she loved him.
The water has gone cold, maybe a while ago. I turn it off and grab the towel from the shower bar. I pad to my bedroom, throw on a pair of boxers, and sit on my bed. From my nightstand, I pull out the picture, the
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