Read What Brings Me to You Online
Authors: Loralee Abercrombie
What Brings Me to You (19 page)
I should've kept that promise
Instead I kept at it. Furiously. It was my last connection to her, whether she was reading them or not it was the only thing I could think to do to stay tied to her. Classes started and I was neck deep in organic chemistry but any spare moment I got I'd write to her. I wrote to her while I ate my lunch, I wrote to her before I went to bed, several times falling asleep with the pen and paper in my hand. While I was driving or in the shower I'd think of things to tell her. Ways to say I was sorry. Ways to get her back. Labor day came two weeks into the semester and I had a brief respite from my grueling schedule. Instead of studying, instead of parties, I locked myself in my room and I wrote to her. I wrote her a six page letter. six. Fucking. Pages. I was a lunatic; I see that now, but at the time all I could do was write. I told her nothing that I hadn't said in the previous God knows how many letters but I just said more of it. I told her I was doing what she told me to do and going pre-med. Told her about my classes down to the minutest detail. How I loved my classes and thanked her profusely for pushing me to do it. Told her I just knew that I'd never ever be bored being a doctor and swore to her I'd be the best damn doctor the world had ever seen and garbage like that. That everything that I did was for her and because of her. I begged her to be proud of me. I told her how beautiful she was to me, every last inch of her. How I even fantasized about her earlobes. How, even though we'd been separated for weeks, I couldn't get her out of my mind. How desperate I was to be near her, to take in her scent, hear her voice, touch her, kiss her. I apologized again and again for anything that I did to cause her pain. Told her I knew I wasn't worthy of her but that I needed her. That I was grateful and unworthy to receive her for her love and her friendship. I told her that, in my eyes, she was a saint and savior. I told her she'd changed me. I was frantically writing, my mind moving faster than my hand. So fast I couldn't keep up. When I read it back I couldn't believe what was there. When I was done and read it back I was surprised how I finished and had to read it twice to be sure.
Charley, you made me better. You made me see the man I can be which, for as much as I love her, even my mother couldn’t do. While mom let me feel around in the dark to find my way, you held my hand and guided me toward the light. Please come back to me, baby. You’re my light. I need you to be able to see.
What the hell!? I read it over and over again. I read it until my eyes crossed not understanding how it got there. I didn't remember writing it. Worse, I didn't realize it was true until it was there in black and white in my own handwriting. Maybe I didn't have to send it. I could've written it and sealed it in a box in the back of my closet and maybe that would've been enough to satiate the compulsion to put it all out there. Maybe. I wouldn't know because I sealed it stamped it and sent it on its way without hesitation.
Three days later I was leaving campus after my first O-Chem quiz totally glazed over because the thing was an absolute bitch, something I knew I'd have to write to Charley later. I'd just left Plant hall, the main building, and was crossing the street to the parking lot when I turned on my phone and noticed three missed calls. two from an unknown number and one from her. Charley's house number.
She called.
I stopped, feet planted in the cobble stone street of the campus. I had to have been holding up traffic but I couldn't do anything about it.
My Charley.
I didn't know what to do. Rather I did but couldn't bring myself to do it. I wanted so badly writing those letters to see her, to hear her voice and now that she'd given me the chance. But I didn’t plan what to do if she did. I didn't know how to respond. The only thing that snapped me out of it was my phone ringing.
Unknown number.
"Maybe it's her," I thought. Maybe she got a cell or is calling from her dorm. I picked up on the second ring.
"Yello?"
"Teddy?"
Charley!
It was her. The timbre of her voice was unmistakable.
Charley. My Charley.
After nearly five weeks of writing her, holding my breath that she'd respond, at hearing her voice I felt a my entire body relax for the first time since we'd parted. I was reveling in the sound of her voice and her breathing. It was her. She'd come back to me. I must have paused too long because she said again, “Teddy?"
That's when it all came out in one breath like I'd uncorked my lungs. It didn't matter I was standing in the middle of a busy street on campus.
"Charley, oh God, baby! Thank you for calling. God, I'm so sorry Charley! God, I love you baby please see me please --" I was going to say more when she cut me off and what she said made my body go rigid.
"Teddy, this is Iris. Iris Feinman. Charley's mother."
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Charley
I was assigned one of the older, traditional style dorms. That meant, I didn't have my own bathroom but I could walk to my classes. When I'd arrived at my room, I stood back and took in the space that would be my home for ten months. Even though my dorm was pretty similar to my "prison cell" at Paul's house (save the fact I had to share it with someone else), and even though I was totally and utterly alone (without family to support me or friends to miss) I, honestly, couldn't have been happier. I felt light, and that lightness came with the realization that for the first time in my life I could just be who I am without any shame.
My roommate, Kelsey James (I knew from the roommate information the University sent) had already set all of her things up but she wasn't there when I arrived. Kelsey had already claimed the bed underneath the window and the desk in its own little nook opposite to it. That was fine by me, I was happy to have my desk under the window since I didn't have a neat little turquoise desk lamp like she did. Before that moment I didn't really know anything about her, but seeing her things I knew right away that we were opposites. She'd decked out her bed and desk with a coordinating Turquoise and white hibiscus print. Even the pencils, perfectly arranged in the cup on her desk, had the pattern. Looking at her things, perfectly arranged, her bed perfectly made, I could picture the scene; her parents, both wearing pastel colored polo shirts and cardigans wrapped around their shoulders, helping her to move in and place everything neatly in their separate little boxes. Mom bravely trying to stifle a sob while dad gets glassy eyed and calls her his precious little girl. I was immediately jealous of her and had a horrible feeling we wouldn't get along. She'd take one look at my worn, mismatched bedding and request a new roommate.
Unlike Kelsey, or the Kelsey I'd made up in my mind, I had no one to help me move in. I spent twenty minutes lugging my belongings up to the room which were in giant black garbage bags. Nothing I had was close to coordinated. My bedding consisted of things I found at the flea market because that was all I could afford. It wasn't the nicest stuff but it was at least clean -I made sure of that. The nicest things I had were things that Teddy had bought for me.
I wanted to throw it all out the window after I'd seen him last. To cut it all in thin strips, dip it in gasoline, light it and watch it all go up in flames. I wanted to so badly but I couldn't because, unfortunately, they were things I desperately needed, even down to underwear. Knowing that, I was even more humiliated and upset with myself for becoming vulnerable enough to let him in and try to care for me.
Stupid
. Regardless, I couldn't get rid of the laptop because dammit if he wasn't right how bad I'd need it. Therefore, I couldn't get rid of the bag either. When I'd finished arranging my things as neatly as possible I sat on my bed with the bag and pulled out the letters.
When the letters started coming I went through the whole gamut of emotion. It was hard at first, reading his apologies and how unhappy he was, to remember why I'd left in the first place. Instinctively my hand went to my lips, remembering the last time he’d touched them and how my body reacted. But I realized too soon that the letters were words. Empty promises that he wouldn't act on. I'd already had so much disappointment in my life and Teddy had already let me down twice. I knew letting him back in for a third time would be my undoing. I was on my way to start a new life; a life I could be proud of, a life that was truly mine to live.
I did read his letters, though after a while I could predict what they'd say, but I never responded. I started reading them because I was curious, I kept reading them because, knowing I'd never go back to him meant also knowing I'd probably be alone for a long time, if not the rest of my life. I’d determined never to allow myself to get as carried away with a man as I’d gotten with Teddy. The memory of his touch did strange thigns to my mind. I’d been drunk once and it was similar to that. Completely uninhibited. Completely unrestrained. That was the kind of shit that got people in trouble and I just didn’t have time for it. Besides, the entire relationship was one sided. None of what we had was real. I realized it all too late, but the pretending was more than I'd ever gotten from anyone in my life and sure ever would. After my brothers and Paul, my biological father, my mother, Teddy, I couldn't allow anyone else in to hurt me. So when I was feeling lonely, which was a lot, I'd pull out those letters and read, twirling the L-O-V-E pendant around my neck like it was a rosary bead, remembering. Imagining. Before I'd left Paul's house for, hopefully, the last time late that August I waited for the mail knowing there'd be a letter from Teddy and knowing it'd be the last one I'd read. I thought about rerouting my mail to campus, but I couldn't do it. I had to let him go. I didn't give a shit if Paul found the letters once I was gone -he couldn't hurt me anymore anyway.
*****
"Kelsey?" I ask. There's a flash of something across her face that I can't read and then an enormous smile followed by a boob crushing hug.
"Charlotte! It's so good to meet you." She had her arms wrapped around me so tightly that I thought I was going to pass out. She let me go right before I did, thank god. I straightened my, God knows what because all I was wearing was a hoodie and jeans, cleared my throat and mumbled, "Um-hm. I go by Charley."
"Charley, that's fun!" Kelsey was tall and all parallel lines. I found out later that she was at USF on a volleyball scholarship. I opened the door wider and made way for her and her parents into the small room. "I forgot my key. I'm probably going to do that a lot."
"Don't let her off the hook all the time, Charley!" bellowed her dad. "Just let her sit out in the hall without it. Teach her a lesson." He was so deadpan I wasn't sure if he was teasing when her mother began a breathy chuckle.
"Todd, don't give Charley any ideas. I know! I'll get you a cute little doormat that you can keep the key under." I climbed back onto my bed and sat cross legged while her dad sat in her desk chair, her mom on her bed and Kelsey opted to stand and fidget. I learned quickly that Kelsey was a world-class fidgeter.
"I hope you don't mind I claimed this side of the room," she said hesitantly and I had a feeling that if I said I did mind she'd immediately set to work moving her things.
"It's not a problem."
"Oh good," she breathed.
"See honey, I told you she wouldn't mind," chimed in her mother. "You worry too much. Now, Charley, tell us a little about you!"
I found out she and her boyfriend were living in the dorm. Colin, as I'd come to find out, lived one floor below us in the men's wing. That night, I ended up telling her it was okay to give Colin a spare key to our room in case she got locked out and I wasn't around. She, and her parents, were very grateful to me for this and thanked me to the point that I started to get uncomfortable. It turned out not even to be necessary, because if she forgot her key to our room, she'd just stay the night in his.
It was so hard not to be jealous of Kelsey, no matter difficult she made it. She was beautiful without being snotty, self-assured without being annoying, and normal without being high and mighty. She was the most normal person I’d ever spent any time with. She and her entire family were all so
nice.
It felt alien. It felt like watching a ginger version of
The Brady Bunch
. There was no awkwardness around them ever because they were genuinely
nice
people and most of the time being with her made me feel like a complete and utter bitch for judging not just them but anyone. I couldn’t picture her even comprehending the level of dysfunction I’d experienced in my life because she had the most typical nuclear family I’d ever encountered firsthand. It was novel to me that they seemed to actually
like
eachother. They had these silly inside jokes and when Kelsey laughed it wasn’t forced.
They all had easy, genuine smiles when they asked me about my life even though I gave purposely vague answers. Mr. James or Todd as he asked me to call him, even made me laugh a couple of times. Even though they were from the Midwest, Kelsey didn't ask me about my brown-ness and truly didn't seem to be thrown off by it. They weren't wealthy people but had saved up money from before Kelsey was born for her college/wedding fund, not to mention she had her scholarship. Kelsey was sweet and energetic and had a positive outlook on things which for me was refreshing. I wished some days I was more like her. As I imagined, an hour later when her parents got up to leave, her mother was bravely trying not to sob and her father called her "angel" instead of precious. It was sweet and sickening and I mentally kicked myself for being such a jaded, cynical bitch.
Couple of weeks into classes I was beginning to feel pretty low. It's not like I lacked for potential friends or people to hang out with. There were tons of freshmen in our building who I could see myself getting to know. Kelsey and Colin were nice enough to invite me out with them a few times though I never accepted. I could've decided to go to any of the mixers, barbeques, keggers that were going on at any given moment, but none of it ever felt right. I'm not sure if it was nature or nurture that made me such a loner. Probably both, but I was content to lie on my bed, study and read Teddy's letters.
I was in the middle of just that when Kelsey came in from class one afternoon. I'd learned to keep the door propped open when I was home and dressed in case she didn't have her key. She threw her long body onto her bed face first and the way her legs hung off the side it looked like they went on forever.
"Colin and I are going to get married," she said without any preamble.
"When?"
"I don't know, someday. After we graduate."
"Oh. That's nice." Because what else was I supposed to say? I mean I liked Kelsey and we probably knew more about each other than most by sheer virtue of the fact we lived together but we weren't at sharing emotional stuff yet. I wasn't so sure I'd ever get there.
"Yeah, it is. I love him, ya know?"
"Yeah, I can see that,” and I could. Besides the fact that his, relatively attractive mug was plastered all over her side of the room, they were almost always together. They weren’t even really seen as two separate people, they were a unit. A package deal.
"Do you have a boyfriend?" Is that what the sharing was about? Because she's nosy?
"No."
"Then who are those letters from? I see you read them a lot, whoever they're from must be pretty special to you." Caught.
"He's just a friend."
"Why doesn't he just call?"
"What's wrong with letters?"
"Nothing, I guess it's just so...old fashioned. And not the good kind of old fashioned. It's the kitschy kind of old fashioned. Don't you think?"
"Not really."
“Oh well. I've got to go to practice. You'll be here when I get back, right?”
“You know I will,” I said feigning a smile.
“Good because I think I lost my key in Colin's room somewhere. I'll probably never find it. Housing is making me another one but it won't be ready until tomorrow.” She whirled out of the room with her gym bag and shut the door behind her.
Three minutes after she disappeared she was knocking on the door again. I groaned rolled out of bed, and flung the door open; ready to chastise her for shutting it in the first place. Except it wasn't her at the door.
It was my mom.
