reason.
I finally needed to unlock the mystery. Mom had the key. She always did.
“Oh Marion, it’s a slippery slope. You must be very careful. They nurture the belief that you can’t live without them. It’s a lie designed to keep you dependent and scared of being alone. Never be afraid of that. You must always be your own best friend, you hear me?” I nodded, rapt. “There are billions of people on the planet — literally billions! You don’t have to be alone unless you want to. And you can and should be with someone who makes you feel good about yourself, and vice versa.”
“I’ll get rid of him the first time he hurts my feelings!”
Mom paused to stare at me. “Oh honey, that’s not good either,” she frowned, trying to be more clear, and leaning against her bedroom wall where I’d cornered her before a night out with Dad. “If you did that, you’d be alone for life. That’s not what I meant. It’s not about simply hurting your feelings. Everyone will do that at some point or another — your friends, your teachers, your boyfriends, even your father and I — because people are flawed. And the man you fall in love with will be flawed, too. As will you be! Your boyfriend, your future husband, they can’t know what you need all the time, and they have needs of their own. What I’m talking about is more insidious than that. I’m talking about the type of guy who will pick at you until you’re no longer you, who will tell you you’re crazy when you know you’re not…Oh, you know what? This is a perfect story. Sit down.”
I lowered myself to her bed, eyes locked on my beautiful mother all dressed up for date-night. She sat with me, placing her hand on my bony knee. I’d just begun to grow taller, puberty gaining fast. Thank God.
“Marion, when I was younger, I was obsessed with Andy Warhol. Not just his art, but his communal lifestyle that I read about in magazines. Even some of his abstract movies thrilled me because they were so different than mainstream. The ones starring Edie Sedgwick I couldn’t get enough of. She had this delicate vulnerability that was like Marilyn Monroe and Twiggy combined.”
“Who’s Twiggy?”
“A model from the 60’s.” Mom wrung her hands, staring off a moment in order to collect her thoughts. Returning to me she began, “One day when Edie was still living at home, she walked in on her father in bed with a woman who wasn’t her mother. And you know what he did?” I shook my head. “He hit her as if it was she who’d done something wrong. Then he told her she’d imagined it, and he called a doctor to drug her. And to top it off, he locked her away in an institution.”
“What is an institution?”
“It’s a jail for crazy people.”
I gasped, “Why would he do that? She wasn’t crazy!”
“Because he was a sick man, Marion. Bad men will call you crazy for saying the truth aloud.”
“If anyone hits me I’ll hit him back!”
“Honestly honey, it’s usually best to run.”
“What are you thinking about, Mar?” Troy lazily asks, expensive whiskey glass swaying between his thumb and forefinger.
I gaze at him a moment thinking that Troy would never touch me in anger. He’d probably talk about his feelings until I wanted him to shut up, instead. Touching my leg to his, I start to say, “I was just thinking about something my…” and pause to turn my head so I can tell Jack, “You make me feel like I could be anything I want to be, have I ever told you that?”
His eyes light up as he smiles, “No, you haven’t.”
“What about me?” Troy asks on a chuckle.
“You make me feel understood.”
Amber liquid shines as it tilts back in his glass. “I’ll take it.”
Gazing at the stars again, my hand drifts toward Jack. “It’s stunning here. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it. Can I have another?”
I feel him relieve me of my empty glass, hear the pour, and feel the weight returned, slightly greater. Bringing it to my lips, I enjoy a tiny taste since Scotch is sharp for my blood. But it’s warm, like this delicious air, and the impact is sensual and wanted. I normally drink champagne, but this is one of the many reasons why I enjoy the company of men — good men — they open my mind to