past – Page 6 – three good words

Dana is crying and Christie is trying to calm her down. They were on their break, smoking a cigarette in front of the diner. The group of girls turned up like a hard cut, suddenly they were there, looking like so much trouble Dana had no time to adjust. Many things were said, but the one sentence Dana remembered was, ‘I see your sleazy ass one more time and I’ll fuckin’ cut you, bitch, I’ll fuckin’ cut you!’ said so close Dana could feel her breath on her skin.

It had taken all of Christie’s hard-nosed cool and the general crowd on the street to keep the woman from making it worse for Dana. She fled into the kitchen after the rest of the group dragged the screaming woman away. Dana refused to come out for five minutes. She had never been called ‘slut’, ‘whore’ and ‘white trash’ in the middle of the street. Now it had happened. Kelsey had warned her the city could get rough, Kelsey, her best friend back home.

‘Be careful, ok? They do things real different over there. Like real different. You’ve gotta toughen up some. You’ve gotta stop bein’ so nice all the time.’

Hearing it was one thing. Actually living through it…. Dana’s hands are shaking, she can barely hold the coffee someone gave her. Christie keeps on looking at her like that. Dean who manages the grill just came out to check on her. Jenny the manager asks her for the third time if she’s all right. Dana nods, holding back the tears. Jenny doesn’t believe her, but she doesn’t say anything either. She turns and tells everyone else, ‘All right, all right, show’s over, get back to work.’ Christie won’t let Dana bus tables for another five minutes, Dana doesn’t mind. She spends her five extra minutes breathing consciously like the councilor said. She makes a conscious effort to center herself. It doesn’t change the fact that she recognized the violence in that woman’s eyes. And with recognition memories kicked down doors Dana thought she’d locked firmly shut. At least now she knows how to shut and lock them again.

Jenny lets Dana go home early. ‘You don’t look good, honey. Go home, have some rest. See you tomorrow, ok?’ Dana nods, ‘Ok.’ Christie’s allowed to take her home, Dana saw her talk to Jenny seriously. In Dana’s apartment, Christie makes hot chocolate and cooks up some pancakes, while Dana sits huddled on her couch, staring out of the window. Her hands still tremble a little but she can hold her cup steady again. Now, safe within her own four walls, Dana realizes that she should have expected something like that to happen. She’d never seen such venom spewed so openly though, right out there in the street. The last person who shouted at her like that was Bobby, and that was in her flat.

Bobby.

Dana drinks from her hot chocolate, it’s smooth and sweet, filling her with warmth and comfort. Yes, Bobby. Bobby who she trusted like a kid, a child barely walking. Bobby who got drunk a little too often, but she didn’t notice until much later, about a year after they got together. Bobby who after that one drink too many suddenly turned into someone who threw things and hit her.

The first time was such a shock Dana stayed, she couldn’t believe it happened. It had to be a mistake. And he was very drunk. He’d been out with his boys again and Dana got angry. They started arguing, shouting, and then it happened. She couldn’t believe it, so she stayed. It had to be a mistake.

And then it happened again. Dana was so horrified, she packed her bags, took the car and drove the sixty minutes to her Mom. Bobby came looking for her the very next day. He brought her this huge bouquet of roses, the really good ones from Paradise Road next to the French café. He went down on his knees in the middle of her Mom’s tiny living room and said he was so sorry, so sorry, she didn’t know how much. He swore he would stop with the drink. He swore it would never happen again.

Her Mom was watching, her Mom who thought Bobby was ‘such a fine young man. And from such a good family, too,’ as if that made it really worth it and Dana should stick it through. So Dana said, ‘Ok.’ Deep down she didn’t trust it, she knew that now, but back then she didn’t believe what was happening. This was Bobby. He was always so sweet to her. They’d been to Hawaii together, ten days on Maui in a beautiful bungalow he rented. It was her birthday present, Bobby paid the whole thing. His family had the money, his Dad had a company that sold parts to Ford or Chrysler or maybe GM, one of the really big international ones. And his parents really liked her.

They always had Sunday brunch with them, they had this beautiful house down Lanagan Street where all the houses had pillars and beautiful terraces with couches and plants. No. 251 even had a couch swing. They always had Sunday brunch in Lanagan Street and Dana was always invited to the parties, or ‘do’s as his mother called them. They always teased her that she was going to be the next Mrs. Hillard. And they really loved Bobby, Dana always felt he could tell them everything.

That was the Bobby she knew. Bobby who was Mr. and Mrs. Hillard’s genuinely charming son. He was deferring Harvard (Harvard!) to help his Dad in the company, his Dad was still recovering from a bad heart attack. Bobby had friends and buddies everywhere, he was always getting invited to places. Everybody liked him, there was no one Dana knew who didn’t like him. He made people laugh. That was the Bobby she knew. He really just had to stop with the drink. So she went back and it went well for a long time, at least six months. Dana started thinking maybe she was being too tough on him, he really was trying. Maybe it really was just the drink, he hardly touched it anymore. And it was ok if a guy was a little jealous, wasn’t it? It showed that he really was into you, even her Mom said so, especially with such a guy like Bobby. ‘He could have anybody and he chose you.’ Even Kelsey agreed.

So Dana stayed, longer than she should have. She stayed until the last time, a Saturday night where she came back to her place from going out with Kelsey and her wild friends. Bobby had moved back in with his parents after his Dad’s bad heart attack, he wanted to spend as much time as possible with his old man, so Dana still had her own place. They did keep on talking about moving in together. Bobby really wanted to, Dana just didn’t want to live with his parents. They’d been looking at places close-by that time. Bobby was at her place that night, waiting at the door, smoking his cigarette on the steps. He was very angry. Apparently he’d seen her with someone, it didn’t matter that they were a whole group. That’s how it started, that Saturday night when she went out with Kelsey and her friends who weren’t exactly normal but really nice.

Dana held her cup tighter, pulled her legs closer. She had started to tell herself that it might have gotten much worse if she hadn’t screamed her lungs out, bringing the neighbors down the stairs and into the flat. It might have been much worse. All she had was a cracked rib and a bad concussion. It could’ve been worse. She’d heard about worse in her group. At least she had the sense to scream for help. That’s how she saw it now.

It was a warm summer night so everybody had their windows open. That’s probably why the neighbors heard. They were two, the community college guy Mark and his car mechanic friend he always had over, Stu. Stu had fixed Dana’s car for a decent price when it decided to break down again. It was Mark and Stu that night. They ran down and dragged Bobby off her and that’s when the fight started, but Mark was quick and Stu was strong. Stu kept Bobby pinned down while Mark called 911. Dana was in a corner, clutching her knees, immobile.

The police made her file a restraining order. Officer Sanchez was a woman and she didn’t ‘give a fuck if it’s the Hillards.’ She said that straight at Officer Kirkland who Dana had seen at Mrs. Hillard’s parties a few times. He always seemed to be have a really good time. Officer Sanchez didn’t care, she was furious. She’d reached Dana first, saw her face and shouted, ‘Kirkland! Look at this!’ Dana wanted to hide herself but Officer Kirkland was already there and saw everything. Dana still couldn’t forget the look on his face. Right then, she felt like something so broken, she knew she couldn’t be repaired again.

Dana didn’t want to sign the restraining order though. She didn’t want to make it worse. Officer Sanchez didn’t like that. They argued, Dana tried to explain. There’d just be trouble for her Mom who worked in one of the Hillard’s downtown offices. Her Mom was too old to find a new job if they fired her, people didn’t need secretaries that much anymore. Officer Sanchez said she’d make sure that didn’t happen. If they fired Dana’s mother, what happened to Dana would be in the paper’s next, Officer Sanchez would make sure it was front page news. Officer Sanchez looked like someone who could pull that off.

Dana still didn’t want to make the Hillards angry. Mr. and Mrs. Hillard had always been very nice to her, kind even. If she put out a restraining order on their son, that’d be the end of it, they’d never speak to her again, and if the Hillards stopped speaking to you, basically everyone else did. Just thinking of the whispering that would happen was bad enough. Officer Sanchez slammed her hand on the table, stared straight at Dana and said real calm, ‘You sign that damn paper, girl, otherwise next time he’ll be after you with an axe and there ain’t no stoppin’ that with your hands. You wanna live? In peace? Put your fuckin’ name on it.’ Her exact words. Officer Sanchez looked like she knew what she was talking about. She’d been with Dana through everything from the hospital to the questions at the station. She’d been there, through all of it, and made sure Dana knew exactly what was happening. If Dana had questions, Officer Sanchez answered them. She didn’t care how often Officer Kirkland asked her to ‘tone it down’ or ‘be careful’. Officer Sanchez wasn’t out to mess up her life, rather the opposite. So Dana signed the order.

She left after that, moved far away, deep into this city where she was just another face and another name, Dana, calling her Mom regularly to check if she still had her job. She still did, but life had really changed. She had to go shopping in Newton West now because shopping at home was no longer possible, people stared and whispered too much. A lot of people stopped talking to her, but Rachel and Melanie were still her friends, so it was ok, her Mom wasn’t all alone. And Kelsey did drop by every now and then to say hi, sending Dana texts right after like She’s doing good with a thumbs-up. And now, three years later, someone else screamed at her like that again, with eyes promising far worse to come.

Dana feels nauseous for a moment, but forces herself to stay calm. She tells herself she should have known, she did see them together. She should never have agreed to join him anywhere. She promises herself to never see or speak to him again, and takes another sip from the hot chocolate. Christie really knows how to make it. And the air smells wonderfully of fresh pancakes. She’s all alone here, yes, everything is still very strange and different, but there’s Christie who’s a real friend. The door bell rings, sharp, making both Dana and Christie jump. Christie presses the buzzer and opens the door without checking. Next, Samantha comes bolting up the stairs, shouting ‘Sorry I’m late!’ Dana sits up, surprised, Christie must have called her. Sam runs in right then, all anxious, ‘Dana! Sweetie! Are you ok?!’ Dana feels relief and joy bloom bright in her body. Yes, she has friends here, real friends, and for that she is very grateful.

It was raining again, which was good, he liked the rain crowd. They were quieter somehow, saner than what happened when the sun was out. Caden didn’t know what the sun did to people, if they heated up over the day more, so tempers just boiled over by the time they showed up. Summer fights were always much worse than when it rained or snowed. People had less on though, so maybe it was that. Cuts and punches went deeper, looked worse with nothing to soak up the blood. Whatever it was, Caden preferred the rain crowd, they tended to mind their own business more, drinking pints, ordering whatever Siobhan had on the menu, or standing at the boards and tables having a decent time.

It was a quiet day, so Caden checked the taps, the third one was giving some trouble lately. Turns out it wasn’t anything serious, the tubes just got twisted again, Christ he’d told Mike five times to watch out for that. Anyway, after that was fixed, he sorted out the last sign-up, they needed an extra set of speakers and were definitely having an entrance fee, they expected half their fanbase to show up. Caden did the math, and told Becca to get Sean on the tickets.

After that, Caden took three orders, two Guinness one lager for the three at the screen, Man U was playing, but they were Chelsea fans. The Merlot and the Chardonnay for the girls at the pool table, and two pints for the couple in the booth, arguing quietly. After that was done, he checked the menu Siobhan suggested for the next three days and changed the soup. It was bound to get warmer again next week, Steff kept on sending out updates about the weather. Once thought of, Caden couldn’t ignore it anymore. He needed a plus one. Steff had been very clear on having a full table. At the last dinner he couldn’t avoid, Richter basically begged him to come, he wouldn’t survive it otherwise, well, last time it was, ‘I swear to God Steve, if anyone of you fuck’s it up I will kill you. All of you. I mean it. It took me six months to set up everything, this is going to be perfect.’ So, if Caden wanted peace for the next five years, he needed a plus one.

Problem was, he didn’t have anyone to take with him. Sunny was coming anyway, but she wanted to stay free to ‘nab whatever fresh meat’s gonna be there’, which Caden didn’t comment on. So, a plus one. Only who? Sunny said he should ask Marla, but Caden didn’t want to ask Marla. Ever since Vicky got herself carted off to A&E, Marla looked at him like he was part of some Greek tragedy. He knew she was waiting for him to explain, but how start that? It was bad enough that she knew Vicky existed. People always got curious once he started, then they wanted to meet her and then the real mess began. Nah, better not. She still gave him those looks though. And frankly, it would be convenient to have her around. She’d be able to keep an eye on Sunny when he wasn’t looking.

It was after her girls came over again. It was like a ritual with them, once, maybe twice a month, Marla asked if she could have a bottle or two of his wines, always offering to pay, which was ridiculous. So he decanted one and left the other on the counter, half an hour later her girls piled into the house. They were the kind you’d expect on a hen night, loud, laughing, wolf-whistling down the street, especially that Theresa. She looked good, they all looked good actually, they kept themselves well, which was nice to see. He got to see some disturbing things these days. Half of them seemed to have forgotten their underwear. He couldn’t count the times he was faced with some girl, pissed through her brain, her tits spilling out onto the counter all naked. Or the other ones who started jumping around and he ended up hoping she at least had a thong on, some drunks were watching a bit too closely. He did keep a look out, but he couldn’t be everywhere all the time and anyway, it really wasn’t any of his business what they wore, as long as the Met didn’t turn up afterwards.

This time the crowd was quiet, there was no match on so it was just the usual Wednesday crowd, easy to deal with, regular, the kind Caden liked most. Coach Lewis dropped by for a couple pints and complained about Bayern Munich again, and Greggs couldn’t stop ranting about his wife, but it was all right, Caden didn’t mind. He just stood by, nodded when he had to, and wiped down the glasses in the back so he didn’t forget them again. It was an easy evening, and luckily, Marla’s girls were out by the time he closed up the place and went up. She was still in the kitchen though, the lights out, candles on the sideboard and the sill. She had a thing with candles. It was strange though, coming up and having her scrub pans in the sink. It felt like something out of a movie he’d probably seen somewhere. Anyway, he helped her with the last, she still had some wine left, so he poured out two glasses, they drank some and he finally asked if she was busy Saturday two weeks from now. She said, ‘Ah… no, I don’t think so, why?’ So he explained. Marla listened, nodding. He wrapped it up with,

‘You don’t have to but – it’s not too bad. It’s just a bit of a party really.’
‘Ok. Is it very – I don’t know – fancy?’

Caden smiled. Fancy didn’t even begin to describe.

‘Steff likes it… just think top hats and cut-aways.’
‘Oh. Ok. Wow. I’ll have to check what I’ve got –’
‘You’ll be fine –’
‘Oh, don’t worry,’ she smiled suddenly. It always caught him off guard. She had an incredible smile. ‘I’ll get enough help, Theresa’ll make sure of that.’

He liked how easy it was, how he didn’t have to watch out with how he explained it. He needed a plus one to Steff’s second wedding, and thought she’d be good company. Sunny would be there anyway, so they could all show up. Naturally she asked questions, but he could explain most of it without going into too much detail by the time they were done with the wine. She did say,

‘So she’s not really your sister?’
‘We grew up together.’
‘But you’re not related.’
Caden drained his glass and said, ‘No. Definitely not.’

Marla wanted to say something, he knew it, but she stopped herself, finished her wine and said,

‘Ok. I think I should go up, it’s been a long day. Good night.’
‘Night.’

He liked that about her. She really did mind her own business. And she’d stayed much longer in the loft than he expected. Maybe she wasn’t like all the others on the hill, but you never knew really. It could be good for three years, and then suddenly it was all wrong for God knows what reason. He never understood what happened with Ella. From one day to the next, she just got – vicious. Vicky said it was all Steff, dripping poison into her ear ‘like in that play, what’s it called.’ ‘Hamlet.’ ‘Yes, that. Poisoned her brain, that one, you bet your fuckin’ arse on it.’ Caden didn’t know, and it didn’t matter anymore anyway. Ella was history and Steff was getting married, which was two problems solved without much effort.