Shell Shocked

Chapter 25

Chapter

Twenty-Five

SHELBY

September 2013

“Did you watch?” Kendra asked me on the phone.

The Emmys had aired the night before and I’d stayed far away from my television. “No. I couldn’t. I really thought about it, but I couldn’t.”

“I understand why it’d be hard for you.”

“Did you watch it?”I asked.

“We did. And I recorded it just in case…”

“How was it?” I asked. I wasn’t sure how much of the details I really wanted to know.

“You know they won, right?”

I did. “Yes. I saw it online this morning.” I didn’t click on the article for fear of more pictures, but I was happy for them. For Jake.

“He brought his mom. It was so cute.” Kendra said.

This little detail made me smile. I bet she beamed the entire time, especially with everything they’d been through together.

“He thanked you by name.”

“What?” I found that impossible to believe.

“It’s true. Granted, he thanked all the women in the episode by name, but he did it in reverse order of how they appeared on the show. So, your name was last. He paused, looked into the camera, and said, ‘Shelby.’ I don’t know, maybe I was reading too much into it, but it seemed like a little message.”

“You’re definitely reading too much into it.” Obviously, not having seen it I couldn’t be sure, but I knew I would not be watching for a long time just in case she was right.

I hadn’t let myself think about Jake too much over the last month and a half. Just wound it all into a neat little ball and tucked it away as usual.

The following Friday I was hosting a dinner party. My parents had been over to see the house, but not my in laws, and Andrea had let me know in no uncertain terms that Marion, in particular, was feeling slighted by my not having invited her. I needed to continue to make nice with them considering they were still so involved in Brody’s life and kind enough to be paying his way through Marquette.

I’d invited my parents, David, Marion, and Andrea. I’d extended the invitation to Ari’s oldest brother Dave and his wife Rebecca out of courtesy, but I knew it would be something they would likely pass on. They were always in attendance for major holidays and milestones, but they would always be the last to arrive and the first to leave. Whip smart introverted surgeons, they preferred to mostly avoid family social situations. I never faulted them for it, but Marion often chided them gently to their faces and not so gently behind their backs, placing the blame mostly on Rebecca.

“Oh! It’s so…quaint!” Marion exclaimed as she walked in the house. I could tell she really wanted to say small. Or old. She kissed the air next to my cheek and patted me on the back so lightly I barely felt it.

David brought me in for a big hug. It had been a few months since I’d seen them. I didn’t feel the need to reach out all that often since Brody had continued to work part time at the firm after his internship, maintaining his own connection to his grandparents.

It felt though, like David had missed me.

“David, did you lock the car? I’m not so sure about this neighborhood.” Marion pinched.

I resisted the urge to rub my forehead in frustration. “The neighborhood is perfectly fine, Marion. Nothing to worry about at all.”

“Still, I’d like to leave before it gets dark.” Her eyes darted around outside through the window. I had conveniently forgotten how insufferable this woman could be. It’d been nice.

“That won’t be happening, Mom. It will be dark in less than an hour,” Andrea said.

“Oh! You have a cat!” Marion exclaimed as Minx came sauntering down from upstairs.

“Yes. Her name is Minx. I got her a few months ago.”

“David, do you remember Fred?” Marion turned to me. “When the kids were small, we got the most darling little gray and white kitten. We let Dave name him and that’s what he chose.”

“Aw, did you have to rehome him then, when you found out Ari was allergic?” I asked.

“Oh no! We had that cat until Ari graduated from high school. He passed from old age. Ari wasn’t allergic. What would make you think that?”

“Because he told me he was. That we couldn’t have a cat, or any pet because he was.”

“Oh, I’m sure that’s not true.” Marion dismissed me with a wave of her hand.

David said a warm hello to my parents and asked if he could help get everyone drinks. I walked through the dining room with glasses of white wine for Andrea and Marion and before I rounded the corner to where they were standing in the living room, I overheard their conversation.

“Why wouldn’t she have kept the beautiful furniture she had? Now she’s got all of this, all of these…used things. Second-hand things. I don’t understand.” Marion was trying to be discreet, but not doing a good job of it at all. “It’s all so dated.”

“That’s the point. Shelby loves this retro, vintage stuff. Always has.” Andrea said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that she probably would have wanted to decorate her other house like this all these years. She was just being nice.”

“Well, I don’t get it. Look at this table. It has scuff marks on it,” Marion said.

“Jesus Christ, Mom. Let it go. None of this is a personal reflection on you. It’s not like people in your circle are going around like ‘Oh my God, did you hear? Marion’s daughter in law got her coffee table from a thrift store. ’”

I was grateful to Andrea at that moment. It made me wonder if she’d defended me like that more times than I would ever know. I cleared my throat to announce my presence and gave them their drinks with a smile. “Oh, and if you are going to put these on the coffee table, make sure to use a coaster. Thanks,” I said. Andrea gave me a nod and a smirk as I turned to walk away.

“This is a lovely piece,” my mother said as she stood in front of the art on top of my fireplace mantle after dinner. “I could do without the nudity, of course, but I do like it.” It was a print I’d gotten framed of a nude, red haired woman against a teal background. She was removing a mask with a somber expression to reveal an identical expression on her own face underneath. I connected with it so deeply.

“It’s fine, I suppose,” interjected Marion. “I just really preferred the beautiful wedding picture above the mantle in your other house.” She looked around. “You know, I don’t see any pictures of Aristotle here at all.”

I began nervously wringing my hands, my fingers finding their home settled firmly around my left thumb. I had a feeling this might have proved to be a point of contention with her. So much so, that I almost asked Kendra to bring one or two pictures over to put out. Just for today.

“I understand that since he is gone it must be so painful for you, Shelby. But we can’t erase his memory. Don’t you think Brody needs to see reminders of his father?”

“I get that, Marion…it’s just that?—”

Marion looked around again, this time with a much more determined look in her eyes. I knew right away what she was looking for and not seeing. “Where is the urn?”

“Um…I…uh…” I stammered. I could feel myself beginning to sweat.

“Shelby where are my son’s remains?” she demanded.

“At the restaurant. In the basement.” There. It was out there and there was no going back now.

Marion had a shocked expression on her face I knew would be seared in my memory forever. She was about to learn the truth. At least as much as what wouldn’t kill her.

I unclenched my hands and stood up straight.

“Marion, to be honest, I needed to move on. Not just because Ari died. But because our marriage, our relationship… was difficult. He was not a good man.” I knew that wouldn’t be anywhere near a sufficient explanation, but I had to start somewhere. Ease them in.

“How dare you! How dare you say that about Aristotle! He was a wonderful man. A devoted husband and father. He sacrificed so much, he worked so hard to provide for you and Brody all these years. Doing everything he could to make that restaurant successful for the sake of his family!”

“Marion, stop,” David interrupted. “There was no sacrifice of anything on Ari’s part. We both know I put him through culinary school. Fine. I was happy to do it. I leased the space and my partners and I fronted him the money for the buildout and everything that goes into opening a restaurant. He had vision and he was so excited, I thought I was helping. All with the understanding that he would pay us back.

“Ari was a brilliant chef, and he could charm the pants off a snake,” he continued. “That’s what made The Scorpion so successful. But he was a terrible manager and didn’t care about wasting money. He’d blow through overtime hours for his kitchen staff, working them until they dropped. He’d have an idea for a special feature, spend the money on all kinds of hard-to-get ingredients, then change his mind. All of it would go to waste. He came close to bankruptcy twice. Not to mention the other failed concepts, which I should have known better than to enable. He was my son and I loved him, but he made it very hard for me to like him.” David was like a dam that had been stressed to the point of breaking for years.

Marion looked aghast at her husband speaking such blasphemy about her son. “He was passionate! I loved that about him. He was passionate about his food, and passionate about his family.” She turned to me. “He loved you, Shelby. How can you deny that and just erase him like this? He brought little Brody to our house so often after he was born because you were having such a hard time as a young new mother. He wanted to give you a break and take care of you.”

I took a deep breath. “Do you know why Ari brought Brody to your house so often? Because he couldn’t stand that I was giving attention to anyone but him. He was jealous of his son. His own son! I would beg him not to take him away, but he wouldn’t listen. I’d just sit there and cry until he got back from your house. And then when he got back, it was…worse.” I glanced down at the floor, considering how much of the details to give. “And how he ‘took care of me’ as you put it? Ari was…intense. Physically. In ways that I would never want to explain to his mother or say in front of my parents.”

“I know he had a bit of a temper, but I can’t see him actually laying a hand on anyone.” She didn’t seem to understand what exactly I was implying.

“With what you would consider typical domestic violence, you’re right. He would yell, slam doors, throw things, and he once punched a hole in the wall… but he never lashed out on me like that in the moment. He wasn’t violent…he wouldn’t hurt me,” another breath, “outside of the bedroom.”

It pained me to say it as I could see Marion trying to reconcile it all. Her precious baby boy being a sexual sadist.

“Marion, he was stepping out on Shelby, too.” David said. My head snapped up to stare at him in wide eyed shock. I had no idea anyone knew. He turned to me. “I am a recognizable man, and Milwaukee is a big city, but it can feel like an awful lot like a small town. People had no trouble telling me what my son was up to.”

“I just don’t believe that. Any of it.” Marion said softly. Her wall of denial would not be cracked this evening.

“Ari doesn’t belong anywhere near the pedestal you put him on.” David said to Marion. He turned to me. “Shelby, I’m sorry I didn’t check in on you more throughout the years. I had no idea what was going on with the two of you. If I had known…” he trailed off, his emotions getting the better of him.

“David, none of this was your fault. And I’m working on believing that none of it was my fault either.” I turned to Marion. “You have to understand that I have to move on without all the reminders of him, but I won’t let Brody forget him. I never spoke badly about his father to him, although I can’t honestly say Ari was a good father. Certainly not the father that Brody deserved.” I looked down and then back up at David, my voice cracking. “You have been more of a father to him than Ari ever was. I’m so grateful for that.” Tears filled his eyes, and he brought me in for a hug.

My poor, shocked parents were just sitting there trying to absorb all of this, not knowing what to do or say.

Marion threw up her hands. “I just can’t believe any of this. And everyone is just ganging up on me. Ganging up on Aristotle, and he isn’t even here to defend himself.”

“That doesn’t matter, Mom. Here you are defending him just like you’ve done his entire life,” offered Andrea.

“I just…David, take me home. I can’t be here anymore.”

David gave my back a gentle rub and walked toward his wife. As he helped Marion with her coat, he locked eyes with me and for the first time I fully recognized his pain. His resignation. I knew at that moment that he and I had much more in common than I’d ever realized.

Ari. Marion.

I had the apple. David had the tree.

My parents also decided that the evening was coming to an end, and I began to walk them out. They were so visibly uncomfortable I could feel their wheels turning as they tried to wrap their heads around everything I had said. I suspected anything they would say to try and comfort me would be God-centric and vague. As per usual.

“Shelby, those were some hard things to hear,” said my dad. I held my breath as I considered he might have something heartfelt to say about what his daughter had gone through.

“If only you and Aristotle had continued to go to church with us, it’s likely none of this would have happened.” Unfortunately, no secular empathy was to be had after all, instead, my father was right on cue with his brand of calm yet biting righteous indignation.

It was true that when we started dating, Ari and I went to church regularly with my parents, but it wasn’t as cut and dried as they might have thought. “We only went to church with you because Ari wanted to get in your ‘good graces’ so to speak. He knew we’d be moving fast, and he wanted you not to fight it. Admit it. You felt better about us living together before we got married because we were still ‘on the path.’”

What they never needed to know was that Ari had another ulterior motive. Yes, we’d dutifully go to church with my parents, but he’d always politely decline their invitation to brunch after, which was their tradition. Instead, Ari would take me back to their house and delight in defiling me literally six ways to Sunday in my childhood bedroom. Role playing the ruin of a good Christian girl. I became so conditioned to this ritual that with a just subtle stroke of his pinky along my thigh during the service, he’d have me in a state of desperate want. Fantasizing about him taking me right there on the pew, the echoes of my screams ricocheting through the nave.

My father continued, “I think it’s a good time for you to come back to church on your own, then. A good opportunity for you to get back into God’s grace.”

My mother put her hand gently on my arm. I could see tears filling the bottoms of her eyes as they met mine. Every great once in a while, I could see another version of her, a soul empathetic in her own right, not just an empty channel regurgitating the appropriate verses she’d memorized. Her lips parted, she inhaled, ready to speak. Then, as she was always apt to do before she did or said anything, she looked at my father.

“Yes,” my mother said, redirecting and dutifully agreeing with her husband. “Renewing your relationship with the Lord, unburdening yourself through prayer.”

Ah, yes. Good and baked in right from the start, I’d been primed and ready for a life of subservience. After all, I had learned from the best.

I smiled politely at her. “I unburden myself plenty with my therapist, Mom. And guess what? She talks back.”

Since I’d been honest with everyone else that evening, I got brave and kept going. “You know, shame is a hell of a thing. Honestly, shame is just a hell. I’m finally working my way out of a darkness that has consumed me for over twenty years. I am finding my own version of a relationship with God, but it doesn’t involve going back to church. You’ll just have to trust that I’ll find my way.”

We hugged lightly, awkwardly like we always did, and they made their way out the door.

It was true. I was finding peace through my own version of spirituality—making my way to a light in the darkness.

And forgiveness was my compass.

It wasn’t Ari that I needed to forgive. I’d accepted who he was and who he wasn’t and that was enough.

Who it was that needed and deserved my forgiveness was that young, naive, terrified, nineteen-year-old girl in the bathroom staring at a positive pregnancy test on that cold December morning. I had been blaming her just as much, if not more, than Ari for everything that had happened. When Ari became thrilled at the prospect of using the pregnancy to get what he wanted, why couldn’t she have been strong enough to say what she wanted instead? To stand up for herself. To not get on that fucking train in the first place. I’d been so angry at her, and I needed to let that go.

Find it in myself to forgive her.

Open my heart to love her.

It wasn’t going to be God’s grace that would save me. It was my own.

“God, Shel. I’m so sorry…I wish I’d have known,” Andrea offered. She stayed after everyone had gone to make sure I was okay. “I always knew Ari was a dick, but God.”

“He was your brother. What could I have told you?”

“I know. I get it. But you’ve always felt more like a sister to me than he felt like a brother. And my mom. Jesus. I can’t get over how she acts sometimes. But I’m impressed as hell at the way you stood up to her,” she said.

“It had been a long time coming, but I could never do it when Ari was alive.”

“God, I wish Rebecca would. The way my mother treats her is abhorrent. Like she’s defective. I mean it’s not like it was her fault.”

“Wait, what wasn’t her fault?” I asked, not understanding at all what I was missing.

“That she couldn’t have kids.” She could immediately tell by the shocked look on my face that this was new information. “Oh God, I thought you knew.”

I’d already been blessed with one revelation of a decades old lie tonight, what was one more? “I thought Dave and Rebecca just didn’t want kids. Too busy with their careers. That’s what Ari said.”

Andrea looked at me with wide eyes. “What? No. They tried for years. Long before you came along. She had at least two miscarriages that we knew about, but I suspected there were more. I think after a while, after the way my mother would find a way to blame her, she probably didn’t want to tell us anymore.” She sighed. “That’s why they don’t come to family things all that much. Because of my mom. And…because of you.”

“What? Me? Why me?”

“Well, you can imagine. In the middle of their infertility struggles, here you come along getting accidentally pregnant, like boom. It was too hard for them to be around you and Brody.”

“Oh God.” I frantically searched my brain for anything unintentionally hurtful I may have said over the years not knowing all they had gone through.

“Ari told me Brody was going to be the grandchild they always wanted because no one else was going to have kids. God, why am I so surprised he manipulated me like that? He probably thought I’d be less likely to want to keep the baby if I knew the truth.” I took a deep breath. “I was going to leave him, Andrea.”

“What?”

“The week before he died. I was making plans to leave him.” I hadn’t told anyone this. Not even Kendra.

“Oh my God. The night you came to my house. I just thought you guys had a fight. You didn’t really say much.”

“I know. I just needed a place to go to get some space. To think. If I would have gone to Kendra’s all hell would have broken loose.”

“What happened?” she asked.

I wanted to tell her. Tell someone other than my therapist. But it was hard, especially since I couldn’t get past the fact that it was her brother.

“That night, when he came home, I could tell that something was wrong. He was on edge, much more than usual. I found out later that his new investors had backed out. They’d started talking to people and decided he was too much of a risk. He was furious, pacing back and forth like an animal in a cage. He was unpredictable when he was like that, I never knew if he was just going to start venting or if he was going to try to decompress in…another way.”

Andrea looked at me, blinked slowly and nodded. She was letting me know I could tell her anything.

I continued. “Sometimes he’d come at me. Consume me physically without words or just order me to do things. It was usually easier just to let it happen and when it was over, things would be better. This next part is a little…delicate. And personal.”

“You can tell me, Shelby. It’s okay.”

“After I had Brody, anything…anal…was very uncomfortable. Sometimes excruciatingly painful. My doctor said I had internal hemorrhoids, and it would most likely be something I’d always struggle with. Every time Ari and I tried, we had to abandon it because it wasn’t working for me. He didn’t push the issue, and I was grateful.” I looked up at the ceiling. “Looking back now, he was probably getting that itch scratched somewhere else.”

Andrea nodded.

“That night he was erratic. Out of control. I just let it all happen hoping it would be over soon enough. He practically tore off my clothes and ordered me to lie face down on the bed.”

It was a position I’d become familiar with as the ultimate power play. Sometimes he’d hold my hands behind my back or up over my head and I was helpless to do anything.

“He started to fuck me. In this position, things would…slip out, need to be readjusted. He held my hands up over my head, so when it slipped, he readjusted. And it was in the…wrong place.”

He’d thrusted. Ripped. Seared. Burned. I screamed. “No, Ari! Wait, stop! It hurts!”

He didn’t stop. I kept crying, begging and begging him to stop. But he didn’t stop. The sick son of a bitch continued cruelly wielding his chef’s blade, delivering a pain sharper than any I could have imagined.

Tears spilled onto the bed as he ignored my pleas and continued, completely feral and consumed in his own pleasure.

I could only lie there helpless, whimpering and praying for it to be over.

Finally, he finished. Panting, he whispered in my ear, “You have been keeping this little treasure box from me for almost twenty years, baby. But not anymore,” his words thick and dark, pressing a wax seal firmly onto this nightmare.

My skin crawled so violently I shuddered. He’d somehow managed to morph into an even more evil version of the Ari I’d come to know.

He went to the bathroom to clean up. I just lay there. Paralyzed. I tried sitting on the edge of the bed, but it was too painful. Ari came back from the bathroom, climbed under the covers, content to just drift off to sleep. I got up and started slowly and carefully making my way to the bathroom.

“When I turned on the bathroom light, I saw it. The blood. A trail from the bed. All over the sink. It looked like a goddamn murder scene.” Tears fell. “Andrea, he knew, and he didn’t care.”

“Shelby…oh God, Shelby.”

I nodded.

“He raped you.”

I never gave myself permission to say the word to describe what happened, but yes. He did.

The spell had been broken. I knew there was no coming back from this. I finally saw Ari for the monster he was, and I was ready to be done.

“I came to your house because if I’d gone to Kendra’s she would have demanded I tell her what happened. And then she might have gone to Ari, and she might have done something…regrettable. I needed someone safe, but also someone who wouldn’t ask questions. Just somewhere to take a second to think things through.”

“I’m glad I could be there for you, even if it was just to give you a safe place to land for a minute. I hope you know I would have helped you get out,” Andrea said as she looked at me, her eyes filled with warmth and compassion.

“I know,” I said. “I was also going to ask your dad for help.”

“You know, if you’d have asked me if he would have before tonight, I would have said maybe. Maybe he would have been willing to help a little, mostly for Brody’s sake. But now? After the way he stood up to my mom I know he would have bent over backwards and would have done anything he could. I never knew how he really felt about Ari.”

I sighed, feeling a lightness and a sense of relief, no longer bound and burdened by all the secrets I’d been keeping all these years.