Part 21 (1/2)
”I was thinking we could go to dinner tonight. There are so many amazing restaurants here,” I tell him. He glances over at me.
”Whatever you want,” he shrugs. I let out a deep frustrated breath and head into my bedroom. I pick up my phone and call Angela. Last week she finished her thesis and went on vacation to the Bahamas to celebrate.
”Hey hon!” she says enthusiastically.
”Hi. What are you up to?” I ask her innocently.
”Nothing much, I've been watching a marathon of Snapped mostly,” she chuckles.
”A whole marathon? Isn't that kind of depressing?”
”Yeah, I guess it is,” she admits.
”Well, I have the perfect way to bring some suns.h.i.+ne into your life,” I laugh.
”And how would you do that?” she says cautiously.
”By getting Caylen for the weekend,” I say optimistically.
”Really? Of course I can. What do you have planned...How are things, is he still acting like he's from The Walking Dead?”
”Pretty much. I talked to Helen though and she says that I should try to snap him out of it in so many words,”
”And how are you supposed to do that?” she chuckles.
”I have a couple of ideas, but as long as Caylen is here I don't know how well I can implement them,” I admit.
”Hmmm. You must tell me how this goes,” she chuckles. ”Anyhow. Yeah I'm in for the weekend. You can bring her whenever you're ready.”
”Great. I'll be over in like an hour and a half if that's okay.”
After I've packed up Caylen's things for the weekend I scoop her in my arms off the living room floor. Chris looks at me curiously as I get her dressed, but doesn't say anything.
”Are you excited to stay with Aunt Angie this weekend Princess?” I ask Caylen. I glance over at Chris. He rises from his seat and walks toward us. He kisses Caylen on the forehead and heads upstairs. I don't even have to guess. When I get back he'll be in the guest room playing his guitar with the door shut. It only takes me about fifteen minutes to make it over to Angela's. When we arrive she quickly buzzes us and I make the trek up the stairs to her apartment.
”Hi Princess!!” she squeals in excitement, taking Caylen from my arms.
”What's up Mama?” she says, all of her attention on Caylen.
”I need to start back working out. Your stairs almost killed me,” I say, catching my breath.
”Are you ready for fun with Auntie Angie?” she coos, taking off Caylen's coat.
”She should be asleep in the next hour or so,” I tell her.
”No worries, if she's not I have a whole night of fun things planned for us. Now what about you and the hubby?” she asks playfully.
”I am going to try to break him out of this trance that he's fallen into,” I shrug.
”I really miss him. I miss both of them as crazy as it sounds,” I chuckle.
”They or he? He's in there, Lauren. If he wasn't he wouldn't be sitting at home with you and Caylen,” she says taking a seat on her sofa and patting the cus.h.i.+on next to her. I plop down next to her and watch as she switches the TV from Lifetime to Nick Jr.
”I thought for some reason knowing whatever happened that caused his condition would make things better, instead it made things worse.”
”One of the things that's interesting about DID is how it's a mechanism with coping with, tragedy, pain, loss. When you think about it, we all dissociate when we don't want to feel. We deflect. Now we don't necessarily do it to the extent of those who have the disorder but when you think about it we're all searching for a form of it, whether it's drinking, using drugs or even shopping.”
”I guess you're right,” I say, mulling over her words.
When I make it home, the living room is as empty as I expected it to be. As I head up the stairs, sure enough I can hear the sound of the guitar being played. I stand next to the door and listen for a couple of minutes, trying to figure out my next move.
”Make him feel something,” I say softly, reminding myself of Helen's words. I have been doing the exact opposite since we arrived. I open the door and he stops playing.
”You don't have to stop on my account,” I tell him playfully.
”I was finis.h.i.+ng up anyway,” he says as he starts to put the guitar away.
”I wish you wouldn't treat me like this,” I tell him, stepping in front of him.
”How am I treating you?” he asks, closing up his guitar case.
”Like I'm a stranger, or a roommate you tolerate. I know you're hurting, I just wish you'd let me help you. That you'd let me in,” I tell him, grabbing his hand.
”I'm not hurting. Everything is fi-,”
”Everything is not fine! Stop saying that. You are walking around like a zombie! I don't even know who you are, anymore” I plead with him.
”Well that makes two of us,” he says, walking past me and heading downstairs.
I follow behind him.
”So that's it. You're going to be like this forever? Not talking, keeping everything bottled up, acting like I don't exist?” I ask him angrily.
”You're going to let him ruin everything? Stop living your life based on a mistake he made. How can you let anyone have that much power over you?” I shout at him and he stops in his tracks and turns to face me.
She said to make him feel something.
Well here goes.
”Cal would never let him do that. He'd never let anyone else's actions dictate his life or the decisions that he makes,” I say tightly, meeting his stare, which has gone from indifferent to intense in the span of a sentence. His eyes squint at me.
”You don't think he would, do you?” he says, a smug grin on his face.
”No.” I tell him adamantly.
He chuckles as if he's in on a joke I'm not aware of.
”So you laugh now?” I ask him sarcastically.