* * * * *
I have a lot of explaining to do. The big, fat liar has a lot of explaining to
do. I almost lost it in front of Kaela today. I had Liz, Max and Michael over
for a barbecue. It kills me every time to see him, knowing what I've done to him
and how hurt he is. It's in every motion he makes around me. In every look he
gives Kaela. And I know I have to make amends for it…but how? How do I tell her
that her father is alive? And that she knows him? How do I tell her I've lied to
her…all of her life? The nagging, nauseating feeling is so intense…but it's
time. Especially after today.
~~~
It was after Max and Liz left. They made some lame excuse about having an
engagement for the evening. Yeah, right. Liz…honey…you're the worst liar. I just
nodded, giving Liz the "yeah, right" look that we understand so well. Max just
looked at me like "this is not my idea." And Michael and I…well, I'm assuming
here…were both looking at them like "thanks, a lot."
So, Peanut was in her room, up to mischief, no doubt. God, she's still mad at
me. Mad that we aren't going to be here this summer. And Michael and I were
silently cleaning up, each understanding to not occupy the same space for any
extended length of time. Between the guilt rolling off of me, and the hurt
rolling off of him…not good to have those vibes in the same space. So we managed
to get the mess cleaned up, avoiding each other for the most part.
I began to do the dishes, and Michael offered to help, but I declined. It was
much easier to have him standing on the other side of the island than near me.
He must have felt the same, because he accepted my declination. So I did dishes
while he stood behind the island. I was waiting. Waiting for him to ask me about
Roswell.
I wasn't dumb. I knew he caught everything I said at the
soccer field, only to
be reinforced by today's conversation. And he never asked me a thing about it.
It was driving me crazy. I didn't want to be the one to bring it up. I don't
know why…I just didn't. Okay, I know why. Guilt. And having to actually talk to
him about "it." Decisions regarding Peanut. She was his daughter and I was going
to be taking her to Roswell without his consultation. I'm such a chicken.
Actually, it was plain fear. Fear that he would come, too. I knew Kate was gone.
Max and Liz filled me in on those details. Aside from the conversation by the
hospital bed…Michael and I haven't really had any conversations since.
Ironic, isn't it? This is a man who used to beg me to shut up. Would sometimes
do anything to get me to stop talking. And now? Now I couldn't even muster up
enough courage to talk to him about seeing my mom in Roswell for the summer.
There was more to it, actually. This part of me was screaming at him for his
help. Regarding talking to my mom. I just still had no clue how to go about
telling her, or letting her know that I was alive. And my gut knew that he would
have a solution. It's just…I couldn't open my mouth. I wouldn't let the words
escape.
I didn't deserve his help. I just didn't. And I was having a really hard time
dealing with the Michael in front of me. I thought he was still a hot-head. But
that Michael that I fought with in the living room-it wasn't really who he was.
Parts of him, maybe. But this man…this man was giving me space that I didn't
deserve. Against everything he was feeling, he was respecting my wishes. Why?
What happened all of those years? Liz was vague on details regarding Michael.
She sensed that I just couldn't handle it. No matter how much I wanted to know,
the lingering question remained, "Do you really want to know?"
As I was finishing up the dishes, Peanut came bouncing down the hallway. "Hi,
Hi!" My weird little girl. She started to twirl around the living room before
running into the kitchen.
"Mom can I have another cookie. My last one. I promise?" Yeah. Sure. Like I was
going to put any more sugar into her.
"No, hon. You've had enough cookies for today." She crinkled her nose in
distaste and turned to face Michael.
"Michael. Do you think I've had enough cookies for today?" Little monster. I
shot Michael the "yes" glare.
"I'd say if your mom says no, you should listen."
She didn't like his response,
and gave me her "pouty face."
"Peanut. Do you want to invite Nathan over?" Placate the child.
"He's not here."
"Where is he?" I don't remember Jess saying anything. Oh, wait. I haven't talked
to her in a while…
"At his dad's." Oh.
And then the conversation turned frightening. Well, very uncomfortable. I didn't
need to hear this, and on the other hand…I did. I was still trying to protect
myself from this, from what I did, and it wasn't right. It wasn't fair. And I
was about the face the music. And all of it was due to Peanut. It was like, out
of left field. Her question to him.
"Michael, did you know your daddy?" I nearly dropped the glass I'd been drying,
and turned away as a wave of hurt flashed over his face before he answered her
quietly.
"No, not really. I kind of knew him." I have been wondering what he thought of
his family…before their deaths.
"I don't know mine. Mom said he'd love me, though." My entire insides fell
apart. Thank god for my skeleton because it was the only thing keeping me
upright. I couldn't even look in his direction. I could not see what his eyes
held.
"Yes, Peanut. He would." He does. I am scum. Bottom-feeding scum in the nastiest
fish tank on the planet.
"What about grandparents? Did you know them?" Peanut, honey, I love you dearly.
But, please shut up.
"No. I never met them. They died when I was young."
"I've never met mine….well, I gotta finish coloring. 'Bye you guys." And with
that, she was leaving the kitchen, trotting back to her room.
Michael and I were left in the wake of her words. How does one go about carrying
on a conversation after that? More importantly, what made her decide to have
this conversation at this particular moment? When we were alone? Left to deal
with it? Oohh…she is so his child sometimes…I doubt he even realizes it. We
didn't even talk about because Michael left shortly thereafter. He just couldn't
make eye contact with me. And I deserved it. Every ounce of it. He said
"good-bye" to Peanut…even read her part of her story before leaving. And I
knew…what I was going to have to do.
~~~
I have never been terrified of Peanut or her room. And now…I am just standing
near her door, listening to her talk to her stuffed alien Kyle brought her.
"E.T." is his name and she absolutely loves him. I didn't need Kyle to tell me
that it was from my mother's shop. Where else would it be from? Okay…you can do
this. You can do this.
"Peanut?" I entered her "war-zone." Yeah, Michael's kid alright.
"Yeah, mom?"
"Did you have a good time with Michael?"
"Oh, yeah. He even read me more of the "Lion and Wardrobe" story."
"That was nice of him."
"Yeah, but he likes me. Just like Uncle Kyle likes me. He would have read more
if I wanted him to." Yes, he would have read you the entire series if you wanted
him to.
I look at my baby in amazement. I always thought she really was the perfect
combination of us. Or maybe, it's just that I can clearly see both of us, or one
of us in every action she does. She rambles like I do. But her temper…Michael's.
She loves anything related to art, to colors-Michael. She bounces around to her
own groove-me. And she's stubborn-that's us.
"Peanut…I want you to know why we aren't going to be here this summer." He head
whips around to me, in interest. "Oh, boy, this is hard." And I have to keep my
voice from faltering. I have to say this to her. "My mom lives in Roswell."
"Your mom? My grandma?"
"Yes."
"You said she was gone!"
"I know, Peanut, I did." I walk over to her bed and motion for her to join me.
She's still clutching E.T., looking at me with distrust.
"Please, baby. I need to tell you some things." There must be something in my
voice because she walks over to the bed and climbs on my lap. I wrap my arms
around her, taking in the scent of my daughter. I rest my chin on her head and
begin.
"Remember when I wouldn't let you play on the monkey bars because it wasn't
safe…because I thought you would get hurt?"
"Yeah."
"And how I won't let you go to certain places because they aren't safe?"
"Yeah."
"Well, honey…a long time ago, I left home because it wasn't safe. There were
some bad people and they were going to hurt your daddy, Liz, Max, Kyle, and my
mom. But I left so that the bad people wouldn't hurt them." Because in my
stupid, foolish mind, the Skins would feel successful and all would be safe.
"Bad people wanted to hurt Daddy? To hurt Grandma? To hurt Max, Kyle and Liz?"
"Yes, sweetie."
"Did the bad people hurt you?"
"Yes, baby, they did. That's why I left. To make everyone safe."
"Is that why everyone looks at you funny, sometimes?" Huh?
"What do you mean?"
"Michael always looks at you funny. So does Liz and Max. You know, to see if you
are still there. Kind of like how I was looking at the cookies today to make
sure that you guys weren't eating them all." Great…I have a budding genius on my
hands.
"Yes, Peanut. Exactly."
"So why didn't you tell everyone you were okay?" Because I was scared.
"Honey, I don't know." Because I thought it was for the best. For you.
"Weren't they worried for you? Like I was when you were hurt?" Couldn't this be
easier? Couldn't she just understand without asking any questions? No. Of course
not. She's my daughter.
"Yes, they were." I crushed them.
"Is that why we're leaving? So you can tell your mom you're okay?"
"Yes, baby. I need to tell my mom that I'm okay." I need to face the music.
"Mom?" She turns her head around, looking me in the eyes.
"Does my dad know you are okay?" My insides start to twist because I realize
that this is it. This is where I change everything forever for my daughter. This
is where I have to make amends.
"Yes, honey. Michael knows I'm okay." I don't know why, but I can't just say
"Michael is your father," I just can't say it.
"Michael is my dad?"
"Yeah…he is. I named you after him." And she gives me the look I was afraid of.
The look that has kept me from telling her every single day since they
re-entered my life. I watch tears start to fill up in her little hazel eyes.
"Why didn't you tell me that he was my dad?" I try to pull her in for a hug, but
she pulls away, crawling out of my lap. I want to stop her, but I don't.
"Peanut, come here sweetheart."
"No." She's hurt.
"Please?" I don't want to force anything on her, but I can't back down from this
anymore. I have to be a good mom. I have to tell her the truth. I may still be
avoiding talking with Michael and my mom…but not her. She is my life and I have
to get this right. I have to.
"No."
"Michaela. Please look at me." At her name, she looks up. She's clutching onto
E.T., tightly. "I was scared. I didn't know how to tell you. And I wanted you to
like him. Just like you like Uncle Kyle or Liz or Max." I hope I'm doing this
right…
"He's okay." And I catch it. Her indifference ploy. And I allow myself a secret
smile…she likes him. And I decide to play along.
"He's okay?" She grins.
"Yeah. He's too quiet." Ah, true. For her, everyone is too quiet. Except Nathan.
"He's nervous. He wants you to like him."
"He's got funny hair." I have to laugh at this.
"Yeah, he does. You did too, when you were a baby."
"I did not!" She puts her hands on her hips, still clutching E.T. in one hand.
"Yes you did!"
~~~
We continued to banter for a little while. Peanut got silent again, and I knew
she was thinking about what I had said to her. She finally crawled back into my
lap, and I just held onto her. She asked questions about what Michael was like.
She liked the fact that he was an artist.
"He paints all day?"
"Yeah."
"Cool!"
But she would quickly become quiet again. She asked about my mom, about Roswell.
She wanted to know if she would like it. I told her about The Crashdown and how
Liz's parents owned it. I told her that Liz's dad would make her a special
ice-cream sundae. I could always get the kid with ice-cream. Her weakness. We
talked for a little more, and I felt better.
I know she's still upset with me, but I think, so far, she's doing okay. At
least she's going to let me read to her tonight. I'm going to take that as a
good sign. And I feel relief. Because I did it. I told my daughter the truth.
And I owe her more…I know that…but for now, I think she's going to be okay.
But I still need to brave my mom. How to tell her. And for that…I am going to
need advice.
* * * * *
It's funny how changes happen right under your nose. Those little increments you
don't notice until something happens to really make you take notice. Maria has
been out of my life for seven years, something that I thought I was accustomed
to. And then she was back. And I was so happy. But today, talking heart-to-heart
with Maria…it just reinforced how amazing it was to have her back. And that it
was her. But, like all of us, she's changed in the past years. Some differences
are subtle, others are glaring. She's still not as feisty as we knew her to
be…but I know that time will make that better. She's still too torn over "the
wreckage I have made of everyone's life and its wake." She's terrified of
returning to Roswell and terrified that Michael will never forgive her. I didn't
know what to tell her, but I told her what I thought. I mean, there are no right
answers to questions like those.
I was up on the roof, taking a break…okay, I was smoking...when Maria appeared.
"They told me I would find you up here. Is this your 'smoking lounge'?"
"Yep, it is. Want a seat?" I motion for her to sit in the chair next to me. She
walked over and plopped down. When Maria plops…something is wrong. "So what's
wrong?"
"You mean besides everything?"
"Maria." She rolled her eyes at me, then began her story.
"I told Peanut last night who her father was." Wow. I was not expecting that so
soon. Maria kept talking. "She just came out, and the next thing I know she's
asking Michael about his parents and telling him she didn't know her dad. I
mean, right there in front of him! I couldn't have felt more like a complete
scum-bag on my way to Hell if I tried!"
Whoa. I wonder how Michael felt during that conversation. "How did Michael
react?"
"Really well. You know, as I was sinking further and further into the pits of
Hell, he just answered her questions. I couldn't even look at him, Liz. Then she
went back to her room, and he went to say goodbye to her. Then he left. And I
just felt sick to my stomach."
She stopped at that point and looked at my cigarette. "When did you start
those?" Leave it to Maria to completely switch gears in a conversation when she
feels like it.
"Oh, right after they left to fight. Remember that Kelly girl from our freshman
psych class?"
"That peroxide bimbo?" I've missed zingers like that from Maria and I have to
laugh at her comment.
"Yeah. She got me started at some party Alex, Kyle and I went to drown our
sorrows at."
"Oh. Does Max hate it?" That was unexpected. I was expecting the
you're-a-doctor-those-are-bad-for-you lecture.
"Yeah." She laughs at me.
"What?"
"Perfect Liz Parker smoking. You'd think it would be me instead of you. Just
reminds me how much I've missed. How much has changed."
I realize the air of this conversation. Maria hasn't been back long, and
although we have spent time together, not a lot has been said. She'll express
something, or reveal something, but soon after, it's gone. The truth is that
since this entire thing began, there hasn't really been a lot of talking about
things. Sure, I talk to Maria and Michael, but both are still closed and dealing
with things. Max and Michael talk, but I'm gonna guess less is revealed than in
my conversations with Michael. But as to the nature of where things stand…that
hasn't been discussed. And I realize that that's the territory we're stepping
into.
"Seven years. It's a lot of time." She looks at me and I can see the regret in
her eyes as she looks away.
"Look, Maria. It was just a statement. Of fact. I mean, I wasn't…you know…trying
to make you feel bad." I felt like I had reverted back to the teenage Liz Parker
who felt the need to qualify all of her statements. But at least it seemed to
work.
"You're right. It is a lot of time. I have a first-grade daughter. You are a
doctor. Max is an engineer. Alex is a manager. Michael's an artist. Kyle's a
teacher. I can't believe it's been so long." I hear in her voice the regret and
the realization. Seven years was a long time, dammit!
"Maria…"
"Yeah?"
"Why?"
Her eyes pop open a bit as she digests the question. And then, she's looking at
my cigarette again.
"Do those work? I mean about stress and calming you down?"
"Oh yeah. After I saw you the first time. Chain-smoked. Then after talking with
you? I think I had like a pack before I got home. Why? Do you want to try one?"
"Um…I don't know. They're gross."
"Yes, they are."
She pauses, and I wonder what she's contemplating. My question or the cigarette.
"You're still going to have to answer the question, you know." She rolls her
eyes at me. I'm taking that as a good sign.
"Well, I guess I'll try one."
"No…I was kidding, Maria."
"I wasn't. If that thing relieves stress, hand one over."
"Maria, I'm a doctor. It's hypocritical enough that I smoke…I'm not giving you
one. Do you have any clue as to the addictive nature of nicotine?"
"Fine."
I take another drag of my cigarette, wondering why I love them so much. Why that
feeling of relaxation is so intoxicating to me.
She's watching me smoke. "Maria, you still haven't answered my question…"
"I said I'd try one." She's changing topics again.
"The other question."
"Instruct me on how to smoke a cancer stick, Evans. Then I'll answer your
question." So I give her one to try. The response is the same as when Michael
decided he wanted to try one. She hacked her brains out, but decided to
continue. Sometimes…she's not a quitter. I can't believe I just gave Maria a
cigarette.
"Do they always taste like this?"
"Yes and no. Yes, they always taste like that. But, no, in the sense that when
you need one and you get it…oh, it's fabulous."
We smoke in silence for a while, Maria trying to get the hang of it.
"I wish I knew why I never bothered to get in touch with anyone after time had
passed. Especially when I knew that Nasedo was dead. But it was just fear. Fear
of what would happen. Fear of how you guys would react. Fear that you had easily
gotten over me. Fear of everything."
"Of Michael?"
"Oh, god, yes. Of Michael. I mean, if he had done this to me…I would have killed
him. Killed him. And I was surprised and not surprised by his reaction when he
appeared on my doorstep. But, I don't want to talk about him yet."
"Maria…"
"Liz…" She mocks my tone. "Liz. I want…no, I need to know…what do you feel?
Towards me?"
What do I feel towards her? I love her. She's my Maria, my sister. And I'm mad.
Of course I am mad at her. I mean, how can I not be. I'm human. And she has lied
to us for the past years. Lied to Michael. Who is so important to me. And I
vividly remember the aftermath of her "death." But I also see who is in front of
me. I remember who I first saw in that hospital bed. And the difference…the
difference is everything. And I made a decision a while ago…hold a grudge or
work through it. So I'm working through it.
"You mean am I upset with you?"
"Yes. What do you feel, Liz? Because, we aren't talking about it. Or at least
I'm not talking about it. I mean, I told my daughter who her father was last
night and I'm too terrified to pick up the telephone and let Michael know
because we haven't talked about anything. I'm so terrified to see my mom again.
I mean…how do I tell her? Do I call her? Do I just show up? Do I have Kyle or
Michael prepare her? What am I going to do?" She puts out her cigarette and
motions for me to give her another one.
"You get a little buzz."
Desperation laces her voice. I do not envy her position. And I wish I had
answers for her. I wish I could just tell her the answers like I used to with
geometry homework. But this isn't geometry homework. This is life. And it
affects a large group of people.
"Maria. I was hurt and angry when I found out. When I found out and felt so
alone. Because all of the people that I wanted to talk to. That I needed to talk
to…I couldn't. I couldn't tell them the amazing news that you were alive and
well and had a daughter. So I was so mad at you. For like five seconds. Because
it was you. You were alive. And that mattered so much more than my anger. But, I
had to talk to someone. I had to. So I called Kyle."
"Cowboy Kyle. God, I was so pissed off at you. But, you know what, having him
around that week after the breakdown was amazing. It was like old times…you
know? Like those times when for some reason, you needed to be around him.
Because he would do stuff to make you forget what was wrong. And he was so good
to Peanut."
"I remember that time, second year, when you had that fight with Michael and
holed up at Kyle's for three days. Michael was so pissed off at Kyle for not
letting him in the house." That was funny. They had gotten into some fight…I
don't even remember what it was about. Maria went to Kyle's and wouldn't talk to
him for three days. Michael spent most of the time with me and Max, just fuming.
"Yeah…and mysteriously the water heater didn't work for a day. Wonder why?"
"You know Max fixed it?"
"Oh, of course. No way Stubborn-butt was going to fix it."
"He's better about stuff like that."
"You two are really good friends, aren't you?"
"Yes. Michael is very important to me, Maria. I won't lie to you about that.
There were so few people that could reach him…after…and when he let me in…that
sealed it for us. I guess it's because we are so opposite that it works out so
perfectly for us."
"How betrayed was he when he found out?" Try, royally.
"Oh. I was Public Enemy #2. For like two days. I didn't exactly win points by
calling him from the hospital, either. I was so mad at him for following me. So
mad at him-after I saw you."
"That was no one's fault. You know that, right?"
"I know. But it doesn't take the feeling away. That responsibility. Because when
you see someone like that…it's really hard to just think it's 'nobody's' fault."
"I told him that he didn't do it to me. I mean, I could just see it in his eyes,
in his being…he thought he was responsible." He still does.
"Yeah, he told me about the conversation. And like I said…my phone call didn't
help things out any."
"I'm afraid of him."
"Of Michael?" Why?
"Yeah-"
"Maria. He's not the hothead you used to know. Well, not all of the time. That
was just-"
"That's not what I meant. I'm afraid of him because of what I feel every time
we're in the same space. That overpowering hurt. That I caused him. Of
everything that he's been through in his entire life…I was the one that did the
worst thing to him. I took his family away from him." Oh, no. I will not let you
go into that place you were just in…
"Maria-"
"No, Liz. Nothing that happened to him on his planet could compare to what I've
done to him. The way he was in my house…was nothing compared to what I deserve.
Nothing. You should have seen him in her room-that evening. That's when I knew I
couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't fight anymore because I would lose it. And
I did."
"He was just in shock, and hurt and upset." He was just…Michael.
"Oh, I know that. I was there, remember?"
Her comment shocked me, but she continued. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like
that. I just…I know…I watched him react to everything…"
"Don't be afraid to talk to him, Maria. He can still be Michael, sometimes. But
you'd be surprised at how much he's changed these past years."
"Oh, I already know. I mean…he's letting me call all of the shots with Peanut.
He's just…agreeing…"
"Because he knows that you're the one who knows her best."
"Because I kept her from him…" Oh, god. Not again…
"Maria. Stop living in that past. For everyone's sake. She now knows who her
father is. So tell him. I know you're not going to keep her away from him-"
"No, I'm not. It's just-"
"You're scared. I know. But what are you really afraid of?"
"I've kept my feelings for him in check for seven years, Liz. Seven years. All
I've had were my memories, my dreams and her. Her eyes. God! Do you have any
clue what it's like to look into his eyes every day? To watch her do things that
are so…so Michael?! He's moved on in his life…and I'm still where I was seven
years ago!"
"You're still in love with him." Tears are brimming in her eyes as she looks
away, down at her feet. I light two cigarettes and hand her one.
"Thanks." I just nod. She takes a few drags, and regains her composure. "Yes,
I'm still in love with him."
"And that's why it's killing you…to be around him."
"Yes. I want to throw myself at his feet and beg for forgiveness, beg for
anything…just so I don't have to feel his pain every time I'm near him."
I just look over at her. She's staring off into the skyline of the city. And I
wish I had a response for her…but I don't. I have no idea what she's going
through…what to say to make it better.
"It's his last words…after I saw him…it's those words that are killing me. He
said, "I'll never forgive you for this." And I believed him. I still believe
him."
"Oh, hon." I move my chair right next to hers, and wrap my arm around her. She
puts her head on my shoulder, and I lean against her. "That was just Michael
being Michael. He had so many emotions running through him, that he couldn't
make heads or tails of it. But if you want this to get better, you have to talk
to him."
She just sighed and we sat there for a while. Then we talked about Amy. About
her complete fear of letting her mother know she's alive. And I really didn't
have advice to give on that subject. Kyle and Michael know her the best these
days. And I told her that. She wanted to know about his visits to Amy, but I
only told her that he visits. If she wants to know…she's going to have to ask
one of two people.
"Liz…I'm scared of Roswell."
"Of Roswell or your mom?"
"Okay, of my mom. What if she doesn't forgive me?" And that's when I hear it.
The old Maria I used to know. That scared, little girl who wanted her father to
love her.
"She'll forgive you. After she beats you with a newspaper." She laughs and I'm
glad I've lightened the tension. "Seriously, Maria. She wouldn't believe that
you were really gone for a long time. Is it going to hurt her? Yes. Is it going
to kill her? Probably. She's going to react the same way that we did. Except, in
the end, she's going to hold onto you and Kaela for dear life. Maria…you're
giving her her daughter back. You're a mom. You must know…"
"I never wanted to hurt anyone like this, Liz. Ever. It just…God! I hate saying
"it just happened," but it did. I know that's not enough. But, unless you were
there…unless you felt what I felt, heard what I heard…you just can't really
understand. But no matter what I say…the end result is the same. I lied. To
anyone who ever meant anything to me. I lied. And now…I have to face the worst
of it. And, yes. My mom is the worst of it."
She's right. No matter how much we want to judge her, and hate her for what she
did…we…I can't. I wasn't there. It didn't happen to me…and who knows what I
would have done if the roles were switched. If I was the one told I was
pregnant. But…letting Amy know…it's going to be so hard. All I know is, Maria
better prepare to be shadowed. Like a hawk. Because Amy will not let her out of
her sight once she returns.
"You can do it, you know. You can. But, you're going to need help. And there's
two people who can help you. And my advice, is to use them both. Because,
Maria…he'll do it. I swear…he will. But…you are going to need to ask him for his
help. And that requires talking to him."
She didn't respond to my words, just stared off at the city. But I could tell
from her body language that she was giving it some serious thought. And I chose
to have faith in her. Faith that she would talk to Michael. Because I know how
important this is to her…making amends…and if we just give her some space,
she'll do the right thing. She will.
~~~
A day later, Michael and I have a heart to heart. It's the first real one we've
had since finding out about Maria. It's not that we haven't talked…but not like
this. Not like old times. We met up at a bar after I got off work. Max knew, so
time was no issue for us. It's funny, and I don't think anyone else knows this.
Every now and then, Michael smokes. Usually only a cigarette or two, but it's
still smoking. And Kate never mentioned him smoking, so…
We get our usual. Michael has a cherry coke, I have a Bass. Sometimes, if the
bar isn't crowded, Michael even takes a baby-sip of my beer. He's pretty funny
when he's buzzed. This time, though, there was no sip. He and I just talked
about everything that has been going on in his life so far.
We talked about Kate. It's killing him. He misses her so much and yet he can't
bring himself to do what she needs him to do. And he's wondering why he can't do
it for a woman he's loved the past three years. His house is empty and messy.
His art isn't going well and he feels completely lost.
"Liz…It's like I'm losing control of everything in my life. I don't know how
much more uncertainty I can take."
And I try to tell words that will soothe him, that will ease him. But what can I
tell him? I know why he can't talk about Maria to Kate. In Michael-land, it's
simple: Maria was the only person he ever gave himself to completely, after
everything that had happened to him. And then she was gone. And in his mind, she
was dead because he failed her. And those times that they had were too sacred
for someone like Michael to just talk about. He may have changed a lot over
these past years, but some things remain the same. And certain topics are just
too much for Michael to talk about. Even Hank. Maria probably knows the most,
and who knows how much she really knows? But these are things that we know about
Michael. That's the way he is. And the one thing that Kate needs him to do…just
seems to go against who Michael is. And he doesn't know if he can change that
part of himself…
I don't even go into the fact that a part of him is still deeply in love with
Maria. I don't know what part, but this is Michael. And when he gives, he gives
forever. So somewhere in his heart is a place that only Maria holds. But that
isn't something he's ready to talk about. It's so weird to be talking to him
about his problems knowing that Maria is still in love with him. I have to
remember who I'm talking to and what's okay to be said. Because I will never
betray either one of them to each other.
I don't even tell him that Maria's told Kaela who her father is. I promised, and
a promise is a promise. And it would mean more to Michael if the words came from
Maria's mouth. Because the Kaela issue is also eating him up.
I know that he and Maria need to talk to each other, but are both terrified. No
matter what assurance Maria gives to him that he didn't cause the breakdown,
Michael sees himself as someone who hurts people. I don't know when it started,
but just how he was after he killed Pierce explains it all. And it doesn't
matter what anyone tells him, just what he thinks.
"You still blame yourself for her breakdown, don't you?" The look on his face
tells me "yes."
"Yeah, I do. Liz…what I said to her…how I said it…I was enraged. Hell, I was
practically violent, except I didn't do anything. But I watched her…I saw that
she wasn't fighting…and I didn't care. I was too concerned with me, with my
feelings to even realize she was falling apart in front of me."
I hate it when he does that. Neglects the fact that he has feelings, too.
"You don't believe that, do you?"
"What?"
"Michael, of course you were concerned with yourself. Why would you think of
her? After what you realized? After what you learned? Exactly when were you
supposed to be rational about it?"
"What?"
"Oh, you expected me to berate you for how you were to Maria?"
"Well, the phone call…" Oooh. The phone call…
"Oh. I need to apologize for that-"
"No, you don't, Liz. I caused-"
"No, you didn't and yes, I do. I was too wrapped up in her to really think about
you. And I shouldn't have made that phone call. Not like that. You know Max
tried to stop me, but I was determined. And do you think it was because I didn't
care about you?"
"No, but-"
"No, "buts" Michael. I was so upset at you for following me, when you were only
being concerned. You still followed me-"
"Yeah, sorry about that one…"
"No big deal. I wasn't acting normal and I wasn't saying anything to anyone. But
my point is, Michael, that you didn't hurt Maria. She did it to herself. And I'm
not saying that to be mean or cruel, I'm saying it because she's said it to me
so many times. She's been-"
"On the verge for seven years. I know. She told me that."
"So believe her." He looks at me as though I've just spoken Greek to him.
"I can't."
"Because of the lying?"
"Yes." Bull.
"Bullshit, Michael." Did I say that out loud?
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me. You saw her in that bed Michael. You heard what she told you.
It's Maria, Michael. How could you not believe her? I believe her."
"It's complicated, okay? You just don't understand." Oh, really? That's
right…Maria only lied to you…
"That I've been completely lied to by someone who I've loved as a sister since I
was seven? Oh, no. You're right. I don't understand."
"There's more to it than that!"
"Such as?"
"Such as…such as…I don't know." Thought so.
"Uh huh."
"Don't give me you're "I'm right" uh huh." Well, I am.
"Michael. Do everyone a favor and forgive yourself for her breakdown, for her
"death", for all of that. It's. Not. Your. Fault." Get it through your thick
skull!
"It's not that easy."
"Then call me every time you want to blame yourself." He laughs at me.
"I'm serious, Michael. If that's what it takes, then do it. You're my friend. I
love you. I'd do anything to help you."
"Liz…"
I mock him. "Michael…" He rolls his eyes at me. At least he didn't smirk. It's
time to pull out the big guns.
"Michael…forgive yourself for your daughter. Don't let her see a torment that
doesn't need to be there." Yeah, thought that would catch your attention.
He doesn't respond, instead he grabs a cigarette and lights one for each of us.
I laugh silently at the sight from yesterday and the one in front of me. Michael
and Maria smoking. "Perfect Liz Parker" introducing two of her dearest friends
into the world of smoking. How and when did I become such a corruptor? Me…as a
corrupting influence… I must have a smile on my face because he asks me what I'm
thinking about.
"Nothing." I know he doesn't believe me. I'm such a bad liar, but he doesn't
press further.
I decide to ask him about helping Maria with Amy. "Michael, I need to ask you
something."
"Shoot."
"You know that Maria's going to need help with telling Amy, don't you?" He
doesn't say anything. "I need to know something…you don't even have to answer
me, but I want you to think about it… Would you help her? If she asked you to?
At least for Amy?"
I watch emotions flash over his face, his mouth opening and closing. I think
he's about to say something, but I decide to stop him.
"I'm serious. You don't have to say anything, okay? Just…please just think about
it."
We decide that's enough "serious" talk for now. Well, Michael decided it. When
you get that look from him…talk time is over. So we meander to the pool table
where I manage to beat him three times in a row. He then drags me to the
dartboard where he can win against me. It's a known fact…I'm not too good at
darts. But at least I'm getting better.
* * * * *
The closer this plane gets to New Mexico, the more nervous I feel about "the
plan." I wonder if Michael's as nervous as I am? I look at my watch and note
he's also still in the air. My plane lands in less than an hour. Then we're
meeting up at the car rental area, and driving back to Roswell together. To face
my dad and Amy and tell them the truth.
I was really shocked, and really proud when Maria told me she asked for
Michael's help. I know it must have been really hard for her to do it. After
everything. But she's a trooper, and so far she's handling it well. She even
told Kaela that Michael was her father. But what she has ahead of her is scaring
her to death. Facing her mother.
I can't even begin to imagine how my dad is going to react when I tell him that
I've known about Maria for two months. Two months. He's going to kill me. And
Amy? What will she do when Michael tells her? Maria asked for our help because
she can't handle the shock of meeting another person. Or vice-versa. She just
wanted her mom to know prior to her arrival in Roswell. And I don't blame
her…who knows how Amy is going to react…
I don't envy Michael at all. But the three of us, with Max and Liz's help, came
up with our plan. I would tell my dad, while Michael told Amy about Maria and
Kaela. We figured it would be easier for them to find out one-on-one. Plus,
Michael and I figured that Amy is really going to need my dad, and it would be
better if he knew before she did. So I am going to meet up with him an hour or
so before Michael goes to speak to Amy. No matter how we handle it, two people
who mean something to us are going to feel hurt and betrayed. By a large group
of people. By us.
~~~
I met up with Michael, as scheduled. We rented a car and now we're on our way to
Roswell. He drives. For as long as I've known him, he always has to be the one
driving. Why do I care? It's only less than 200 miles to our destination. Until
we have to go deliver the blow. I look over at Michael. He's just staring at the
road ahead.
"Are you ready for this?"
"No." I am in shock. I can hear it, the honesty in his response. He's not
usually up front-with anything. "Are you?"
"No. I'm not. I feel like I'm disappointing my dad." I feel like he's going to
be so disappointed in me, for not telling him when I knew. For keeping this from
him.
"Exactly. On one hand, I'm going to tell Amy the only thing she's wanted to hear
in seven years…and on the other hand, I get to tell her I've kept it from her
for two months."
"Not to mention Kaela."
"Not to mention Kae." Yeah, and by the way, you also have a granddaughter. I
really hope Maria is ready for this…
"Do you think she's ready?" I don't know why I'm asking him this. I just wonder
if he's as worried for Maria as I am. I mean, I know she's choosing to do
this…but I still have an image of her as couch jello.
"I don't know. I hope so. I guess I'm trusting her on this." Again, he surprises
me.
"I was thinking…do you want to hang out with Kaela and me after you leave Maria
and Amy? I was even thinking of asking my dad." That was the other key part of
the plan. We're not telling them when Maria arrives. But tomorrow, Maria and
Michael are going to go see Amy. And when Michael thinks Amy's ready, he's going
to leave them alone. I'll already have Kaela. Because no need to have Kaela
around for that reunion. Maria and Amy need time first…before seeing Kaela. So I
was thinking about this on the plane…Michael and my dad can join us. The guys in
her life, I guess.
He actually turns to face me with a real smile. It's barely there, but it's
there. "Yeah, that would be great."
Okay. We have a plan.
We barely talk the rest of the drive. And I think we were both just fine with
that.
* * * * *
Oh, yes…finally have some time just to myself. It's been a while since I've been
able to say that. But I don't mind too much. I mean, she means well. It's
just…she's been so suffocating. But I knew this. I expected this to happen. But
I could just kill her…
At least she finally agreed to let me out of her sight today. For an entire
overnight trip. I get twenty-four hours to myself. I'm not answering the
telephone or door. No way. And I'm so grateful that Michael took Peanut tonight.
I'm kind of nervous…her first time just spending the night at his place…but I
think she's going to be fine. Plus, Michael is such a freak that he'll call at
the slightest problem. Ooohh…I might have to answer the phone… No, I'll just
screen. Yeah, I'll screen the calls.
And I already have a plan. I'm going to draw a bath for myself. A hot bubble
bath. And I'm going to put some Eucalyptus oil in it, and some lavender. And
I'll light a bunch of candles, turn up my music and drink a glass of wine. I
don't plan on leaving the tub until I'm a prune. I'm not going to think about
anything. Not about how my mom is driving me crazy. Not how Michael is driving
me crazy…for a completely other reason. Not about anything…
So that's why I'm telling my journal what's been going on since I've been here.
I can't believe it's already three months. Three months. I can't believe Peanut
starts school here in a week. My baby is going to be in second grade. I can't
believe I'm actually enjoying being back here. How comforting the desert is. How
comforting a lot of things are. Like the Crashdown. Like the quarry.
So, I was terrified of seeing my mom, but Michael was there. And I was truly
grateful to him for agreeing to help. We still don't talk a lot…unless it's
about Peanut…but it's getting better. But if he wasn't on the doorstep with me
that day, I probably would have turned and ran off. But I didn't. I watched the
door open…watched my mom's face as she saw me for the first time in seven years.
She almost crushed me…but I was probably crushing her back. It felt good to be
in my mom's arms again. It felt right.
I thought she was going to lose it…and she probably would have if Michael hadn't
been there. I still don't completely understand what's going on there, but I was
grateful, regardless. They do have some sort of bond. And it's nice to know that
they've had each other the past years. Eventually, though, we were okay. She was
upset and hurt and betrayed, but I knew it was going to be okay. So Michael
left.
I completely panicked for a second when he closed the door behind him…but I
pushed it aside. I made it go away. Because this was too important for fear. So
we talked. She yelled. We cried and we hugged. I even told her I called and hung
up on her once. And after…god, I don't know how much time…I saw Jim again. And
it was wonderful and amazing. And she met Peanut. I don't know what the guys
told her, but she was an absolute doll. I have never been more proud of her,
ever, than when she first met her grandma.
Peanut was definitely a hard subject to talk about. She knew about her…but it
was different, hearing it from my lips. And I think part of her really
understood what I did. Not agreed, but understood. And I realized that she was
the first parent I talked to about it. She was the only other person I have told
that had a child. Me. But still, I know she understood that crazy need to
protect. She may have been young when I was born, but she was still fiercely
protective of me…from the beginning.
Now since then, I have not been able to escape her sight for more than a few
hours. I'm either at the shop with her, or at the store, or the house. She still
needs to reassure herself that I exist. I know Jim senses my frustration. He
even covers for me now and again when I need some space. I usually wind up at
the Crashdown or the quarry. Depends on the time of day and my mood.
Michael keeps a place here. He's either back east, in Seattle or here. I won't
talk about my Seattle feelings. He has a wife. I have to get that in my head.
But he still has art-related work to take care of back east. And the rest of the
time, he's here. Spending as much time with Peanut as he can. She often comes
back covered in paint, rambling on and on about what they did. That's the
highlight of my time back here, so far. Watching my daughter completely happy
with her father. It amazes me, still, how natural he is with her.
I guess part of it is because she's coming into her powers. It was always
something I was worried about, but until two months ago, there had been no
indication of anything. Then she was having a fit one evening because I wouldn't
let her go to the park and she moved her E.T. doll without touching it. She was
so scared. I called Michael. And she got a long talk about how important it is
to not tell certain things to people. So far, she hasn't said much about it.
And, aside from turning things different colors, she hasn't done much.
As for me…I'm doing better. I'm coming into my own. Yes, I live with my mother,
but for now…that's definitely the best option. I think we all need to make sure
that we are here. And Peanut loves living in this house…loves having
grandparents. Loves being spoiled to death. I guess I can't blame her… I just
wish my mom would stop getting her stuff. But between my mom and Michael…I have
no say. Neither person can refuse her anything. She even has Jim wrapped around
her finger. My mom says she wonders where she got it from. What does that mean?
Well, enough for now. I'm going to take that bath. I'm going to light my
candles. I'm going to drink my glass of wine. I'm going to listen to my music.
I'm going to relax.
~~~
RING!!
Grr….
I look at the phone. To answer or not to answer, that is the question. I decide
not to answer when I hear the machine click on.
"Maria? Honey? I'm calling to check in and…" Yep, I'm going to kill her. But if
I don't answer that phone, she'll call a million times.
"Mom. It's me. I was just taking a bath…"
So much for not answering the phone.
* * * * *
I've been in Seattle six months. Six months living apart from Michael. And
neither one of us has a clue as to where things stand. Our problem isn't loving
each other…we do…our problem is the same problem. He can't talk about her. But,
I'm not going to focus on that right now. No…we had a good time…his last visit.
Ever since he's been able to know his daughter, he's been a completely different
person. I take that back…not completely different, just content. Happy. So he
talked about her a lot. I saw pictures of her. I don't even know how much money
he spent on her when he was here. Art supplies, this time. And although part of
me is jealous, I'm mainly just happy for him. Because he's getting to know his
daughter. And it just makes him glow.
We took in the museum this time and had Thai food for dinner. Like old times. We
sat and drank coffee, observing the city. We went to a used bookstore and bought
some books. It was nice to be with him…like that…again. I've missed that the
most. The little, familiar things that we used to do. And we did this time. He
told me he missed me. And I needed to hear those words. I needed to see his eyes
when he said it to me. I believed him.
And kissing him and making love to him…I missed that, too. I missed that fire
that he radiates. We got dressed up and went out for dinner. I wore a dress that
I knew he would like in a color I knew he would like. Maybe I seduced my
husband. I don't know. No. I didn't. I just looked good for him. The same way he
looked good for me. We even danced that evening.
So what's the problem? He's not here. He spends most of his time in Roswell. And
even though we had a great time last time… I still don't know. I knew he
couldn't talk about her…but I'm still waiting for him to tell me. I need this
from him. This one thing. And the problem is that I don't know if I am going to
get it. And it's just so hard, and I miss him so much and…No, I promised myself
I wouldn't do this again. But I'm losing him, or maybe he's already gone…
* * * * *
Things are changing these days. I feel like I have a direction in my life. And
it happened just after Peanut's 7th birthday party. She was in bed, and I sent
mom, Jim, and Kyle to bed as well. They wanted to help me clean up after the
party, but I felt like being alone. I wanted to reflect on how great the day
went. So I put on some music and began to pick up the yard.
The party was amazing. The weather was great, for January. We lucked out. And
Michael really went all-out. Art stuff, balloon figures, glitter-you name it-it
was there. There was face painting, and he painted Peanut's face like a cat.
Every kid at the party had their face painted. Peanut loved every minute of her
party. Everyone was having a great time. Poor Liz, though. She's as big as a
house right now, and she still has two months to go. Peanut keeps asking her
when baby Claudia is coming. She's so excited to have a 'cousin.' I loved
watching her bounce around her party. She's happy in Roswell. And today, it was
Aunt Isabel and Uncle Alex that were the favorites. Watching Isabel today-she's
really going to be a great mom someday.
At one point, Peanut hopped on Michael's back, demanding a piggy-back ride.
Since Michael is unable to use "Kaela" and "No" in the same sentence, he happily
obliged. The next thing I knew, Michael's arms were around me, Peanut's were on
my head, and she was shouting "Mom!" Someone took a picture…it's a great
picture. All of us are smiling, with Peanut's arms around Michael, and Michael's
arms around me. We look like a happy family.
As I was cleaning up, Michael comes up to me.
"Hey." His vocabulary hasn't changed at all.
"Hey, right back at ya. I thought you were gone." I knew he was reading to
Peanut, but that was at least an hour ago.
"I was watching her sleep." And my heart just melted. Well, it melts anytime he
talks about her, but there's something about him watching her sleep. Something
in his eyes when he said it.
There was a small pause, and I surveyed the mess. "You outdid yourself, you
know. Do you have any idea as to what she's going to expect for her 8th
birthday?"
He laughed at my comment. It's something he does a lot these days. Which is
fine-he has such a great laugh.
"Doesn't matter. I'll do it." Yeah, he will.
"You spoil her rotten. You don't even know how to say "no" to her." And she
loves it. And I love it.
"I don't plan to learn." And there was his trademark smirk. Damn him. Still
sexy. I was about to retort, when Peanut came bursting out into the yard. I was
worried that something was wrong, but it was alleviated. She had that 'energy'
look about her. She's quite a night-owl sometimes. She ran to me, smiling, and
wrapped her arms around me.
"'Night, Mom. Love you." The next thing I knew, her arms were gone and she was
over at Michael, hugging him. "'Night, Dad. Love you." I was utterly stunned.
Michael, in complete shock, muttered, "I love you too, Kae." And like a flash,
she was back in the house as though nothing had happened.
Michael's face changed from shock to completely radiant. When he first got to
know Peanut, he was "Michael." Over the past few months, she's been calling him
"Michael-dad." The first time she called him that-I thought that was radiant. It
was nothing compared to what he looked like now. He was glowing like Liz was.
This was the first time she ever called him "dad." He was beaming.
Tears were already forming in his eyes as I walked over to hug him. And it
occurred to me that this was really the first time either of us had held each
other. It felt good to be in his arms again. "Congratulations, dad." God, his
eyes were happy.
He smiled down at me, joy all over his face. And we just looked at each other. I
honestly don't know which one of us initiated it, but we kissed. One of those
amazing, numbing Michael-kisses. And when we parted, an apprehension set in.
Like we had done something very wrong. I was waiting for an "I'm sorry." But it
never came. Both of us were in shock, much like our first kiss at the Crashdown.
He looked down at me, "I should get going."
I felt like his lips were still on mine. I wanted to scream "No!" Instead, I
simply replied, "Okay."
He half-nodded. "Yeah…bye." And I watched him turn and leave. I just stood
there, in the same position. I brought my fingertips to my lips. Nothing can
EVER compare to a kiss from Michael.
Since that evening, things have been different for us. Nothing physical has
happened since, but our times together feel less strained. They are enjoyable.
We laugh together. We talk. Really talk about our past lives. About what
happened those years. And we each just listen to each other. I don't feel the
need to say "I'm sorry" every time we talk. And we're comfortable around each
other. And I've started to let myself have a glimmer of hope again.
Because I think he's forgiven me.
Speaking of birthdays, his is coming up and I've been mulling over an idea of
what to get for him. It sounds weird…getting him a present…but I think I just
might do it…
* * * * *
I knew it the last time I visited Katie. She knew it the last time I visited
her. No matter how much I loved her… And I do love her. I will always love her.
But…she's not Maria. I don't quite know when it happened…but at some point, the
old feelings that I had for her began to creep up to the surface. At first, I
thought it was my imagination. You know, watching her with Kae and being
completely touched at those two together. That sort of thing. But by Kae's 7th
birthday…things started to change.
My daughter actually called me "dad" for the first time. Not Michael. Not
Michael-dad. Dad. And I knew…what it was like to have the love of a child. What
all those people are talking about when their kid calls them "Ma-ma" or "Da-da"
for the first time. It's this warm, tingly glow that just spreads throughout
your entire body. Your entire existence. You feel light as air, as though your
heart is going to explode. I thought that was what I was feeling the first time
I heard "Michael-dad." But…that was nothing compared to the feeling of hearing
the word "Dad" fall from her pouty mouth. And Maria was there to share it with
me.
I kissed her. Or she kissed me. Actually, I'm not really sure what happened,
but…there was no apology. I was just looking down at this woman who gave me my
daughter. And she had called me "dad." And for a moment, I became lost in her. I
had to leave. It was too much. And I felt like I had just betrayed Katie.
But after that…that's when the real change started. I didn't feel uncomfortable
around her. We started to talk-to become friends. And I would say that we are
friends, now. Of course, Kae was often the topic of our conversations. Like her
progress in Roswell, and that she really seemed to like it here. But we also
talked about ourselves. We talked about what happened to each other those years.
We talked about that night. About our feelings from that night. She didn't
apologize, like she used to. And I wasn't expecting her to. Things happen and
you have to deal with them. And I am not an expert on dealing with things, but I
did learn some things in these past years. And I knew she was trying to make
amends for everything. She was reclaiming her life, too. She was helping her mom
out with the shop. She was less fearful of Kae.
"Look…I've been protective of her her entire life. It's hard to just…not be."
She wasn't scared anymore. That was gone. And that was probably the best change
to see in her. She lost that tentative edge she was always carrying around. No
one looked at her anymore thinking about her leaving us those years ago. I guess
we were all in the here-and-now. She wasn't going anywhere. She was here.
But it's not just old feelings coming to the surface. There are new ones, too.
And those were and still are the most confusing. What do I really feel for her?
Is it the past? After her birthday present…I don't know. She gave me Kae's baby
book as a present. The note said it was the one thing she was meticulous
about…writing down everything she did. And I can't explain what I felt. It was
like watching her grow up…reading Maria's comments. Looking at her get bigger
and bigger. It was the best present…aside from Kae.
My conversation with Katie was difficult that last time. She's the one who
brought it up. A divorce. I didn't even know how to respond to it. The part of
me that loves her was screaming "No!" and another part of me was silent. And
that's the part I was afraid of. The part that will always be reserved for
Maria. I tried to make it work with her…I really did. And some of our times
together were great…and about us. It's just that the one thing Katie needs to
know about…to hear…is the one thing I still couldn't give her. Kae was never a
problem. She accepted that right away, understanding my need to get to know her.
My need to be in Roswell if she was going to be there. But the fact that I still
could not really talk about Maria…that's what it was. I feel like I've failed
Katie.
~~~
I'm looking at my divorce papers. They've been here for over two weeks…and I
still can't bring myself to sign them. I start looking around the room, looking
at anything to avoid what's down in front of me. And my eye catches the
painting. Of Maria. That painting that Katie loves. The memory of meeting her in
front of it flashes by. It was a good day for me.
Liz's words start to ring in my ears. "Michael, listen to me. You can only do
what your heart tells you to do." She knows about my confusion. She and Max are
the only ones who know about these papers. They have been such good friends
throughout this entire 'process.' And she and I are back on track, which has
been such a relief. She ended our last phone conversation with those words.
And now, I take them to heart. I finally know what I am going to do.
* * * * *
Life has changed so much. I mean…I can't believe how time has just flown by. How
my life is…wonderful. Really wonderful. I love it here. And my job…I love my
job. And him, god I love him. And the fact that we found each other again. I'm
so lucky.
I look over to the wall and smile. I still love this painting. I will always
love this painting. Young Maria tying her shoelaces. At first, I was shocked
when I received it. But Michael is always full of surprises. It came with the
divorce papers that he'd signed. I was beginning to think he was never going to
sign them. Like he was a failure or something.
But our marriage…it wasn't a failure. I think we learned a lot from each other.
And it turns out that he wasn't the love of my life. And for those years we were
together, we were happy. But, as I told Maria once, life is full of surprises. I
mean, how else can you explain Michael giving me that painting. And…despite
everything…we know each other. And we're going to remain friends. We shared a
lot…enough to realize that neither one of us wants to throw it away. And, just
as I feel, a part of me will always love him. And that's what the painting
represents. The part of him that will always love me.
We did try, though, to make it work. But…too much was in the way. And not just
Maria. Because I gave up blaming her long ago. I gave up blaming anyone long
ago. Michael is who he is. He feels as he feels. And I know that he didn't drop
me and go running to Maria. I know that. I mean, I could have stayed with him,
and not left for Seattle. But I didn't. I left. Maybe I knew what was going to
happen…maybe not. I don't know. I think too much happened in those few short
days. And, in the end, he still couldn't verbalize his feelings for Maria. I
could have chosen to hate him for it. But what would be the use of that? We can
only do what we can. And I knew, before marrying him, that Maria was always a
subject that was difficult for him to express.
But, that's in the past now. I'm engaged. To my first love. I can't believe it.
Freshman year of college. He transferred our junior year. I hadn't heard from or
seen him in eight years. And then, one evening, we just bumped into each other
at a book store. And slowly, we reconnected. It's amazing how those feelings
just rise to the surface. How they start as a hum, then get louder and louder
and louder.
Michael and I talked about this the last time we talked. And I know he's happy
for me. And Maria has done him some good. He doesn't feel guilt for what
happened to us. And he shouldn't. We are above that. Life is dynamic…always
changing. And for both of us, the future is looking really bright.
I guess Kaela is doing great in 3rd grade. She's still a little machine on the
soccer field, and according to a bragging Michael-a budding artist. Yeah, right.
He probably just gets into paint fights with her. I wouldn't put it past him.
And as for he and Maria…I'm really happy for them. The baby is due in three
months, and Maria's convinced it's a boy. I know Michael secretly would love
another daughter, but hey…ten fingers, ten toes…it's all anyone can ask for. He
says she wants to name him James Maxwell…and I guess Kaela is already calling
him "Jamie." He was joking as though it bothered him. Yeah, right. He's dying
over the fact that he's going to get a chance at "this whole baby thing."
Typical Michael.
A while ago, I thought my life had completely fallen apart. And the funny thing
about things falling apart is…they never really do. At least I don't believe
that things stay broken. Almost anything can be put back together…it just may
not be the same. And what's wrong with that? Wasn't it a Sheryl Crow song or
something that said, "A change will do you good"? Well, all I know is…it has.
Life is good, and I'm not complaining.
The End