You Love Me(You #3)(87)

“Young lady, I insist that you take a load off and sit.”

He is the patriarchy and I want to smash him and where is RIP Melanda when you need her? You don’t want to sit. You shovel lasagna onto his plate and he passes the plate to me. “That’s way too much for me, MK. Let’s give this to the bookworm, see if he can’t get some meat on those bones!”

You like my body just the way it is and Nomi hesitates in the hallway. “What’s that smell?”

“Casserole,” you say. “You want some?”

She groans. “I’m going to Seattle.”

“Nomi…”

“I wanna see Uncle Don and Aunt Peg.”

I met Don and Peg at the wake. They’re Nomi’s surrogate ex-hippie grandparents and they own a guitar store and you told me about them the day we walked to the diner, the day you almost told me about Phil. You pick at your lip. “But honey, you’ve been over there a lot.”

Nomi is unmoved. “So?”

“So maybe you could hang out here… with us.”

Nomi grabs at the straps on her backpack. “Are they sick of me or something?”

“Nomi, no, I just think it might be nice for you to be at home a little more.”

“Mom,” she says, and we’re all thinking the same thing right now. That the rat died in this house. That Nomi found the rat.

You hug your Meerkat and Shortus scoops a heap of lasagna that’s actually bigger than my portion and you walk Nomi to the door and he chews on the lasagna with his mouth wide open, like a bachelor, like a pig, and you’ll never know that he ate more than me and now you’re outside. There’s another fucking Friend popping by and I don’t blame Nomi for jumping on that ferry every day. You come back glum, holding a cheesecake.

“MK,” Seamus says. “Do you do that tracking thing on E’s phone?”

You dig into the cheesecake, right into the center. We haven’t had sex since Fort Ward and you’re going crazy, too. “Huh?”

“You know,” he says. “Just so you can know where she is.”

You dig your fork into the cheesecake and that’s my girl. “I don’t stalk my daughter, Seamus, if that’s what you mean.”

“Well, you can never be too careful. Do you know what she’s up to? Do you even know that she’s in Seattle?”

Do it, Shortus! Piss her off with your Father Knows Best passive aggression.

You are seething. “Honestly, Seamus, if there’s one thing we did right, it’s Nomi. She’s always liked to get away and spend a night or two with Peggy and Don.”

He runs his paws over his Cooley Hardware shirt and adjusts his Cooley Hardware hat and how was I ever “friends” with this guy? “I’m just trying to help, MK. My shop’s covered. I got a workout in this morning… so it’s no skin off my back if you want me to see where she’s at.”

You just lost your husband and he makes it all about him as if he’s the saint and you pat his arm. “I appreciate it, but we’re fine.”

I might spit up my lasagna and he pats your arm back. “I know you are, MK.”

“Honestly, I don’t blame her for getting away. It’s been like Grand Central in here and the memories…”

And it really is Grand Fucking Central because there’s a dog barking and another intruder. You jump out of your chair to greet the latest Friend and lo and behold it’s the fecal-eyed monster mommy. Finally, we are properly introduced and her hand is a dead fish and her yellow Lab still loves me and see that, Mary Kay? Dogs know good people.

Fecal-Eyed Nancy is fresh from a hike and she can’t stay long and you offer her cheesecake and she makes a face, as if you have cooties, as if the widow doesn’t have a right to stick a fork in her own cheesecake.

Fecal Eyes repeats herself—We just popped by, I can’t stay—and you clear a chair for her and she sits. “Should I ask or should I leave it alone?”

The dog rests her head on my lap. I pet her and you sigh. “I haven’t heard from her,” you say. “But like I told you, we had a falling-out.”

Shortus turns his Cooley Hardware hat backwards. “Oh man,” he says. “I didn’t know how to tell ya.”

All eyes on Shortus, just like he wants, except for the dog, who only has eyes for me. You sip your coffee. “Just say it. Have you talked to her?”

“Yes,” he says. “Melanda called me a few days ago.”

Fecal Eyes balks and you balk too and no she fucking didn’t. She’s dead. There are rumors about her because this is an island and even at the wake, I heard a couple people whispering that Melanda had an affair with a student but I don’t care about that. Melanda is dead and dead women don’t talk on the phone. Alas, Seamus wants attention, he wants to feel special, and pretending to be a conduit to your friend Melanda is one way to get it.

Fecal Eyes picks at the cheesecake and this is what she came for: gossip. “Unbelievable.”

Shortus scratches the logo on his shirt. “She asked me to tell you and Nomi that she sends her love.”

You snort and do a good impression of her. “How nice.”

“I know,” he says. “She would have come back, but you know how it is. Everyone’s talking about her ‘inappropriate behavior’ with that kid at school… She didn’t want to steal the spotlight.”