14. Bird in a Cage

Bird in a Cage

M ara

Olivia woke up early Thursday morning, excited about going to the animal shelter. The whole week had been a write-off as far as school was concerned, but the social stuff was just as important, more so, or so I kept telling myself. I was ecstatically happy she wasn’t going to miss today.

“Today, I am working with the birds. It is not permissible to touch anything with your bare hands. I am not allowed to handle the birds, but today I get to assist the bird handler.”

“Wow, Livvy!” This was big news. “I did not know that! You must be so excited!”

Olivia loved anything with wings.

“I am. I love birds, I love wings! Did you know a bird’s wing has joints just like our arms?”

She went on to explain the correlation of joints, contorting her arms and shoulders, showing me how birds fly. I’d heard this more times than I could count.

“I did know that because a smart little birdy told me.”

“Mommy, you know I’m not a real bird, right?”

She was growing up, but in some ways, she still seemed so much younger than her years. Her ability to ascertain what others might be thinking in any given situation had improved a lot, but it was still a bit foreign to her. In a way, it was a blessing, her not having to grow up so fast. She got to be a child for a bit longer than her peers. To be fair, when she was younger, she suffered so badly from sensory meltdowns and communication difficulties while her peers were playing that she deserved the extended childhood.

She flew around the room a few more times, then limited the flight to her hands, contorting her fingers to imitate a bird, and she watched her hand in flight all the way to the bathroom to take her shower.

Bex came and picked her up at twelve-thirty. It was always uncomfortably quiet in the house when Olivia first left. Scarily quiet. Weird how uncomfortable it made me. I went to turn on my music, but thought to call my mother first, talk to someone for a bit.

“Hello?”

“Hi, mom.”

“Mara.”

Hmm, her tone was dry, I wasn’t sure what to make of it. While I was still thinking, she spoke.

“Well, you called me, say something.”

“What?” I asked stupidly.

“Isn’t that what you said to me on Wednesday? I called you, so I should speak?”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” I was considering the possibility that she might have had a stroke when she explained.

“I called you Wednesday, and I said you were not saying anything, and you said that I called you, so I should be the one to talk.”

I remembered now. Vividly. I sighed.

“Alright, Mom, I called to see if you wanted to confirm for tomorrow.”

“Oh.” She paused. “Well, this morning I went to Abby’s with the girls, you know how Abby is, always wanting to host? Well, finally we found a day where we could all make it. Anyway, we went there for brunch, and I found out that Abby’s dishes are all mismatched! She says she collected them from all over the world back when she used to travel. Looked to me like she went to Value Village and picked up somebody’s leftovers!” She tittered. “I offered to give her my extra set for when she has company, and she said she’s ‘quite happy with what I have’.”

She imitated Abby using an irritatingly high, falsetto voice.

“Maybe she is. Probably each one is attached to a memory.”

“Maybe. I’d like to go on vacation.”

“Yeah? Where would you like to go?”

“I’m looking at going on a cruise.”

“Nice, Mom! That would be so nice for you!”

“Yes,” she purred. “I’ve been talking to the girls about it. We might do it as a seniors’ trip.”

I was pleased for her. “I think that would be good for you, lots of fun.”

Whatever I thought about her, she had lots of friends, well, except for poor Abby. Not sure what was going on there. She shouldn’t be jealous, but she surely sounded it.

“I think so, too. You and Zale should go on a trip. I’m sorry, but I couldn’t possibly take Olivia for a full week. I mean, maybe I could, but I do have commitments, you know.”

“That’s okay, Mom, I know that. ”

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t, Mara, I just said I wasn’t sure.”

“It’s no problem, Mom. First, I didn’t ask. Second, we’re not planning a trip anytime soon.”

“Is it money? I could lend you some money. You need to look after your marriage.”

I regretted making the call. I couldn’t for the life of me remember why it seemed like a good idea in the first place.

“No, Mom, we don’t have money problems.”

“And? Your marriage? How are things with Zale? He seemed quiet.”

Giddy up heart rate.

“He’s always quiet. Things are fine, things are good. We’re happy. We’re not newlyweds anymore…” I petered off, knowing I’d revealed too much.

“Oh, well, don’t let that become a problem…” she laughed.

I cut her off. “There is no problem. We are not newlyweds anymore; we’ve ironed out all the bumps. Things are smooth, life is good.”

I sat down, pinching the bridge of my nose between my eyes.

“Well, that’s good. I wouldn’t want you to be alone like your sister. But you’re not self-centered like she is, so it’s not likely to happen.”

“I’ll talk to you later, Mom. ”

“Don’t get huffy, Mara. It’s just a comment.”

“I’ll talk to you later.”

“It’s the truth!”

“I’ll talk to you later.”

“Fine! I hope you have a good day!”

It didn’t sound like a sincere wish, but I thanked her anyway and got off the phone.

I sat bent over my knees, the heels of my hands pressed against my eyes.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Repeat.

The quiet crept back in. I cranked up my music, set the alarm for the house, and finished my manuscript.

The time passed quickly. Surprisingly, given the lack of sleep, I was not sleepy. Tired, but not sleepy. I got a text from Bex telling me they were back on the road and would be here in fifteen minutes. I disengaged the security system and sat on the couch with my book to wait.

These minutes, the ones where Olivia was in the car, were the worst for me. Terrible things do happen, and no one gets a free pass through life. I was terrified that something would happen to Olivia .

I couldn’t concentrate on reading, so I played a game on my phone and before I knew it, she was home. I met them at the door. Olivia was not quite as enamored with the birds as she was before she left.

‘Too loud, Mommy,’ was her overall assessment, and she retreated quickly to the sunroom to decompress.

I looked at Bex. “It didn’t go well today?”

“No, no, it did, she did great. Willa watched over her because she was concerned about the noise levels, and she offered to take her to see the pocket pets instead, but Olivia wanted to stay.” Bex paused. “Saying that, I would not be surprised if she decided to forego the birds next time and,” she pursed her lips in apology, “she’s probably way over stimulated.”

I twisted my mouth to the side, thinking. “Hmm. Still. It’s good that she tries new things.”

Bex nodded. “It is. She gave Willa her card today, too.”

“Oh, that’s good. I’m glad she didn’t forget. Thank you, Bex. It means the world to me that you do this with her.”

“My pleasure, Merry, really.”

She continued to stand there, chewing her lip.

“Is something wrong, Bex?”

“I don’t know, Mara, is something wrong?”

Oh, God, she knows. My heart stuttered and my belly plummeted to the floor .

“W-what do you mean?” I stammered.

“You heard from the doctor?”

“I did.” I nodded once, sharply.

The screaming in my head got louder. She knows, she knows, she knows.

“I asked Willa about it today when I saw her, she told me to talk to you when I dropped Olivia home.”

Right, Willa. That’s what this is about.

I gathered my thoughts. I raised my hand to wave off her concern and realized it was shaking. I tucked it into my pocket, tried to remember what it was exactly that I’d told Willa, but I couldn’t remember the term. I took a deep breath, settled, and it came back to me.

“He told me I have something called Persistent Depressive Disorder. It’s like a continual, low-level sadness. No medications for it, but he is sending me for counselling.”

She nodded, her eyes on me assessing. I looked away.

“How are you feeling about that?”

That part, not terrible. The other, awful.

“Not terrible,” I shrugged.

“Maybe you can make your therapy appointments on Thursdays. I’m happy to continue with Olivia for as long as she wants to continue. If she gets sick of the animal shelter, she and I can do something else, and I’ll volunteer at the shelter on another day.”

I blew out a relieved breath. “I’ll do that. Thank you.”

I felt bad for lying to her. Is it lying if it’s a lie of omission? Yes, yes it is. I’d already been over that argument with myself.

I spoke hurriedly, “There’s some more stuff but I’m not ready to talk about it yet. I don’t know if I told Willa that part. I was kind of rattled when I got home.”

“That’s okay, Merry,” she spoke gently. “When you’re ready to talk, I’m ready to listen.”

I couldn’t meet her eyes, but I reached for her, and she hugged me tightly. I clung to her for just a second, wishing I could unload on her, but fear of what she’d think, shame for what I was, and the fact that I hadn’t yet told Zale held me back. I let her go.

She looked at me closely. “I’m here, Mara, always.”

I took a deep breath, pasted on a smile. “I know, Bex. I thank God for you in my life.”

We confirmed our shopping plans for Saturday, she left, and I went to get my little bird a snack and to see if she wanted to talk.

She didn’t. She just wanted to lean up against me on the couch while she drew on her iPad. I sat with her, watching the miracle Zale and I created sketch a near perfect depiction of a tiny, detailed bird in a cage .

Zale worked late. Olivia was in bed and asleep by the time he got home at eight o’clock. He looked tired but scattered. He came over to the couch where I was reading and gave me a kiss that didn’t seem to connect. He barely met my eyes. A niggling doubt entered my mind. I tried to forcefully push it away. Still, it persisted, and I had to ask.

“Who were you working with tonight?” I asked, watching to see how he would react.

Suddenly his gaze swung my way, meeting my eyes. He looked surprised.

“The whole team was there. It’s been the whole team about half of the time.”

He looked uncomfortable. A lie of omission is still a lie. My chest got tight. I felt my face go weirdly numb.

“And the other half of the time?” I asked quietly.

“It varies, Mara, depending on who has what going on. Why are you so suspicious?” he snapped.

“Why are you so uncomfortable?” I shot back.

“You’re making me uncomfortable!” he retorted, exasperated, pulling at his tie to loosen it.

“How?” I could feel the monster, scratching and clawing at me from the inside. “All I did was ask you a simple question, Zale, who are you working late with all these nights? ”

I could feel the ugliness in my face, flushed with anger, my skin tight, my lips rolled back away from my teeth. I had to stand, my lungs squeezed, and I wheezed, clutching my chest, the morning star swollen, heavy, seeking retribution, for my sins or his, I didn't know.

He reached for me, alarmed. “Mara…”

I slapped his hand away, and paced, my hands going to my hair, pulling it back in a ponytail with my hands.

I turned, growled through gritted teeth, “Who?”

He looked alarmed, his alarm sharpened my shame, my shame fed my anger, and I pulled. Hard.

“Mara, God, Mara, I’ll tell you, I’ll tell you.” He held out his hands, placating me.

Tears stung my eyes, I hissed. “Tell me? You’ll tell me? What are you going to tell me?”

“Nothing bad, baby. Fuck! Sit down.”

I paced. Sucked in a breath.

“Don’t you tell me to sit down! You fucking tell me what you need to tell me!” I gritted out.

He held out his hands, palms down. “There are three teams. Sometimes they come in all together, sometimes in pairs or groups of three. Never anyone by themselves with me. I promise. ”

“Why is this worth hiding?” My voice sounded as tight as my throat felt.

“It’s not.”

“Do you go in the car with anybody?”

“Never.”

I blew out a shaky breath, watched his face, trying to find the missing piece, and assessed him as he steadily held my gaze.

Finally, my voice broke, “Why couldn’t you just say that?”

He wrapped his hand around the back of his neck, looked at me from beneath his brow, and blew out his own breath. “I was worried you would overreact.”

“But why? What is it that made you think I’d overreact? Are you guilty of something? Only guilty people hide things!”

I did not miss the irony of this statement, but I was hiding something because I was guilty. My reasoning was sound.

“No,” he replied firmly, with a strong shake of his head. “Absolutely not.”

I continued to pace, rolled my hands into fists. “What is it that you worried would make me overreact?”

“Half of the people on the teams are women, and I didn’t want you to worry. And honestly?” He threw out an arm toward me. “I didn’t want to put up with the inquisition. ”

“There wouldn’t have been a fucking inquisition if you didn’t hide shit!”

He acquiesced. “I’m sorry for that, I am. There’s nothing to hide. I was worried you’d overreact. I didn’t want to bring your attention to the fact that I work with as many women as I do men, and I tried to avoid it. I am sorry. You picked up on my discomfort, but it’s just that, nothing else.”

I didn’t know what to believe. The tyrant came down on me hard.

You must take care of your marriage, but you don’t do anything, do you? He doesn’t want you; he’s never wanted you. You were the one who pushed, you chased him, he didn’t chase you, he has never chased you.

I had no rebuttal.

My faith was shaken.

I knew in my head that the monster had awakened. I also knew from hard-earned experience that even though the feelings might not lead to truth, they were all too real and could cause damage. I couldn’t take the chance in dismissing them. I had to stay vigilant. I didn’t want to be surprised.

“Mara, baby, nothing bad is going on. I promise.”

I stopped moving, made a decision, one that would release me from this sick anticipation, release him from the mess that was me. My conscience screamed ‘guilty’ for my own lie of omission. I looked at him, made my offer .

“You can leave, there won’t be any repercussions. I won’t fight you. Not for anything. You can leave and I'll share it all, even Olivia…” My voice broke on a sharp sob, and I pushed the heels of my hands into my eyes.

Two long strides brought him to my side. He bent and pulled me into his arms, his hands busily smoothing up and down my back, his face nuzzling into my neck.

“Baby, baby, I’m not going anywhere. I’m never going anywhere. Silly. Silly, silly, pain in my ass.”

I wrapped my arms around his back and clung to him. My chest hurt. My breath lodged in my throat, and I could not get enough air. He rubbed my back with one hand, the other held me close.

Slowly, I calmed, and with the calm came the shame, and the shame swirled with confusion, not knowing if I should demand further apology or offer one.

“I’m sorry, Mara. I shouldn’t have tried to hide anything. I made it worse by trying to make it better.”

“I’m sorry, too.”

“What are you sorry about?”

For being a bunny boiler.

“Just for being stupidly me.”

He laughed. “You’re not stupid, you’re smart. You noticed my discomfort before I did. ”

I’d calmed but I kept my face averted, as shamed as I was to cause him discomfort for the terrible sin of going to work and doing his job, my brain could not let any stone go unturned.

“Zee, is there someone else you’re interested in? Are you attracted to someone on one of your teams?”

He held me tighter. “No, absolutely not.”

“Has anyone expressed an interest in you?”

“No. They are professionals, they are there to work, not flirt. Most of them, men and women, are married or committed. Most have kids. There’s no bullshit.”

My shoulders dropped, the spikes receded though the wounds still bled, and the claws of the beast retracted, releasing me temporarily from its grip.