Chapter 21: a loss for words
I must’ve hit my head on the side of the tub at least four times that night- whether fighting to get comfortable or simply unaware of my surroundings. Then I awoke to the sun blaring through the uncurtained window and stiff muscles throughout my body. I felt groggy and grouchy to the max until I took in the totality of my reality. A couple knocks on the head and an obnoxiously bright light were suddenly the least of my concerns.
I had nothing available for breakfast, so I put on workout clothes and set out to find a store where I could pick up a few basics. I walked several blocks to get a feel for what my options were before settling on a chain convenience store I knew from childhood. It was a tiny comfort that helped me feel the world wasn’t as big and foreign as it otherwise felt.
I bought a couple bottles of water and enough snacks to hold me over for a day or so since convenience comes at a price, then headed back to my apartment. I took a… meandering route. Which is to say, I got lost. I’d been so preoccupied with digging through the container of nuts and taking in my surroundings that I mixed up one of the turns. I didn’t notice until I ended up four blocks in the wrong direction. I couldn’t afford to be too bothered by it, though. I had to learn my way around the city eventually, so I forcefully reminded myself that there was no time like the present. Engaging with my fears, doubts, or anger only had the potential to consume me. I also coerced myself into the mindset that extra walking meant additional calories burned. Deep down I knew I was walking on the razor’s edge of delusion, but I needed to do- or think- whatever I needed to avoid a breakdown.
When I finally arrived back at my place, I put my perishables in my tiny fridge and the granola and nuts on the counter before heading to the shower. Thankfully, I’d packed enough toiletries to last me until I could figure out the best places to shop on a budget. I did, however, fail to pack any towels. I improvised and dried myself off with a clean t-shirt.
I spent the rest of the day sitting on the floor with my laptop. I responded to a few emails that came in the week prior, then searched for jobs and free activities nearby. I couldn’t focus on any of it, though. I stared blankly at the screen much of the time, aimlessly scanning for a link to click me onto the next page; most content failing to pierce my conscious mind. It was going to take far more than the internet to distract me from what was battling in my mind and heart.
The next day was more of the same, only I’d spent my morning walking around Bronson Canyon instead of a convenience store. It was a few miles from my place, so I laced up my busted sneakers and got in a solid workout before I resumed web surfing. When I wasn’t looking for jobs, I spent a fair amount of time searching for the basic necessities- whether through online shops or for local stores that sold what I was looking for. It seemed my days were going to “Groundhog Day” themselves until I found a job or other routine to fill them.
On the third night in, I was searching for activities in my new neck of the woods and found that Frank Lloyd Wright’s Hollyhock House was less than a mile away. Even though I knew little about his work, I was grateful to have something to look forward to for the following day. Living in the future was my only escape from the present.
I hadn’t slept well since arriving in L.A. for all the obvious reasons, so I had several hours free to try some online yoga videos before Hollyhock even opened. By 10am, I’d already showered and dressed for my outing, and was almost finished with my breakfast when a knock on the door nearly startled me out of my skin. The tiny granola bar I’d eaten suddenly felt like an anchor in my gut, as surprise and mild terror gripped me.
My mind raced for an explanation and the best it could conceive was someone was looking for the previous tenant. So, hesitantly, I approached the door. Just as I was about to look through the peep hole, they knocked again. My head was about an inch away from the intrusive sound, which roused my already frazzled nerves enough to force out a shriek.
Then I heard a sturdy, yet friendly, “Candace? Open up.”
WHAT? HUH? Not one soul knew where I was, so who the hell was intentionally knocking on my door? My body went from ‘normal’ to knees weak and palms drenched with sweat in seconds as my heart raced faster than a racehorse.
I nervously peeked through the thick layer of construction dust on the peep hole and saw the back of a blonde head. Thoroughly confused, I left the chain on the door and opened it slightly.
As soon as I realized it was Alex, my racing heart switched from that of panic to sheer exuberance. I slammed the door shut and pulled wildly at the chain before swinging it wide open. The comfort of his presence engulfed me, causing me to momentarily forget I hadn’t told him, or anyone, where I was.
His tight hug sent a flood of relief through my body. I felt like my arms were wrapped around a mountain; he was so solid, steady, grounded. I didn’t want to let go. When I did pull back from him, though, I let the questions fly: “What are you doing here? How did you know where I was? What’s in your bag? You staying?!”
Alex offered a quick hello before calmly stepping inside. He glanced around for a place to set his bag but, once he realized the closet I now called home was as barren as I was, he thoughtfully placed it on the floor next to us.
“I’d offer you a place to sit, but,…as you can see…,” I gestured broadly with both hands, “I’m not quite settled in. How’s the floor?” I offered embarrassingly. I grabbed Alex a fresh bottle of water from the fridge and mine from the counter, then led us to the far wall so we could plop ourselves down.
Alex was quiet, with only his caring smile overlaying a faint sense of overwhelm.
I leaned my back against the wall where my phone had been charging and pulled my knees close to my chest. I fidgeted with my shoelaces while I waited for him to answer any of the questions I’d already asked.
“So, what’s going on, Candace?” he dove right in with a direct question, yet gentle tone.
“Can we not?” My face burned with shame. “How did you know I was here? I didn’t tell anyone where I was going.”
“You’ve been logging workouts from this address. You and Brody are synced up on your app, remember?” He peered at me like a kind, patient father would a scared child.
He was right. Every bit of him was right- even my being a child.
“He’s worried about you. But you know that,” he spoke with disappointment and a hint of something heavier, “Why won’t you talk to him?” as he rested his head on the wall, like he had all day to wait for my answer.
“But how did you know which apartment I was in?” I had no idea where that question came from. Perhaps, my subconscious took the reins to buy me some time before facing the heavy stuff.
“I looked for mailboxes without a name. There were three. One looked like it was under construction, you weren’t at Mr. Lee’s apartment when I stopped by there. Nice enough guy, though. You were door number three,” he was so matter-of-fact, it seemed that he’d done it before.
I just sat there impressed.
“Can we get back to things?” he flashed a sweet, sly smile. “Why are you shutting Brody out?” He rubbed the back of one hand along my outer thigh, soothing the tension between us.
“Not wasting any time, huh?” I’d known shame before, but his words hit differently. How could they not? I’d betrayed my best friend. I can’t say I would’ve had a reply otherwise, but the stirring of suppressed emotions gave me more reason for pause. Another wave of shame washed over me when I acknowledged there was nothing I could say to justify my actions. Pensive, I tugged at my shoelaces.
Alex sat neutral and quiet, not budging an inch on the conversation. He used the discomfort of my own silence against me like he’d been trained in PsyOps.
I got up from the floor and walked to the counter, scrambling for words the entire time. “I just can’t,” I huffed so softly it was barely audible.
“His heart is broken,” his neutrality shifted to pain. More than just his tone, I could see it in his eyes. Alex’s heart hurt, too. “What could you possibly say to Brody that would hurt worse than moving across the country without talking to him first?” his jaw slowly closed, as if he strained to do so.
SHIIIIIIIIIT! echoed through my mind, but no words from my mouth. I never thought I’d hate the way his gorgeous green eyes felt on me. But, in that moment, I wanted to toss my bottle cap across the apartment just to redirect their piercing gaze.
He regained his softness, “He told me what happened in the Hamptons.”
I sipped some water just to have somewhere to channel my nervous energy.
“Wanna tell me your side of things?” he relaxed his legs and shifted his body to get comfortable.
We entertained silence again while I searched for the words to explain where my head was. There were a million thoughts on my mind, but none mattered. I’d fucked up beyond reasonable explanation. My brain felt like it was short circuiting each time it tried to form a sentence. I couldn’t speak. The inability wasn’t conscious, it was physical. Primal, even. But I still wanted him to know what was in my heart. I needed him to know I wasn’t a monster; I was just broken. My head down, I walked across the room and unplugged my phone. I headed back to the counter and slowly lowered myself against the half wall. I brought my knees close to my chest and typed.
His brows scrunched when his phone dinged across the room, “Is that you?” He was unamused.
I nodded yes and pleaded with my eyes.
He brought himself to his feet and fished his phone out of the side pocket of his bag. He texted back while returning to his spot on the floor.
His strong jaw was clenched but his eyes appeared more sad than anything else.
I anxiously watched him craft his reply.
His jaw relaxed, but his eyes were still full.
I smiled behind bent knees because I loved his nickname for me. It was the only one I’d acquired that was spoken with such affection. It made me feel seen, or known, or like I was connected to something worth being a part of. Other names I’d been called, even my given one, had long since felt tainted by those who’d spoken it. Calling me Ace melted some of my icy heart and made it easier to let my fingers speak.
Through a series of messages, and several pauses to collect myself, I did my best to explain that no matter what I did, I wouldn’t be good for Broderick. No matter how much time would elapse, or to what lengths I might go to leave the past behind me, it would forever be a part of me. I wanted more for Broderick.
His eyes met mine after he hit send.
I nodded yes while wiping the tears about to fall from my eyes and couldn’t help but notice his were wet, as well.
I rested my head on my knees while I thought over my reply.
His eyes narrowed, shoulders pinched back, and arms waved in the air to convey my words didn’t make sense.
I looked away.
He set his flared feelings aside and softened his face considerably.
He crossed his legs.
I shook my head at the challenge of crafting a reply, then nursed my bottle of water while I thought it over.
He flashed a pesty grin in person, too.
A spontaneous laugh burst out of me…along with most of the water I’d intended to swallow. My phone got sprayed and my jeans drenched. What didn’t spew from my mouth, flew from my nose or flushed down ‘the wrong pipe’ causing choking to ensue. As uncomfortable as that was, becoming a human fountain was downright hilarious. I spread out on the floor and cough laughed for two solid minutes. Thinking about his witty comment only perpetuated matters.
Alex couldn’t help but laugh, too.
Thank God for his sense of humor- even if he was painfully accurate in his assessment.
After I got the choking under control and regained my composure, I put my fingers to work again.
I chuckled as I sat up and wiped my phone on a dry patch of my shirt.
That felt like the socially acceptable way of saying that unhealthy families breed toxic coping mechanisms.
Even with shameful reminders, his humor had relaxed me to the point of opening up more. Slowly but steadily, I told him why my marriage had ended, and that related circumstances had changed me for the worse. I could only say that I’d changed as a result of the past; I didn’t know how to express that innocuous, everyday experiences had the power to emotionally cripple me. How could words ever accurately convey such??
With the floodgates open, I ended up spilling more than I’d intended. I touched on how Broderick’s loyalty to me had interfered with his goals once before and I couldn’t allow anything like that to happen again. I quickly closed such sentiments with,
Alex was sympathetic and supportive throughout the lengthy conversation, but disbelief darted from his eyes as he typed his response.
I tilted my head to look out the window as I searched for a sensible answer. From that angle, I could only see the sky above but that was enough to take my mind far away.
A minute or so later, Alex rolled his water bottle towards me to call my attention back to the room. He’d already learned not to wait too long before doing so.
After thinking for a moment longer, I crossed my extended legs and spoke aloud. “I’ve been trained to see things from all points of view. To thoroughly assess E-V-E-R-Y-T-H-I-N-G. I’ve learned to speculate the outcome before I ever start the journey, so I get bored with things before I even begin them.” I also wanted to say that I feel hurt by things before they have the chance to unfold, but I held back. “I’m rarely in the present, if that makes sense. All I can see is how badly Broderick could be hurt when our relationship ends. He deserves better than that.” I looked at him with robotic blankness, unintentionally conveying how extensively studying the human condition had actually dehumanized me in many ways.
After chewing on that for a quick second, he responded with genuine understanding, “Yeah. That makes sense. It’s the same for us,” his eyes were locked in thought and his voice cracked from breaking the lengthy silence. “Lawyers, I mean,” he cleared his throat and looked me in the eyes to ensure I heard his truth.
I’d never thought of that before. I stood and began circling slowly, methodically.
“We have to be so informed about a case and the people involved that we can anticipate their next move, rebuttals, evidence that could change a case in its tracks... We arm ourselves with back-up plans and counter offers… Feeling like we’re existing in the future while both feet need to be planted in the present. I get it,” he sighed at the collective weight of adulthood.
I leaned against the wall he’d been propped against and lowered myself to the floor next to him. I sat quietly, anticipating more of his insights.
“Living that way can lead to burnout, though. Everyone needs to turn their brain off sometimes,” he casually explained, “Hiking has worked wonders for me.”
Such a foreign concept. The only time I’d ever ‘turned off my mind’ was while under surgical anesthesia. It was the most peaceful I’d ever felt. I regretfully accepted that I didn’t have any outlets that were strictly for pleasure. Everything I thought, sought, or did was rooted in goals and objectives. I had to catch my breath each time such depressing realizations hit me.
I told Alex I wanted to take a little while to think about what he’d shared. When I attempted to elaborate, he cut me off, “Where has that gotten you? Didn’t you say that contributed to things?” his hand motioned to the situation we were smack dab in the middle of.
Tension weighed heavy on my chest from the certainty that he was right, so I let out a torturous sigh. Stealing time to myself wasn’t serving me. If anything, it was about to cost me another relationship. Feeling that Alex had been right about everything so far, I mustered the courage to ask, “Then what?”
He looked at me and smiled, then rose from the floor and handed me his phone. On his way to the door he said, “I’ll give you a few minutes to yourselves.”
Ourselves? I looked down and saw Broderick’s number on the screen. I groaned and tipped myself over on the floor, curling as tightly into a ball as I could.
I reluctantly hit the green circle.
Difficult doesn’t even begin to describe the battle I had with my ego for words fit to express my remorse. Or how soul-crushingly lost I’d been, how ashamed I felt for so many things- including disposing of our relationship(s) by running away. I wanted him to know how profoundly inept I felt but, at the same time, never wanted him to know.
Broderick wasn’t thrilled with my trying to solve one problem by creating ten more, but he remained calm, level-headed, patient, and respectful throughout my botched apology.
We talked for about twenty minutes before Alex returned with a bag of food that smelled so Heavenly it made my mouth water. I hadn’t had much of an appetite while my stomach was a ball of nerves, but felt the full force of hunger after talking to Broderick and getting a whiff of something akin to burritos. I eagerly, yet thoughtfully, ended our call, then exchanged Alex’s phone for the sack of takeout he extended to me.
Alex and I talked about life, relationships, hardships, and even dreams over dinner and into the night. His tender heart guided him to inquire about my experiences, but to also tread lightly any time I struggled with the details.
He’d posed a question while I was lost in thought about a previous remark. Realizing I didn’t hear what he said, I snapped back to our conversation with, “Sorry. What was that?”
He repeated, “Does Brody know that we were kind of together when I visited?”
Recalling how hot it was lying in bed underneath him elevated my heart rate. I bit my lip to stave off an embarrassed smirk and composed myself as best I could, “He’d assumed that we… you know…, but I told him we didn’t. Not that he was snooping, though. Why?”
“It was different when you guys were just friends,” he emphasized with air quotes, “But things are different now. I just want to be straight with him. No need for more surprises. You know?,” he winced, not loving the prospect of having that conversation with Broderick.
This time, I assured him by resting my hand on the forearm that wasn’t steering beer into his dry mouth. “If he can cope with my moving 3,000 miles away with nothing more than a note on the table, he can probably handle some almost sex between us,” my fingers rocked back and forth between Alex and me. Embarrassed by the absurdity, I let out a nervous giggle.
He joined me.
Once our chuckles faded into smiles, I leaned in to hug him. A real, lasting hug. The kind you reserve for those who love you despite your glaring faults- who give you the space to cry, or curse, or get lost in thought and emotion, but won’t let you drown there.
After loosening my grip on Alex, I slid closer to him so that our shoulders were touching, “I don’t know if I can ever thank you for today,” my throat zapped dry.
He placed his left hand atop my right and tucked his long fingers underneath the pair. He squeezed gently, but firmly, “You don’t have to. Brody’s family. I’d do anything for him. For you both.”
There weren’t words in my vocabulary to form a poignant enough response, so I squeezed his thick fingers with my entire hand and touched my head on his shoulder.
“Had I known you’d want to sort through things over text, though, I could’ve saved a lot of money,” he let out a hearty laugh.
I lifted my head and playfully punched his sturdy bicep, only barely making contact.
“I’m just kidding, Ace. I’m glad I came,” he wrapped his arm around my shoulders and gave a quick squeeze.
“Me, too,” I spoke softly with my heart open, but still heavy with the consequences of my actions.