Ryan
By the third day, things were falling apart at my house. I had to take Dylan to school and back, which meant I went in late to Riggs Auto Two and left early. The fridge emptied, the clutter piled up, the laundry was everywhere. Kate had kept her word and had never done the work of a housekeeper, but I realized now that when she was around, Dylan and I were neater. We tried harder. Now she was gone and we were both miserable.
Dylan was confused and moody after the reappearance of his mother and Kate’s leaving. Sometimes he was my son, and sometimes he was this strange alien boy I didn’t recognize. He asked me questions I didn’t know the answers to. His appetite went down. He freaked out over a slice of apple, and I couldn’t even get too mad at him. He was stressed out. I knew the feeling.
I couldn’t feel much of anything. I was hollowed-out and empty without Kate. I wished I wasn’t—I wished I could just write the whole thing off and not care. Instead I felt like someone had pried open my rib cage and scraped everything out of me, put it in a bucket, and walked away. My stomach had an ache low in the pit of it, like dread. My shoulder burned. Sleep was a joke. Twice I picked up the phone to make the call to get myself some pills, and twice I put it down again.
The dialogue in my head was always the same. She doesn’t want you, loser. She never did. You were a job and a good fuck, that’s all. What woman would want in on the shit show that is your life?
It was the only conclusion I had. Amber had showed up once, and Kate had packed her bags in the middle of the night, turned her phone off, and not contacted me again. Oh well, things got hard, time to go. You don’t stick around to help the guy who’s your occasional fuck with lawyer appointments and custody shit. Kate hadn’t signed up for that. She was out.
I would be mad, if I could feel anything except the drained, awful feeling of missing her.
“I have to go soon,” I told Dex as we finished up a job at Riggs Auto Two. It was after two, and I had to go pick up Dylan. I had an alarm set on my phone so I wouldn’t be late.
Surprisingly, Dex didn’t give me shit. In fact, he hadn’t given me shit all week—not when I came in late or left early, not on Monday when I brought Dylan to the shop with me after school so we wouldn’t get behind. He just grunted and nodded and did the work that needed doing. It wasn’t much like Dex, but I wasn’t about to ask questions.
I checked my phone, then shoved it back in my pocket and found that Dex was looking at me. We were on either side of the hood of a car, and he was wiping his hands slowly with a rag.
“You need the name of a good lawyer?” he asked. “I know a few.”
Another surprise. I shook my head. “I’ve got it covered, thanks.” I already had a good lawyer—the one who’d drawn up my custody papers in the first place. I’d called him and told him what had happened with Amber. His advice was not to contact her and not to talk to her if she showed up again—basically, not to do a fucking thing. That was fine with me.
Dex scratched his chin, thinking. “You want my guess?” he said. “She’ll fuck off and go back to Thailand.”
I’d told him the bare basics of what had gone on with Amber. Not because Dex was that great a confidant, but because I wanted him to know in case Amber ever came to Riggs Auto Two looking for Dylan. “Do you know any scary guys who might convince her?” I said, trying for a joke.
“Yes,” Dex said, deadpan. “But I won’t call them. I won’t need to. She’ll fuck this up on her own.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because she’s an idiot,” Dex said, as if this were obvious.
I looked away. That was kind of funny, but I didn’t feel like laughing.
“I got a call from a guy,” Dex said. “He sells to all the athletes in Detroit. He wanted me to find out if you still wanted those pills you were taking.”
I actually felt lightheaded. I had to put my hand on the car in front of me. I didn’t need anyone knowing that shit, but of all people, I didn’t want Dex knowing it. “He’s lying,” I said.
“No, he isn’t,” Dex said.
“Why did he call you?”
“Because he has product to move, and you haven’t answered any of his texts in months. You blocked him. He thinks you got another supplier.”
“And you know this guy?”
“I know a lot of people,” Dex said. “It doesn’t mean I like them, it just means I know them.”
I thought about Dex, about why he wasn’t a cop anymore. Some rumors said he had a nervous breakdown and couldn’t hack it, and other rumors said that he got out before he could be hit with corruption charges. The problem with Dex was that either one could be true—or neither. You never knew with him.
“You need to get better friends,” I told him.
“I don’t have any friends,” Dex said.
“I’m not taking them anymore. The pills, I mean. I stopped a while ago.”
Dex nodded. “You feel like taking them now?”
There was no point in denying it. He already knew. “All the time. But I won’t.”
“You better not,” my brother said. “Let me tell you something, Riggs. If you score—no matter who it’s from or where—I’ll know about it. And I’ll kick your teeth in. You’ll hurt so bad the Dexbleed will seem like a picnic. Now go get your kid and get out of here.”
Late that night I was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. Dylan was asleep in his room, but as usual my thoughts wouldn’t shut up. My head was buzzing with lack of sleep, but my body didn’t get the message. So I lay there as the two of them battled it out.
On the nightstand, my phone vibrated. I made myself wait a long moment before I picked it up. That isn’t a text from Kate, I reminded myself. You think it is, but it isn’t.
I finally picked up the phone and let myself look. I felt a jolt of energy go through me when I saw Kate’s name.
Hey, she wrote. I have to pick up a few of my things tomorrow. Just letting you know.
The empty space in my ribcage hollowed out a little more. I couldn’t let her get off that easy. That’s it, then? I wrote back. We’re done?
There was a long pause, and I thought she’d turned her phone off again. Then the dots moved.
We need to talk, she wrote, but I need some time. I’m very confused.
Welcome to the club, I texted back.
I don’t think I’m handling this very well, she wrote.
I scrubbed a hand over my face. The pain in my shoulder was nothing compared to the other pain I felt right now. Was this what it felt like to be in love with someone? How the fuck did anyone stand it? I wanted her back, but I couldn’t have her. Sure, I could track her down, make some big gesture, and maybe get her into bed—but that would be all it was. I knew that. It would just be killing time until she left again. I didn’t have some magical dick that could make a woman love me when she didn’t already. I wished I did, but I didn’t.
I could find her. I could try and convince her. But we’d seen each other every day for months, and we’d lived in the same house for weeks now. We’d talked and we’d had sex and she knew everything about me. If she wasn’t convinced, I had no idea what would do it.
Okay, I texted her. I’ll look for another nanny. Because I couldn’t do this shit by myself. I had no idea how I’d done it as long as I had. No wonder I was cracking up by the time Kate came to my doorstep.
I’d find someone else. I’d go to an agency or something. I’d get someone who I didn’t have a history with, who was in the business of taking care of kids. Someone who definitely would not live in my house and make me insane.
You should find someone, Kate wrote. I’m sorry.
Everyone is fucking sorry, I wrote back. I’m turning my phone off now.
And I did it. I turned my phone off and put it down.
It was still a long time before I closed my eyes.