17. Dollie—present day #2
The wood rattles.
Waking Shane is a possibility, but at this moment, I don’t care.
Minutes or hours pass by, I can’t tell, but the sky outside the window changes shades of blue.
A quick look down at my feet shows my twisted sock and the bloodstain on it staring back at me.
I force myself up onto trembling legs. My knees quake as I take each step to the mirrored cabinet above the sink, but my foot doesn’t hurt. The weakness is caused by other reasons.
Collecting the phone on my way, I tuck it into the big pocket on my front.
My reflection shows a patchy red face and bloodshot eyes with mascara stains around them beyond the flicks of toothpaste on the mirror, courtesy of Shane and his grubby morning routine.
I rub at the mascara and add another stain to my glove that can sit alongside the dried paint.
I splash my face with water, making me look even less presentable as I glimpse at my reflection.
My mouth drops.
My mother stands behind me with as many tears as I have on her pretty face, and her throat gaped open and bleeding. Still, she’s smiling like a crazy person.
I can’t breathe, looking at her.
One tiny breath escapes, and in its place, the smell of death fills me and seeps into the already musty room. Her body slowly turns, revealing my dad standing behind us both with a gaping slit across his stomach.
Air struggles to get free from my lungs, and I feel like his big hands are around my throat. But they hang limply at his side, his broad shoulders slouching. He takes a step, my name in his accent echoing in the room.
I bolt, ripping open the door and proving my theory about the ancient lock.
Shane’s body feels like a brick wall as I collide with him in the kitchen. His arms come up and seal around me, but the safety he once brought isn’t here.
Terror has me trembling as I push him away from me.Loneliness makes me want to reach out to him, but the person I thought he was no longer exists.
“What is it?” he asks, in a voice still heavy with sleep.
My mouth opens to talk, but a jumble of words that make no sense is all that comes out.
His response to them is, “Have you seen my phone?”
My cheeks burn with emotions. I say nothing, letting the hurt and anger show on my face.
“It’s fine. I’ll find it in a sec. Gotta pee.”
“Don’t go in there!” I grip his arm, my fingers bruising against his badly done tribal tattoos with desperation.
He stares down at me, my head low with shame, as the whisper comes out.“My parents are in there.”
Shane always hates it when I say this kind of stuff, but the lack of patience in his tone is insulting. “God, Lancie. Let go. I gotta piss.”
Shaking me off, he continues into the bathroom, widening the door.
He stops, blocking me from seeing around him, and then he rushes back to me and gets too close to my face.
The kitchen table prevents an attempt to step back, and somehow, he moves impossibly closer.
“God, this ghost shit has to stop! I get that last night creeped you out, but there’s no one in there. Certainly not your parents, who’ve been fucking dead for ten years.”
“Don’t say that.” I blink, and a tear falls.
He ignores me and my feelings and walks away, leaving me hurt by his words because, despite the fear, I still love my mom and dad. I miss them terribly.
But I don’t dare look back into that bathroom to catch another glimpse of them. They shouldn’t be here. They should be resting… peacefully. With that thought fresh, I rush to the refrigerator, scanning the herbs quickly for sage.
For a second, I feel the fear that this morning’s blessing claimed it all, but apparently, it’s just crushed and hiding beneath a soda bottle.
I light it on fire with a light from the stove, shaking it around the room.
No noise exits the bathroom, aside from the heavy urination Shane does after each nap.
Sinking into a seat at the breakfast table, I pull out Shane’s phone again.
I skim the photos of other women, and my brain begins comparing us as I sit and wonder why he feels the need to look at them when he’s got me.
I don’t even hear the chain flush.
The first thing I hear over all the sneers in my head, some for me, some for every other woman, most for Shane, is him choking on the smoke around me.
“You found it.” Shane appears on the other side of the table, hand out, expecting his phone. He chokes again.
“For fuck’s sake. Give me that!” He grabs the sprig from my hand and runs it under the faucet, dousing the flame.
“How long?”
“Did I nap? Wouldn’t you know that?” His tone is sharp.
“We were planning a wedding.”
“Gee, Lancie, it was just a nap. You had to paint anyway.”
“How long have you been cheating on me?”
His body snaps straight, and his usual snail-pace is gone as he twists from the sink, dives across the table, and snatches his phone from my hand.
“I don’t know what you think you saw, but it’s not what you think.” His fingers move rapidly across the screen. He keeps his eyes angled there, too, eager to avoid my questions.
“I saw everything.”
With the sage no longer in my hand, my fingers shake against the tabletop. The noise they make agitates me as much as the expression on Shane’s lying face.
“The lists of women in their underwear. All cheap push-up bras and three layers of makeup. You have a type, it seems.”
“I told you, it isn’t what you think.”
“No?” I keep my tone even despite the tears running down my cheeks.
“No, of course not.”
“Then show me and explain.” I tap the chair at my side.
“I’ve deleted every app. You don’t need to worry about it.”
“Then undelete them because I want to see what I just saw, and have you try and explain how it isn’t what I think.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Yes, you can. Go back to your app store and click download.”
“I deleted my accounts.”
“Okay, then you can just explain to me how jacking off to some woman because she’s just so hot is not what I think? Or how you’d like another to stay here with you, in my house!”
“It’s just banter, Lancie. We aren’t even keeping this house.”
“It is not banter.” I stand, confident in his betrayal. “It is disrespect, and my name is not fucking Lancie!”
“They meant nothing to me.”
“Do not lie to me!”
“They’re just friends,” he shouts, spit flying everywhere. “Don’t blow this out of proportion. I didn’t actually do anything wrong. I never slept with any of them. You’re being dramatic and ridiculous right now.”
“You still cheated! It’s still cheating! Why did you even have to talk to them? Was it because they are so much hotter than what you have at home? So much better than your ten-year relationship.”
“None of them are better than you. None of them are nice or attractive at all.”
“Oh, so you threw away our relationship for a group of ugly women? That’s so wise. To lose everything for people you aren’t even attracted to!”
“It was just a bit of fun. Amusement.”
“Oh, really?” My voice gets louder, creating a battle of pitches.
“And when exactly do I get to have fun? Or am I meant to waste my life doing all the boring shit like painting while you make an absolute idiot out of me! Or is that meant to be my fun? Painting, dinner duties, and doing your laundry? Tell me, did I have to wash the underwear that was stained by your cum after you jacked off to that pathetic attention-seeking loser, who, by the way, is using you for all the free shit she’s getting! ”
I don’t even feel bad for slating another woman. This woman knew of me. She is all the things I said.
“It didn’t really happen!”
“The free stuff?”
“The jacking off.”
“But you still bought her things, and yet we’re struggling with money.” I toss a kitchen towel at him, and it hits him in the chest before falling to the floor. “What did you get her? Aside from fixing her shitty car.”
“Just weed.”
“Oh, my god.” My vision goes black as my hands cover my face. “You buy some girl drugs when I have to ask for every little thing because money is an issue?”
“Not like hardcore stuff, just a little weed.”
Done with this conversation, I tell him, “Anything was too much.” I pace, something I only do when I’m severely stressed.
“I’m not even allowed to get a fucking ice cream!
” I stop, only for a second, and then the pacing starts again.
“You know what, I don’t even care. The trust is broken, and so is the relationship.
I hope she and all the others were worth it. ”
“They aren’t. They’re worthless.”
“And so is this relationship now. So, go to your parents’ place or to any one of those idiot girls who’ll be willing to put you up when you whisper compliments in their ear, because I don’t want you staying here. I can’t even look at you right now.” I turn away from him because it’s the truth.
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re never gonna stay in this place by yourself. You’re afraid of every shadow.” He moves around the table, his hand landing on my shoulder. It makes my skin crawl. “How are you gonna decorate upstairs?”
I shrug him off. “I’m gonna have to, aren’t I? I don’t want you here. So, I have to stay here alone, and you need to leave.”
“This is what you want? What you really want?”
“What I want—” I straighten my spine, “is for none of this to have ever happened.”
“Nothing physical did happen. Come on, we argue all the time.”
“No, you always cause arguments, and when I defend myself, you put your fist through the wall. I can’t do this anymore. Not now.”
“But I didn’t sleep with any of them.”
Turning to face him, I risk his lies slapping me in the face. “It makes no difference. You lost me the moment you gave them attention.”
A heavy sigh leaves him, almost like he can’t believe there are repercussions for his terrible actions.
He walks away, and his footsteps quieten with the distance between us.
Disappointment crushes me, taking me to my knees. Our relationship wasn’t perfect, but it’s all I’ve ever known.
And now, I don’t have it. It could really be over this time.