3. Mari
The silence in my apartment was deafening. The uneaten food and presents for my niece and nephew sat mocking me.
At first, I was filled with the numbness at being let down once again. Then, the self-pity that maybe it had been my fault for having any expectations. Then, the guilt of expecting busy people to bend to my will. Finally, came the pain in my chest that felt like a growing chasm that would swallow me alive. I did not care for that feeling. Nope, nope. The best thing was to focus on something else.
Like pie.
I grabbed a fork and a whole pie and wandered to my bedroom. I huddled into my blankets, prepared to wallow away the hours with calories and bad TV. The long, eventless weekend stretched ahead of me. I couldn’t even leave the house and risk running into somebody and deal with the questions about my lack of company.
I forked the pie into my mouth.
“Oh no,” I said around a mouthful of banana cream pie. Cath and the rest of the seniors in the marching band who had volunteered to put on a show needed to be notified of the change of plans. Humiliation burned my cheeks. Had I really thought my family would be excited about a marching band performance from the local high school? That version of Mari was delusional. That Mari bought pies and had high hopes. This Mari needed to just focus on where she was needed. Cath and the students were my focus. They needed me, and I could help them.
My phone vibrated as it rang on my vanity. I shuffled out of bed and raced to answer. A brief shimmer of hope that maybe Jonas and Alice might still come flooded me like a bolt of adrenaline until I saw the name on the screen.
“Hello?” I answered.
“Hey, Mari.”
“Hey, Devlin. How are you?” My voice came out sort of tight and shaky. When I looked in the vanity mirror, I was surprised to find that I was pale and a little queasy looking. My eyes glistened. I pulled myself together. These pesky emotions would have to be compartmentalized and dealt with later.
“Are you okay? Is this a bad time?” he asked.
“I’m fine.” I kept my tone businesslike.
I shook my head, remembering why Devlin was calling. Cath. This was about her. Her whole unmarred future still sat in front of her. No wasted plans, no forgotten family members, just hope and...jumping catfish. I was being morose.
“Were you able to find somebody to help?” I asked excitedly.
“Sort of. Have you heard of Leo Cooper?” Devlin asked.
I dropped my fork into the pie tin. “More so lately,” I muttered.
“Don’t let the gossip fool you. He’s a good guy.”
“Hmm.”
“And very talented. He’s the best drummer for the job.”
“Okay.” This was now two trusted people who vouched for Leo. Maybe I could give him a chance. This was about Cath. “Cath is very eager to start preparing. I just need to check with her.”
“Except he can’t do it.” Devlin finished. Maybe he could have led with that...
I stared at the wall, unable to find my words for once.
“I’m sorry. I really wanted this to work for you and Cath.”
“He said no?” I asked. Weirdly enough, and maybe this was a side effect of my renowned forceful nature, but Leo’s denial to help made me want to refuse his refusal. He should want to help. He should want to give back and nurture the next generation. Janice was such a caring and giving person, how had the apple fallen so far, gotten so rotten?
“He said he’s got too much going on,” Devlin said. He was silent a moment, then added, “He said he was busy and something about wasting time in a small town and with a stupid music program.”
“Excuse me?” I said through clenched teeth. “He said that? Are you kidding me?”
Anger started to bubble in me. This was a nice change of pace from the chasm of pain. The anger felt good. It felt like focus. It felt like taking charge of a situation.
“Something like that,” Devlin mumbled. “I didn’t want to say that, in case it upset you.”
Raging, raucous red overtook my emotions. Of course. Wouldn’t want me to ever get upset. I heard my mother’s voice telling me to calm down and be ladylike. The words spilled out of me.
“He’s got a lot going on? No, Devlin. You and I have a lot going on. He’s a spoiled rock star who doesn’t want to help the community that raised him.”
The only reason I even considered this far-fetched plan was because of Janice. That and Leo’s talent, of course. I had wrongfully assumed that any decent person would want to help.
There was a pause. I heard the happy gurgle of a baby in the background. Devlin made a sound I couldn’t identify. “I guess he can’t be bothered. If I couldn’t convince him, I can’t imagine anybody can.” The challenge hung in the air.
“Ohhh, haha oh.” My reflection cackled manically. “No. No. That’s...” I couldn’t even get words out; my tongue was too tied. “I’m going to go talk to him. I got Ben Huntsford of Big Ben’s Dulcimer shop to donate to the jazz band, and we know he still uses one-ply toilet paper to save money. I can sure as hell win this goob over. Where does he live?”
This was the cherry on top of this day. My body burst with unfocused anger. It blasted all around like a pinball. The anger was a welcome distraction that I thoroughly latched on to. More importantly, I thought of Cath and her talent being wasted. Not on my watch.
“I really shouldn’t say . . .”
“You know what? Never mind,” I said, trying to sound light.
Clara had mentioned him before. Shared about his weird daytime activities and the never-ending parade of older women coming and going from his house. How he never went anywhere or did anything. I could figure out where he lived in less time than it would take to write it down.
“I really should tell you to leave it be,” Devlin said, but if I wasn’t mistaken, he wasn’t all that convinced.
“Okay,” I said, my voice high and tight.
“Okay?” His skepticism rang clear.
“You can say that you told me to leave it be.”
“I tried, you know. I just...maybe I could help Cath, if I move around?—”
“Don’t you dare. You have enough going on. Thank you, though,” I said.
“You’re okay then?”
“Fine and dandy. Right as rain. Happier than a toad in a downpour.”
“Convincing.” The baby started crying. “I gotta go. Keep me posted.”
The call ended, and the anger merged into a plan. This guy thought he was too good for this town, huh? Too badass a rock star to help the children of his own community in need?
Well, I wouldn’t be the hot-headed cliché people made me out to be. I was going to be smart. Rational. Make a plan. No more of this reactive, intense Mari stuff.
But I sure as hell wasn’t about to give up.
“If he’s too good to leave his house, then...” I muttered out loud, now fully distracted from the remaining ache in my heart, a plan formulating. I paced my short hallway.
Maybe it was the disappointment of another long, lonely weekend stretching ahead of me. Or the knowledge that another person was abandoning this town. It wasn’t ladylike, I should keep a lid on the frustration. I could use honey rather than vinegar, but the tendrils of an idea were forming and spreading through my brain like the sticky tentacles of an octopus.
No more moping. No more wallowing. So what if everybody else in town had family, and I was totally alone. I gripped the counter and took a deep breath in.
I wasn’t alone. I had the bands, my students, and Cath’s future to focus on. I would narrow my focus on my students and forget anything else. I could make that happen.
Janice had said Leo just needed a good push. Might as well be me who pushes. And really, maybe he just needed a proper welcome to Green Valley.
Turned out, I did have plans for the weekend.