Chapter Eighteen : PB&J Giveaway
We had sex right there on the hard wood floor of the music room. Stripped and tangled for the last time. One more time before it falls away from us. Before it breaks. Before we tell Glen. Before we possibly break.
Fast and hard. Soft and slow. Standing, sitting, lying down. Everywhere and nowhere all at once. Minutes that felt like precious hours. Minutes that felt like time standing still.
Like time stopped completely.
And as Ashley kissed between my thighs, languid and loving, with my hands buried in her hair -- as my back bucked and bucked up off that painful floor, feeling more alive than ever -- I briefly wondered if time would ever begin again.
I silently prayed it wouldn’t.
Falling back against my apartment door, I sigh.
But the end came eventually, as it always does and always will. The end washed over us, just when we needed it but long before we ever wanted to see it. The clock picked up again, striking time into action once more. Striking it into double time. Minutes suddenly felt like seconds. Time suddenly passed too soon.
Cause I’m already home, and I’m already more alone than before. More alone than I can even remember.
It was hard to leave her. I can’t lie about how hard it was to not stay there. To not spend the night between those soft arms. Those safe small arms. I can’t lie and say a river wasn’t born outside her house. A river made of my tears, wetting a flooding trail to my car in her driveway. Following me all the way home to mine.
It was that hard, even harder. Because I can still feel those river tears sticking to my cheeks. Because I can still feel Ashley’s slick body all over mine. Because maybe time did stop with her between my legs, sweaty and threaded.
Maybe those people, those girls hopelessly tied together, maybe they're frozen in time now. Maybe they're stuck there, in some alternate world where they can be together. Where they can just be. While I'm stuck inside this cruel world, locked inside my own self made prison. Because no matter how much we both want this. No matter what hard plans we’ve made to break away and come clean. I already feel like I've lost her.
Trudging to the fridge in this dark dark kitchen, instinctively knowing my way, I only taste goodbye in these lazy tears cascading into my mouth, mixing with hers. Mixing with a taste that is only Ashley. And this salt salivating my mouth has never tasted so bittersweet. Has never tasted so damn final.
The refrigerator door shines a vacant ray of light straight against me and through me to the rest of the kitchen. Painting this entire scene in my lonely and isolated desperation. My desolation.
The Jelly finds its way into my hands blindly, no need to even look. This is routine, this is mechanic, and I continue along the same engraved path inside my feet's memory. Right for the cabinets above the toaster. Reaching for the bread, and reaching for the peanut butter.
Reaching for my comfort.
Jelly from the jar sticks to my fingers as I twist off the cap. One of my biggest pet peeves. Usually. But tonight it’s not so bad. Tonight, feeling Jelly on my fingers is comforting. Tonight, feeling my Jelly and knowing it (she) lingers is all I really have.
“Uh oh...”
I flinch, just slightly. Not too alarmed. Somehow, I expected it. Somehow, I knew Madison would be waiting up. Or maybe I just needed her to. Maybe I just needed someone to be waiting for me. To fill my loneliness with love.
Glancing over my shoulder, I find her in the doorway, leaning on the wall in her sweats and a T-shirt. The most low key I’ve ever seen her.
And it makes me feel safe.
“Hey.”
“Don’t 'hey' me, Missy, something’s up.” Soft and warm, she sleepily trails her way into the kitchen, “Peanut Butter and Jelly at...” A sideways glance towards the microwave, “...1AM is never a good sign.”
A puff of air leaves my lips, and if she were trying to be funny it could have been taken as a laugh. But she wasn’t trying to be funny. And I sure as hell wasn’t trying to laugh.
I do this a lot. Ashley and Spencer sandwiches. They’re my chick flicks after a break up. They’re my Jack and diets on a hard night. They’re my coffee on a slow morning. They’re my Valium on a bumpy flight.
They’re my everything.
And I guess Madison knows this. I guess Madison knows so much more than I’ve ever believed. Than I’ve ever known.
Than I’ve ever given her credit for.
“Yeah...” Trailing off, not committing to her concern one bit, I focus on the task at hand. Spreading the thick butter like a pro, never rushing, never crumbling the delicate bread beneath.
I hear her sigh from behind me, plopping herself down at the kitchen table, while hitting the light switch on the wall “So, what’s going on?”
“Nothing.” Whispers from my pouting frown. Feeling the walls closing in. Feeling Madison zeroing in.
Aiming straight for me.
“Spence...” There’s that deep breath, there’s that wind up for a grand slam, the pull back for a Hole-in-One. “What happened tonight? I mean..." It's so close I swear I hear her already swinging, "...what happened with Ashley?”
There’s me floored. There’s me with my mouth wide open as if I’ve just had the wind knocked right out of me. And in a way I have, in a way Madison just took it from me with those simple straight forward words. Yup, she just shot me down. Right on the bulls eye. My bulls eye. And I’m not saying anything. I’m absolutely silent, letting my breaths trickle out from my throat.
“Come on Spence. I know whatever is going on with you, whatever this is all about, it’s about her. Don’t even try and deny it, because aside from the fact you’re home right now instead of sleeping over at hers...” She pauses, and I’m so afraid to turn around, I’m so afraid to move, because I just know, there’s no turning back tonight. I know this is it, right now, inside this too bright kitchen, things are unraveling. “Nothing gets past me, Hun, I know everything. And when you’re making one of those, when you’re making a random Peanut Butter and Jelly, I know something’s going on with your girl.”
My girl. She just referred to her as my girl. All I want to do is smile. But there's a larger fear weighing me down. A larger fear having to do with how right she is. And how much I hate it. God, I hate that she’s always right. I hate that she knows so much about me. I hate that she knows me better than I know myself. And I hate that I’m still not moving. I hate that I’m still not saying a word. Instead, I’m letting my silence do all the talking. Letting her know she’s right. Silently shouting she’s right on the fucking money.
And as I hear her inhale one deep kitchen breath, I know she knows. I know she knows she’s right. She knows she’s hitting me, hitting me right in my most sensitive spot. She’s poking and pulling at the pink bubble gum measly covering up my leaky overflowing pipes.
“How long, Spence?”
I feel myself closing in and opening up all at once. I feel myself stuck in the strangest world of release and suffocation. Of relief and burden. And I don’t even know if I have a voice as I stutter, “What?”
More terrified then ever.
“How long...” Her voice sounds so close all of a sudden, so freaking loud, even though I know she’s barely whispering, “...how long have you been in love with Ashley?”
Like that, like the light switch she so easily flicked on, I’m crying. Quick, quiet tears. There really is no going back now. Because she said it. She spoke the truth, and I can’t lie to her. I can hide, but I can’t lie.
“I...Mads...we...” But I can’t keep talking. Words escape me. Words are a distant stranger. I’m a baby right now. I’m as inarticulate as a newborn. The only sound disappearing from my lips are my sharp intakes of breath. Suddenly feeling breathless. Suddenly feeling incapable of speaking. Only capable of crying.
And once again, Madison knows. “Oh, sweetie, it’s ok.” I don’t even realize I’m wrapped in her arms until I feel my own hands clinging to her t-shirt. “Shhh, it’s ok. It’s ok.”
She repeats it over and over. Like a mantra set inside comfort cooing. And while I don’t believe a word of it. While I know there’s no way anything could possibly be ok in this situation, it somehow makes me feel better. It somehow lifts the weight pushing down on my lungs.
It allows me to breathe again. Deep long breaths as if I’ve been held under water. As if I’ve been drowning for longer than any person should go without air.
“Come on.” She leads me to the living room couch, her hand holding onto mine like the safest leash, making sure I don’t lose my way. Practically sitting me down, she smiles warmly, lighting me up inside, “Wait here, I’ll be right back.”
I’m still too lost to say anything. I’m still too shocked to realize this is really happening. I’m still so out of it, I don’t even notice her sitting beside me, once more. My sandwich placed in my lap and an ice cold drink -- one needed Jack and Diet --pushed inside my hand.
“I thought you could use these.”
Madison’s voice pulls me out of my trance. Bringing those tears cascading down my cheeks back to life. Making me feel everything again. But there's something else inside me. There’s something else forming on my face. Those same salty cheeks are actually dimpling. Pushing a small stranger of a smile on my face. And I can’t believe it.
I can’t believe there’s actually little drops of relief raining down on me. Covering me. Coating me. And it shows. It shows as sincerity drips off every ounce of my voice from my whispered, “Thank you.”
Taking a sip of her own drink -- a typically Madison Cape Codder -- she smiles again. She smiles as if I’m not the worst person in the world. As if my non-confessional confession weren’t a first class ticket to Hell.
No, she seems like she’s actually happy. She seems like she’s on my side, and not just because she’s my best friend. Not out of loyalty but out of choice. And I can't help but feel one sliver of happiness because of it.
“I mean it, Spence...” Her fingers lightly wrap around my wrist, making me realizing my fingers are gripping the plate sitting in my lap. The flimsy paper plate full of my comfort and two year baggage, “It really is ok.”
I gulp, knowing exactly what she’s referring to, and knowing I’m not quite ready to fully believe her. “How...” My eyes shift nervously towards hers, so afraid, “...how can you say that?”
“Because I can.”
A small strangled jolt of laughter leaves my throat, unable to sustain it from her bluntness. From her no bullshitting.
“No, really, Madison. This is not ok. It’s...” I shake my head, still not ready, still not brave enough to actually say it, “...it’s just not.”
“Spencer...” She sighs, as if she were just realizing or finally remembering that this is not going to be as easy as she had once thought. “Do you love her?”
And I sigh too, because I realize this is how this conversation is going to go. It’s how it has to go. It has to be her pulling from me. It has to be her fishing for my truths. Because once again, I could have hidden, but I could never lie. And I’d never ever want to when it comes to a question like that.
“You know I do.” Without hesitation, I whisper my painfully honest answer, looking straight down on my PB&J.
“You're right, I do know. And I've known since the first day I met her, since that miserable night at O'Neill's, I've known that Ashley loves you too. That Ashley is so freaking in love with you it's kind of heartbreaking."
Tears spill over my eyelids. Tears for how right she is. Tears for how heartbreakingly right those words are.
"The way I see it, the love you two have, that connection..." Her hand tugs my wrist, forcing my eyes to look into hers, forcing my eyes to face her truths, "...there's no way there could be anything not ok with that. What you two have is beyond ok. What you two have is incredible, Spence. It really is."
"Madison..." I shake my head, eyes closing with more harsh tears, not willing to accept anything she's saying, not ready to hear my hopes and dreams said out loud as if they were truth and reality. "You can't say that. I mean, what about Glen-"
"Fuck Glen."
I don't laugh this time from her blatant honesty. I only cry. I only shed years worth of tears. Shedding myself of so much burden.
"Fuck Glen, ok? He may be your brother, he may be married to Ashley. But he doesn't love her. She doesn't love him. And you know some thing Spencer, I really hate saying this, but I have to because it's so God damn true..." One deep breath, "...your brother could be the biggest asshole I've ever met. Ever. You do know he's cheating on her, I mean you have to know that."
My head swivels like a Lazy Susan on speed, "He is?"
And her eyes roll like ferris wheels. "Spencer, please. I know you're not that oblivious."
She's right. I'm not that oblivious. I've seen the way he looks at other girls. I've seen the way he whispers in their ears when he thinks no one's watching. The way he touches even when someone is watching.
I've just never brought myself to really accept it. Because then I'd have to accept everything that could possibly come from it.
"Ashley's not that oblivious either. I know she's not. I just don't understand why she's married to him. I don't understand why she married him in the first place. It was so obvious how in love with you she was. Jack and I have known about it since day one."
This almost makes me want to smile, for the idea of Ashley loving me. But this knowledge only makes me want to vomit more. Vomit for my past mistakes. For Glen's infidelity. For Ashley marrying him in the first place. And for not understanding why either.
For feeling so lost.
For finally fully realizing that Madison now knows.
Madison finally knows everything she already knew all along.
"God, this is so messed up," I shrug hopelessly. "I've messed this up so bad. It could have been so different if I wasn't so afraid. If I wasn't so..." Beyond frustrated, my voice putters out once more, allowing my crying eyes to take center stage.
"Stop, Spencer. Stop stop stop." She shakes her head, setting down her drink. "It's never too late. Ok? I get it. I do. Yeah, you were an idiot. And I pretty much wanted to smack you sometimes. But I love you anyway. No matter what. Because you're human, Spence. We've all made our mistakes, ok? But we learn form them. It's in the past. It's over and done with. You can't change it, and you'll kill yourself if you continue to beat yourself up wishing you could."
"Madis-"
"Uh uh" One silencing palm held out, she means business, "You are going to let it go, ok? You are not going to utter another word about how you could have done that or how you've messed up this. I will not hear anymore of it. Because if you keep doing that, Spence, then you're just ruining now. You're just creating more mistakes for your past. More things to dwell on years from now. You read me?"
And I do. Sniffling, and blinking my damp eyes, I finally understand what she's getting at. And she's right.
"We're going to tell him." I softly confess, feeling like it should make this all better. Feeling like I need to tell her, as if it makes me a better person.
"Damn right you are."
Man, she's tough. She goes right for broke. And I love her for it. I realize just how lucky I am to have her. I finally understand how much I need her.
And I've never given her more credit than I do now.
"And just so you know..." I still won't look at her, feeling too vulnerable to put myself all the way out there "...it hasn't been - I mean we've only been..." I cough, strangely and unbelievably uncomfortable about discussing sex with her, with my other half, "...you know, it's only been recently. For like the past few days."
Catching my drift, she laughs. Full fledged belly laughter that baffles me.
"Yeah. Ok, Spence."
"No, Madison, we really have. It only just happened." I need her to believe me. And I'm not even sure why. Because she obviously doesn't care.
But I care. I care about these past three days more than I've ever cared about anything. And that's why I need her to believe me.
"Spence, it doesn't matter when you physically started sleeping together. You've been mentally intimate for pretty much the past two years. And let's face it, that's just as intense as sex. That's even more intense."
Once again, she's right. Once again she's hitting the bullseye and winning the jackpot.
And I'm just nodding my head, softly agreeing with her.
"Speaking of which..." Her voice drastically goes from serious to sneaky, and I feel myself blushing for already knowing where she's going with this. "The sex must have been fucking mind blowing. I mean with the kind of build up you two have had going, you've basically been foreplaying for two years. Seriously, Spence, how fucking amazing was it?"
Oh, God.
Somehow she's effortlessly dropped the intensity, only to replace it with my unbelievable embarrassment. My unbelievable shyness. I've never been one to shy away from sex talk. And I've never blushed an inferno with Madison.
Because it's never meant something until now. It's never meant so much that I've never wanted to share it. I've never wanted to selfishly keep something to myself as much as I do now.
And as I gulp down my drink, the strongest Jack and Diet known to man, Madison knows it.
"Oh there's no way you're muting up on this one, babe. I've been waiting to hear these details for forever. Now, spill it."
I finish off my too late cocktail, somehow already feeling it, and knowing a long night rests ahead. Knowing there's going to be no sleep for me tonight. Turning towards her, with a smile -- an actual smile -- I finally accept it all. Everything that's transpired tonight. All of Madison's truths.
But, really, I've finally started accepting my own.
And it both kills me and relieves me to admit it feels good. It feels so damn good, that I can't stop myself from smirking between what feels like new lips.
"I think you better make me another drink if you want me to spill anything."
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It's sometime after 3AM and I'm only just shuffling inside my room. One long conversation with Madison about everything and anything Ashley, I'm feeling tipsy. Five lightly shaded Jack and Diets later, I'm collapsing onto my bed. Snuggling my face deep into the left side pillow. Inhaling the intoxicating mixture of Ashley's shampoo and perfume. Smelling it and missing her.
Needing her.
And before I know it, I'm reaching for my phone. Drunkenly dialing the numbers that'll never leave my mind's memory. The numbers I could reach for and find in the darkest room with the most inebriated fingers.
She picks up on the first ring.
"Spence?"
"Hey." I whisper, quietly, sincerely.
"Are you ok? I mean, is everything alright?"
I take a minute, mulling over the idea of telling her all that happened tonight. Contemplating confessing to the confessions I've made to Madison.
"No, yeah. Yeah, everything's fine." Breathing a sigh of relief, I don't go there. Not tonight. Not when I just want her. "Everything's great. I just wanted to hear your voice."
"Oh, yeah?"
She chuckles, knowingly. She chuckles, hearing the drinks in my voice. But she doesn't say anything about it. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I think she's enjoying my honesty. My laid back, unfiltered, honesty.
"Yeah." I breathe into the phone, rolling to the side (her side) fingers playing over her pillow, "And I wanted to make sure you, you know, checked for spiders and feathers before you went to bed. Well, checked for feathers mostly, because those can really sneak up on you."
Her giggling on the other end warms my heart more than anything I've ever heard. It tugs my lips into a lazy smile. And as her laughter dies down, I close my eyes. Feeling like she's right beside me.
"Spence?"
"Yeah." Whispered in a light voice, like a child, I hear her smile through the phone. I hear her final words before sleep tugs at me.
"I miss you too."
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