Living in Surreality - 6. Chapter 6

chapter 6:
: edited by viv :

He smiled, spotting the pert young rear from a mile away. It was purely coincidental, the way the person reached forward, plucking a white peach from the mound of fruit displayed proudly. Coincidental because, that is exactly what the firm rear reminded him of, a nice ripe peach. Smiling at nobody in particular, he sauntered through the produce department, his eyes never leaving the backside of the young brunette who was returning the peach to the display.

"There is nothing better than a nice ripe peach," Richard said, sliding well within what any person would consider personal space.

Valerie, startled, spun around with a frown that curled into a smile as she realized the stranger was Matt's Father. "Hi Richard," she offered, doing her best to remain polite as she slowly back away from him. The look in his eyes making her skin crawl, Richard had been giving Valerie this look where he seemed distant, but his eyes squarely fixed on certain parts of her body in recent months.

"Where's Matt?" Valerie questioned, stepping further back as she tried to peek around Richard, hopeful to find Matt.

Richard's gaze wandered up from her chest with the question Valerie had asked, "He's at home moping around about something or another," Richard said, his preoccupation with his son fleeting.

"Oh," Valerie said, her voice falling as she tried to figure out a good excuse to get away from Richard Porter and the willies he gave her.

"You know," Richard offered advancing on Valerie's attempted retreat, "you've grown into quite a beautiful young woman," he smiled, lifting his fingers, curling them around an errant strand of Valerie's hair. "Far too beautiful to be hanging out with the likes of my son."

Swallowing, Valerie ducked away from the hand that attempted to smooth across her cheek, her eyes moving back and forth rapidly as she tried to find a way out.

"Richard?" Viola asked, walking up to Richard and Valerie, cautiously pushing a shopping cart.

The woman's voice had never sounded so sweet to Valerie. Breathing a sigh of relief, Valerie quickly stepped out of Richard's shadow as his attention swiveled on his wife. Valerie wanted to flee, at least to the infant care isle where she could tear open a pack of wipes and scrub the side of her face. While Richard hadn't made physical contact with anything but a strand of her hair, Valerie felt dirty. Dirty and ashamed as she could not bring herself to respond to her own name.

"Valerie, dear?" Viola repeated, a concerned look spreading over her face as her hand brushed Valerie's shoulder, a touch that Valerie vehemently shook off before realizing that it was Viola's hand and not Richard's. "Are you alright?" Viola questioned, seeking out Valerie's eyes.

Valerie slowly shook her head once; Viola's eyes met her own. Uncomfortable, Valerie dropped the grocery basket that she held loosely in her fingers. The colorful harvest of berries and apples, which lay in the basket, did little to assuage the discomfort Valerie felt crawling across her skin. With a curt nod to the woman who was asking her if she was all right, Valerie set the basket on the ground. Circling her arms around her stomach, Valerie's hands latched onto her elbows at her sides before she quickly retreated, any thoughts of a fruit salad forgotten, being replaced by a dreading concern over Matt's reaction, if he ever found out, towards her or his father.

Joanne approached the oval nurse's station, cluttered with folders, small stuffed animals and the occasional potted plant. Her sallow brown eyes landing on a middle-aged African-American woman dressed in bright blue pants and top, which had some Disney character or another all over it. Joanne sighed, her hand rubbing her temple as she leaned heavily onto the counter, catching the nurse's attention.

"Can I help you?" the nurse asked, noticing Joanne's dark expression.

"Is there coffee around here anywhere?" Joanne asked, unaware the hand rubbing at her temple, was also noticeably trembling.

The concerned look on the nurse's round face softened, into a slow smile, "Yeah," she said, standing from the chair she was seated in. "Come with me dear," she continued, as she rounded the nurse's station, taking Joanne by the shoulder.

"Thanks," Joanne said, offering a weak but appreciative smile.

Joanne couldn't figure out why she was so worried, her son was better off then most of the other people who had the misfortune of spending the afternoon in a hospital. Jacob did not have cancer, or a heart defect, or anything of that sort. She was still worried, as much as any other parent would be. She had come home from a long day at work, the type of day that make you realize that you really do have a job, to find Jacob sitting in a dark room. Holding his hand close to his stomach, tear stains still evident running from red swollen eyes.

She had asked what happened; Jacob's only response was to tell her he thought he might have broken his hand. Of course Joanne pawned over him for a few seconds, uttering the inevitable question of how. All she received as answer was a weak shrug. Joanne tried pushing the issue, only to have her son clam up on her, his jaw setting in silence.

Joanne sighed heavily, the smell of stale coffee assailing her nostrils, wrenching her from the memory of previous that afternoon, "Why is it so difficult?" she asked, not expecting a response.

"What difficult, sugar?" the nurse, whom Joanne had learned, somehow, was named Rita, asked not understanding Joanne's question.

Joanne smiled absently, "Teenage boys."

Rita gave Joanne a scathing look, before turning and pouring her a cup of coffee, "Girl, don't I know that. Raised my brother when I was in my early twenties, now I'm going through the whole mess a second time around with my son. Trust me, it just doesn't get easier," Rita finished, handing the small cup of coffee off to Joanne.

Joanne accepted the cup gratefully, her delicate hand bypassing the rainbow of sweetener packets that were stuffed into a spare coffee cup, choosing instead the real sugar. She plucked three packets out of the pile, straightening them out in her fingertips, Joanne's wrist gave a few quick flicks pushing all of the crystals to the bottom of the little paper pouches. Ripping the top of the packets, she dumped the lot into the offered cup of black coffee; and skipping the creamer, she stirred the liquid.

"I'm just worried. Jacob used to talk to me about anything, everything. Now when something comes up that he needs help with, he won't let me in," Joanne said, the words rushing out, "I know he needs help, I can see it in his eyes."

"That's a young man for you," Rita soothed Joanne, her hand rubbing Joanne's shoulder lightly, "It's not like it used to be. When a boy proved he was a man by going on his first hunt alone. The world offers its young no more dragons to slay, yet expects all the bravado that comes with such achievements," Rita said, her hand falling from Joanne's shoulder, "He's trying to be a man, trying not to burden those he loves with his problems."

"I'm his mother, I'm supposed to fix the world for him," Joanne said, knowing she was being irrational; she just wanted to hear it in a voice other then the one that was screaming obscenities inside her head.

"But you can't fix everything, and some things a man has to figure out for himself," Rita said, nodding her head.

"Thank you," Joanne smiled genuinely, taking a sip of the bitter liquid.

"Now if the cops show up..." Rita laughed, "Nothing I said should be followed, some mistakes men should never be allowed to make."

Joanne laughed feeling relieved and just a little silly. It had been a long time since she could kiss the pain away and make it better.

Viola watched, concerned and upset, as her best friend's daughter fled the grocery store. She said little else to her husband, instead maneuvering the shopping cart she had fantasies of yielding as a weapon, to the nearest check out line. Her cheeks heated, frustration with herself building with each item Viola slammed onto the belt. How could she have turned the other cheek so many times, stared with ignorance at the truth that had always been there? The stale computerized beep of her items, as a smiling young woman scanned them, only added to the mounting self-hatred. Compounding it to a point where Viola felt nauseous with herself, the life she felt trapped with in, abandoning her groceries, Viola staggered out of the store, her mind a dizzying haze of thoughts.

Viola walked on autopilot to the parked Mercedes, her stomach knotted as she allowed the constriction of fear in her chest to ebb, finding strength in the crisp evening air.

"What was that all about?" Richard asked, regarding his wife suspiciously, as she had left him to apologize to the cute clerk.

Viola did not answer, waiting instead until had she taken her seat in the soft leather passenger seat. Gathering her courage she eyed Richard as her took his seat and fired the German engine before her lips parted.

"I want you out Richard..." Viola said, her voice betraying the emotion she was trying to stifle. "Tonight."

"What are you talking about now?" Richard balked, slamming the Mercedes back into neutral.

"There was a line Richard," Viola shouted in the confines of the luxury vehicle, her angry eyes not flinching for a second as she stared down her husband. "A line I kept moving for you. Tonight you crossed it."

Richard continued to stare at the woman who sat beside him, thinking she had lost her mind.

"You held her when she was born," Viola continued, "in the hospital for Christ's sake." Viola couldn't fight back the tears that were now steadily streaming down her face, smearing her mascara in long trails. "Is nothing off limits, nothing?"

"I don't know what you are going on about," Richard stated, sliding the car into reverse as he pulled out of the stall.

"OH GET OFF IT!" Viola screamed, fighting the urge to lay into the man. Lay into him for years of cheating; lay into him for their son, and for the violation of Valerie she witnessed. "You practically molested a girl who's been like a daughter to us, in the middle of the produce section."

"I did-" Richard started before Viola soundly cut him off.

"I want you out tonight Richard, or you won't be able to fix what I will do," Viola said sternly, her eyes holding his, as she ripped his campaign button she wore off, her lips narrowing. She needn't give voice to the threat that was basking in the pure joy of her spited mind. Richard clearly saw her intentions of leaking every little secret and indiscretion he'd ever had flash across her dark green eyes.

"Well it sure looks broken," the blonde female med student said, giving Jacob's swollen red hand a quick glance before taking a seat in front of him. Jacob stayed still, except for an annoyed look as he watched the wholesome looking intern pull on a pair of exam gloves. "Let's see," she said grabbing Jacob's hand off the small rolling table.

Jacob fought the urge to rip his injured hand from her grasp and the haphazard way she was treating it. Instead, every muscle in his upper body tensed, becoming rigid. The intern smiled at Jacob apologetically, she may have been new to practice but she knew the signs of pain and discomfort.

"You're a student right?" he asked through gritted teeth.

"Yes," she answered easily as she examined his hand more gingerly than before.

"You need to work on your bedside manor," Jacob said, informing her of the rough way she had handled him initially.

"Sorry," she said flashing Jacob a sly grin, "the dummies don't usually complain."

"Well this one does," Jacob responded his voice absent of humor and tinged with malice.

"Do you mind telling me how you injured your hand?" she inquired, unsure how to continue speaking to him after his last comment.

"I didn't like the way a locker looked at me," he answered dryly; sore the subject had to be discussed.

"Ohh, those lockers, they are horrible creatures aren't they," she gave Jacob a sly smile as she gently laid his hand back on the table.

Jacob smiled back, as much as he wanted to remain glum and generally pissed at the world, he couldn't.

"So did you come alone?" she asked emboldened by his smile.

"No, my mom went for coffee," Jacob's smile faded into a look of concern.

"In this place?" the intern's eyes widened in surprise, "that woman has some guts."

"No guts, she's just worried about me," Jacob's shoulders fell with the realization, "It's always the same whenever she's worried; black, three sugars. Other than that she doesn't drink the stuff."

"Should she be worried about you?" the intern asked, leaning back, folding her arms over her chest.

Jacob shrugged at the intern's question, not wanting to give voice to the truth he knew, his eyes searched the bland surroundings he found suddenly interesting.

"I guess," Jacob paused, fiddling with a spec on his jeans. "We just moved here not too long ago and I've already been suspended for fighting. Now she comes home tonight to find me with a broken hand. I've hardly told her anything about it, okay?" Jacob told her, hoping she would understand

"Why did you get into the fight?" the student doctor asked, concerned as she leaned towards Jacob who was sitting on an exam table.

"I thought I was protecting someone, someone I cared about," Jacob paused, waiting for the tightness in his throat to pass. "I thought they felt the same way."

"They, didn't hmm?" she accentuated the first word, noticing something.

Jacob shook his head to confirm her statement, the fact that she had emphasized 'they' not dawning on him.

"Can I ask, is 'they' male or female?"

"I'd rather not answer that one doc," his gaze dropped to his feet, which were busy dangling off the edge of the exam table.

"Ahh," she said easily, "Don't you worry about your mom; she's only doing what most moms do best." the intern said, her hand lightly grasping Jacob's shoulder, reassuring him. "So it's fighting this week. Next she'll be worried about who's breaking your heart or vice versa."

Jacob chuckled, his eyes still focused on what little of the ground he could see.

"And God have mercy when you start driving," the intern added, chuckling.

"He already has." Joanne mentioned, wandering back to the exam room. "I think he inherited my lead foot." The sound of the intern's easy laughter, and Jacob's laughter joined her own. Joanne couldn't put into words the relief she felt at hearing the laughter of her son.

Jacob eyed his mother, curious to know what she was thinking, curious as to the origins of her puffy eyes. He knew she had been crying over him. The knowledge that he could hurt her without even trying left him feeling like shit. Joanne caught his appraising look, giving Jacob a weak smile; she cupped her hand around his right cheek, her fingers grazing across his ear and hairline. A small smile curled the corners of Jacob's lips, closing his eyes; he leaned into her offered palm, into her forgiveness.

"Ma," Jacob said, looking his mother in the eye as he enjoyed the warmth of her palm, "this is Doc," he nodded in the direction of the female intern. "Doc this is Ma."

Joanne chuckled lightly and extended her free hand to the intern.

"Joanne Keats. You'll have to excuse Sherlock here," she said, pushing his head away playfully, "he can be quite the smart alack when he chooses."

"Schellene," the intern said, taking Joanne's hand and shaking it lightly. "He's been delightful, besides if he gets out of hand I can deal with him. I need suturing practice and the kits are just across the hall."

"Hey." Jacob intoned, feeling like sticking his tongue out at Schellene.

"So what are we looking at?" Joanne asked, getting back to business.

"It's fractured that's for sure. We just need to get some X-rays to find out exactly where and to what extent. After that, you're probably looking at a soft cast. I don't think fiberglass, will be of much help."

Joanne nodded her head understanding.

"Let me go get some forms filled out so you guys can head up to radiology," Schellene said, pushing away from the exam table and standing. "I'll be right back," she continued, plucking the chart off the table.

The incessant electronic ring of the telephone was pulling Matt out of the sleep he so desperately wanted. He had tried to ignore it, and the rest of the world, preferring to sleep until this nightmare of a day was long gone. Whatever his intentions were, the garish pleas to be answered would not cease. Regret filling him. Matt grabbed the headset wanting nothing more then to hurl it across the room to the opposite wall. Instead, he grudgingly pressed the talk button and brought the receiver to his ear.

"Hello," he mumbled, his voice gruff at the interruption.

"Well that's a fine hello Matty," Valerie remarked, her voice stern as she dropped the pencil she was scribbling with, leaving it to land across a steno book.

Matt made a sound half way between a huff and a growl into the receiver while putting his hand on his head. He was not in the mood to face or talk to anyone from Valerie to his parents at the moment.

"What the hell was that," Val questioned, her tone accusing as her eyes narrowed on her bedspread.

"I'm really not in the mood for this right now. I've had a shit day and you're not helping any," Matt said, even though he wanted to end the conversation.

"Excuse me?" Valerie's voice picked up a harsh edge, Almost letting it slip that he wasn't the only person in the world who was capable of having a bad day, ready to reveal her run-in at the store, before she thought better of it.

Matt let out another audible huff

"I said..." Matt spoke, sounding pained that he had to repeat himself.

"I heard what you said just fine," Valerie cut him off. "I'm sorry you had a 'shit' day, honestly I am, but you don't have to treat me like the gum on your shoe because of it."

"It's not that. It's..." Matt attempted to explain before Valerie cut him off again.

"It's exactly that Matty. Do you expect me to be overly sympathetic to you? Should I find out what's bothering you and shoo it away?" Valerie questioned, her voice taking edge, as she talked into the receiver.

"No, I..." Matt tried to speak as he shifted in his bed.

"Is that all I am good for, to fix your problems and make you happy and whole?" Valerie paused shortly giving a Matt a chance to respond.

A chance wasted. For everything, he wanted to say, every curse he wanted to spit into the phone, every misplaced emotion and unused apology, he couldn't, not when faced with Valerie's disappointment.

"Don't tell me I have that power over you Matty," her voice lowered to an emotional whisper, as if she were baring a dark secret. "I don't want that power Matty; I don't want anyone to have that power over you. You're too good for that."

Matt held the receiver to his ear as he lay in his dark room, stunned into silence.

"I don't want that power over anyone, well-" Valerie said, her voice brightening as a scene began to play out in her head, "maybe Jay. Yeah, Jay would be very good. Get him all riled up."

"Val," Matt whispered.

"Build him up endlessly for petty achievements," Valerie continued, the fantasy playing in her head becoming more vivid.

"Val," Matt said louder trying to break her train of thought.

"You know like tying his shoes by himself, or something stupid like that. Trivial crap," a Cheshire grin plastered across Valerie's face.

"Val," Matt attempted again.

"All the while, waiting for him to fail miserably at something that really mattered, just so I could rub his crooked nose in it mercilessly."

"VAL," Matt screamed.

"Matty, you're interrupting my fantasy," Valerie said, admonishing Matt as the sight of Jay bawling his eyes out and begging at her feet, eroded from her mind.

"Sorry," he mumbled into the handset.

"You should be, it was a perfec-" Valerie began.

"Not about that," Matt cut her off bluntly. "About expecting you to fix everything."

"Matthew..." Valerie warned, "Stop being stupid, I do fix everything. I just don't like being brushed off when I ask you things."

"I know," Matt admitted

"So tell me about your shit day," Valerie said, leaning back and resting her head on a pile of pillows as she spoke.

"It's complicated," Matt said, offering as much resistance to Valerie's persistence as he could.

"Oh really," Valerie retorted with mock indignation, as if she couldn't understand complications.

Matt knew he could not easily dance around the subject especially with Valerie, "People are starting to say some mean things."

"About you and Jacob?" Valerie questioned the events at school and last night's phone call with Jackie Spencer fresh on her mind.

Matt wouldn't... couldn't answer her quickly. The rumors seemed so much better when he didn't give them any credence. He lay in his bed, fingers absently playing with a loose thread on his pillow, as his chest began to feel tight and a sting burned at the corners of his eyes.

"Matty?" Val's voice brought him back.

"Yeah," he answered his voice quivering and distant.

"Are they saying things about you and Jacob?" Valerie repeated her question even though she already knew the answer.

He swallowed hard trying to fight back the tears that were welling in the corners of his eyes. However, his best effort on this front could never be enough. A lonesome tear rolled down his check, breeching his defenses, paving the way for more.

"Yeah," he croaked sorely.

There were few things in this world that made Valerie's blood boil, high on that list was the sound of Matt in pain. The faint sound of his sobs sent her bolt upright in her bed, her comfort long forgotten.

"I'm coming over," Valerie said in away that sounded as if no army in the world could keep her away.

"No," Matt stated half heartedly, wiping his nose with the back of his hand.

"Yes Matty," Valerie stated.

Matt squeezed his eyes hard, trying to relieve the tears that were now streaming without rein, down his face.

"You said yourself Val, you can't fix everything," Matt said, rolling onto his back, looking at the ceiling, staring at the stars that had long since faded. Trying in any way he could to make the horrid lump in his chest go away.

"Yes Matty. Yes I can," she said sternly.

"Not this," Matt shouted into the receiver, his voice laced with pain.

The tone in Matt's voice sent Valerie reeling, physically making her waiver as she attempted to stand. She could not understand what had him so upset, she wanted to know. Wanted to make it go away, but he wouldn't tell her what it was.

"What Matty?" she questioned again, her own eyes beginning to water. "I can't help if I don't know what's wrong."

"Him," Matt whispered in a horse sob.

"What?" Valerie's eyes dried instantly.

"Him; Jacob, you can't make what I feel for him go away. I can't make it go away. Part of me wants it like nothing I've ever wanted before. The other half would rather run from the feelings inside," Matt wept into the receiver.

Matt waited for an answer from Valerie, but nothing came.

"Val?" he whimpered.

His call answered by nothing but the sound of dead air.

"Val?" he repeated in a high-pitched croak.

The line went dead.

Matt threw the receiver across the room with a painful howl, where it smashed against the wall. Wrapping his arms around his head, Matt attempted to shield himself from the anger and frustration he felt with himself, with Jacob, and most of all, with Valerie.