Pacing the room, memories from my life flashed through my mind. Every time I took a pill and then said I would stop. All the times Dex found me passed out from too many drugs, too much to drink, or a combination of the two and never complained about it. He just always took care of me.
What the fuck was I doing?
“Fuck!” I shouted, snatching the baggie from the drawer and stomping to the bathroom.
Standing over the toilet, I poured the remaining 11 pills I had in my hand. That was enough to last me a couple of days at least, maybe three if I tried hard. I’d have to figure out a way to get more in a bit anyway. Unless I just stopped this all now. Stopped this never-ending spiral I was caught in.
I dropped all of the pills down the toilet and flushed.
Half a second later, I started screaming. What I had just done sank in. “No. No. No! Shit!” I dropped to my knees and looked down the bowl as if I could will the pills to come back up unscathed. But I knew there was no way. “Goddammit!” I turned on the floor and banged the back of my head against the bathroom cabinet. Things really had come full circle. Now I had locked myself in a bathroom. “Happy now, Mom?” I asked the empty bathroom, a silent tear running down my face.
Five minutes went by. Ten minutes. And I realized I was going to have to get more pills somehow. But that would be something for me to figure out later. Flushing them was really fucking dumb, but I couldn’t do anything about it now. I needed to deal with what was right in front of me.
I mustered up the energy and walked out of the bathroom. Could I rely on Dexter and Marlowe to help me? Should I? I didn’t want to. I wanted to do this myself. I needed to figure things out myself for once.
Being fucked up is clearly not helping things, though. Something has to change.
When I looked out into the backyard, Dexter and Marlowe were playing with Dojo in the backyard. They laughed and tossed the ball back and forth, watching Dojo run between them. Looking at Dexter, a weight lifted from my chest. The air around me suddenly seemed more crisp, and I took a deep breath. My gaze shifted to Marlowe, and she wore my black zip-up hoodie. It might as well have been hers now. The pink bunny on the sleeve stuck out in the sun when she would throw the ball. When I watched her, warmth flooded through me. A coziness that felt on cold nights sitting by a fire.
I was in love with Dexter. There was no doubt about that. I didn’t understand it before, but I was starting to now. And I think I was falling in love with Marlowe too.
thirty-two
bunny
Aunt Sylvie pulled into the driveway. It was Sunday, and we were celebrating our birthdays today. Marlowe ran to the door, flinging it open and running outside. She squealed when she hugged Aunt Sylvie.
“Well, I know where we rank now,” I muttered, leaning over to Dexter as we watched the two women hug in the front yard.
“No kidding,” he mumbled, walking to the kitchen to take the lasagna out of the oven. Marlowe insisted on making us lasagna for our birthday, and she bought us a cake that was out in the fridge in the garage. It had been a couple of years since we had a cake. We told Aunt Sylvie to stop getting them when we were 18. She finally stopped when we were 21, resorting to buying us each a bottle of liquor instead.
Aunt Sylvie was only in her late 40s. But she didn’t come back to town much. She loved her life at the beach. If we needed her, she would be there in a heartbeat, but she let us grow up and supported us when we needed her. I always knew she was there for us.
“Lasagna’s done!” Dexter called from the kitchen as they walked in the front door.
Aunt Sylvie set her bag down. “Well, perfect timing then.” She wore black capris and a Led Zeppelin t-shirt. As we sat around the table, we told Aunt Sylvie about the Battle of the Bands shows. I left out the details of me being fucked up at the last show.
“I can get you some tickets to come back with me and the guys if you want.” Marlowe turned to face Aunt Sylvie with a huge smile on her face.
The older woman smiled and replied, “You fucking better, Mar. I’m not missing that.”
Dexter and Marlowe started to do the dishes while Aunt Sylvie and I took Dojo out back.
“Can I ask you something?” I watched as Dojo wandered out into the yard sniffing the grass.
Aunt Sylvie lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. “Of course, Wy.”
“What if I’m in love with them both?” I pulled a cigarette from the pack in my pocket and lit it, not taking my eyes away from Dojo in the yard.
Sylvie moved to face me, crossing her arms over her chest. “So what if you are?” She took a drag from her cigarette before she continued talking. “Bunny, you’ve been through enough bullshit in your life to worry about whether or not you love those two perfect people in that house. If it’s what you feel in your heart.” She poked her dark red painted fingernail at my chest. “Then it’s right. Fuck what anyone else says.”
“But what if…”
She cut me off. “But nothing, Wyatt. You can never know what will happen. You just have to find comfort in knowing it’s what’s right for you. Right?”
Nodding, I agreed with her. I knew she was right. I was almost there. I had almost found it.
When we walked back inside,Marlowe had pulled the cake out of the fridge and put twenty-four individual candles on it.
