Chapter 44 #2
Aside from Eamon's message, reassuring me that I should take all the time I need... all else was left unread. I don’t think I can go back to working there.
Pretending like nothing happened… as if everything hasn’t changed.
Dax sent me a text. I didn’t open that one either.
In fact, after I compiled a playlist of my own…
I shared the compilation and blocked his number.
The music was potent enough to ensure he wouldn’t try to contact me again.
I named the playlist, The Queen’s Collection.
I included: Chevelle - “The Red”, Blink 182 - “Dammit,” White Town - “Your Woman,” Primitive Radio Gods - “Standing Outside a Broken Phone Booth with Money in My Hand,” Our Lady Peace - “Superman’s Dead,” and No Doubt - “Don’t Speak.
” I know, I know! The last one was unnecessary and a week later, I felt like an asshole, but I was in a really bad place when I made it.
During my time here, I fell into a routine of feeding birds and squirrels in the morning.
Reading in the afternoon from one of the books Mairead bought me along the Freedom Trail.
While the evening proved difficult to occupy my mind, so I resorted to journaling.
When I got bored of that, I pleasured myself.
The damn vibrator stopped working on Christmas!
I was running out of things to do, ways to ensure I didn’t think about him.
Oddly enough, my duration here in the snowy mountains was coming to a close.
I received a call about a job offer. An interview for a fashion intern position.
The thing is… I don’t even remember applying for it.
The old me wouldn't have applied. That version of myself is long gone, so I agreed to an in-person meeting in a few days. I’ve spent enough time alone with nothing but my thoughts.
No longer could I avoid the inevitable. It’s time to go home.
The day before I planned on heading back to Boston, I decide it was time to catch up with emails. The starred one on top was from Andrea.
“Like a Band-Aid,” I say as I open the long overdue message. A small box pops up in the center of the screen. The email is encrypted. Of course, it is.
First, I try our apartment number as the key.
When that didn’t work, I enter each of our birthdates.
Then… the year we graduated college. “Fuck.” I groan, rubbing my eyes.
Then it hits me. What she always insisted we watch, every movie night.
I type in the word, Sandra. The words magically appear.
Of course, the password is her favorite actress.
I pull the woven cream-colored blanket over myself, as I drain the last of the liquid in my mug. “Ready as I’ll ever be…” I curl into myself as I read the lengthy email.
Cindel,
I’m glad you had time to visit Theo’s grave before you left town. Calm down, I didn’t follow you… I pinged your phone. I know you need your space and that’s why I tried to cram everything into one email, instead of blowing up your phone. This way, you could read it when you were ready.
The apartment is still standing! I haven’t burnt a single waffle in your absence.
As you know, a position will always be waiting for you at The Black Sheep, however Eamon needed some help in your absence.
Connor was promoted and Eamon brought on his sister to assist at the bar.
From what I understand, she’s enjoying it…
only had one infraction so far. She learned it’s frowned upon, to threaten to “shave someone’s balls and feed them a pube-cupcake if they don’t stop reaching over the bar and helping themself. ”
Garron now keeps a healthy distance from Mairead, while Eamon is questioning an early retirement.
Now that I’m not tasked with espionage work, I’ve had time to apply myself in commercial illustration. Yes, it was always a real thing, but now I’m actually doing it full-time.
Please don’t rush home on my account. All our bills are covered. Your parents weren’t ready to tell you, but I believe it’s important you know… our apartment building is owned by your family. All the money you’ve put toward rent has been put in a savings account for you.
I may not have had a ‘real-family’ most of my life, but I do know what it’s like to feel lonely.
For me, you’re like a sister. The most consistent relationship I’ve ever known.
I’m not asking you to forgive or forget, but I hope with time, you can at least understand how much you mean to me. I miss you.
Especially our movie nights together, where you binge on candy and I fangirled over Sandra Bullock. By the way… good job figuring out the password!
Your folks have held multiple sit-downs with the Murrays. It seems they have worked through past indiscretions to create a new working relationship. I somehow doubt they plan on retiring anytime soon.
Dax is still around, although initially, I really wanted to kill him.
In the warehouse, he was given a choice.
Leave the city and agree to never return or prove himself.
Fall in line, right the wrongs of his father, and work together to set the city straight.
However you look at it… he chose you. Dax has been doing whatever is asked of him, all for the chance of exoneration. He didn’t make this decision lightly.
First, he was tasked with torturing his own father.
Each victim’s cause of death was delivered by his son’s hand.
We all laid witness to Nicholas’ fate. Multiple doses of insulin were administered to your diabetic uncle, as punishment for Theo.
As the plethora of drugs coursed through him, Mini Cannon, firecrackers were packed into his ear canal, before being ignited.
It was quite the show. That one was Dax’s idea…
on your behalf. Finally, a rope was suspended with just enough slack to provide a slow strangulation in Mary Murray’s honor.
Mairead may have turned his body into a pinata, despite others’ objections.
Nicholas got exactly what he wanted. His blood money will be used to repave the South Boston Waterfront, with his ashes mixed in.
It’s his city, although we are the ones to walk upon it.
Over in the old club district, you’ll find a small area of sidewalk that's been demoed and fenced off. In the spring, Mairead and I will plant American chaffseed. A federally endangered plant in Massachusetts. Below the future garden will lie, Karl Kent and Craig Moore. A sign will be displayed as a designated “spit area,” since general law usually prohibits such behavior on sidewalks. I’ll wait until your return so we can spit on their graves, together.
I know it’s not my place, but I needed to say it.
Dax was conditioned to be a weapon. A pawn awaiting his next command to move.
Even though he’s found family… the feeling of abandonment doesn’t give way.
I understand that more than most. I can’t help but notice how each passing day seems to chip away at the usually resilient man.
He seems lost without you. I thought you should know.
P.S. Be sure to let me know when you’re coming home. I also have a gift for you.
All my love…
Your best friend,
Andrea
I was packed and heading back to Boston that very day. If traffic was in my favor, I could make it back to the city before it was dark. This way I have enough time to unpack and eat before bed. Who knows… maybe she’ll be up for a movie.
While I drive, I settle on the 2013 movie, The Heat, for a little comic relief before dealing with the reality of being back home. I return the rental and make it in record time to Southie, considering people may still be traveling close to New Year’s.
Dropping the luggage in the entryway, I find the apartment just as it was before I crammed two duffle bags to the brim and left town. The whiteboard, once bursting with life-changing information, is now wiped clean. Pushed into a corner of the living room as if nothing came from it.
Drawing closer to the panel, I find traces of residual lines and letters.
Symbols that once engulfed my mind... I was blind.
So determined to learn the truth, I didn’t consider the cost. How it could alter everything.
If I stayed, where would I be today? Blissfully alive, or bloodlessly well-informed? Somehow, I’ve landed between the two.
Just barely, am I able to make out “The Stalker’s Playlist,” among the brownish swirls of negative space. Some of these lyrics were deeply felt. A pang of guilt rattles through me over the harsh list of songs I sent him. The way I disregarded him and his messages. How I left…
From out of nowhere, a drawn-out sigh comes from inside Andrea’s room.
Eager to surprise her, I spin toward her room and push open the door to find Andrea awake in bed.
Emotions battle for purchase, joy that she is here, yet guilt for waiting so long to come home.
She has a way about her. Just three minutes hanging out with her could make me feel like everything will be okay.
Andrea’s eyes meet mine, she appears more startled than delighted by my intrusion.
That’s when I notice the sheet covering her lower half is moving, unnaturally, just between her legs.
“Oh… oh?!” I try to back out. “Shit. Sorry!” I try to excuse myself from the very awkward situation.
“Cindel?” I hear my name in a voice that doesn’t match my roommate.
The other person beneath the sheets, pops their head out.
Tousled red waves are pushed back from the face of the girl, who has a knack for making shit get weird, real fast. She climbs atop the covers, before settling on the bed beside my friend. Holy. Shit.
Andrea pulls the covers high over her chest, looking between Mairead and I, as if one of us should be the first to speak. Is… is Mairead wearing the Prince tee, I bought Andrea for her birthday?!