“Hey, want a pancake?” Marc asked.
Chapter Twenty
With my mouth gaping open, I stood frozen as I watched Marc sidle up to the table and begin eating pancakes. He sat there like he’d never left, like today was just like any other day. Here he was eating breakfast for dinner, and he wanted me to join him. I felt catatonic.
“Are you gonna sit down, at least?” he said between mouthfuls.
Like a suspicious cat, I walked over to the chair across from him. Everything felt like it was happening in slow motion as I sat down. He kept his eyes on his plate. My bones felt like they were coming unhinged inside me.
Marc put his fork down, and I could feel him bobbing his legs up and down under the table. “Sorry,” he mumbled.
The rage was migrating through my body. “Seriously?” My teeth clenched. “That’s it?” I wanted to flip the table over.
He pushed himself out of his chair and stood up. “Look, Marissa, don’t give me a hard time about this, all right.” He began pacing.
It was like a skydiver had just landed on my back. I felt the weight of his words, heavy and dense. “Are you kidding me right now?” I got up and walked toward him, matching his pacing. “Don’t give you a hard time? Are you kidding me, Marc? I don’t even know what to say to you right now!” I hated when my voice got all high and squeaky when I was angry.
“What do you want me to say here, Marissa? I’m sorry. That’s it.” He continued to pace as he ran his hands through his hair.
There were a million things I had to say to him but somehow, I couldn’t manage to make a concrete thought. I started with, “Where have you been?”
“Nowhere and everywhere.”
Was he being some kind of abstract poet? “And what does that mean? It’s been over a year Marc!” I halted his pacing by standing in front of him. “A year!”
With heavy eyes, he looked down at me, and I prayed that I didn’t start crying. I couldn’t stand my ground firm enough if I started crying.
“Look, Marissa, I never wanted to hurt you.”
“Really?” I snapped. “You didn’t think once about me, because if you had, you never would have left in the first place. And if you had thought about me at all, you would have at least called me to see if I was okay. You selfish jerk. I wish you hadn’t come back.” I couldn’t believe I said that. My love for Marc was so deep, but now the pain that he had caused me by leaving was coming to a head. After all this time he was finally here before me, and my heart couldn’t contain it anymore. He had hurt me.
He looked taken aback, like he didn’t understand who I was saying these words to him. His baby sister that had worshiped him had just called him a selfish jerk.
“Wow. I don’t know what to say here.” While shaking his head, he stepped back from me. “I can’t have my little sister thinking I’m a piece of garbage, I just can’t.”
His eyes darted from the kitchen to the living room, and he looked like he was trying to do long division in his head. After a moment he went to the kitchen and grabbed two coffee mugs. I watched as he filled them both with the coffee he had made to accompany his pancakes. Then he rummaged through the cabinets looking for something. Satisfied, he pulled out a bag of chocolate chip cookies and tossed a pile of them on a plate. My feet were frozen as I stood watching him with my arms folded. Methodically he grabbed two large glasses, which he filled with milk, and set them on the table. Then he sat and looked at me.
“Wanna tell me what you’re doing?” My arms remained crossed.
“I know you don’t do tea parties anymore, but how about a coffee party? If you sit down and listen to what I have to say, I’ll sit and listen to what you have to say, and maybe we can meet somewhere in the middle.”
Again the rush of tears filled my eyes, like the beavers had forgotten to barricade the dam sufficiently. I pulled a chair out and sat across from him. He had already begun eating one of the cookies.
“So, first off, tell me where Gram is.” Cookie crumbs collected in the corners of his mouth.
Oh no. “Oh, she’s… in… the hospital.”
****
Marc’s knuckles were turning white as he gripped the steering wheel. “So tell me again, exactly what did the doctor say?” He pulled a rolling stop at a stop sign.
“He said her levels were where he wanted them to be or something, and that it looked like everything was going to be fine.” I held onto the door a bit as he turned a corner too fast.
“But he didn’t say definitely? He said probably? That she’ll probably be okay?” I could hear the underlying panic in his voice.
“She’s going to be fine.” I tried to sound reassuring.
“You should have called me.”
What? “When I called you after you first took off, I got a recording that the number was no longer in service. How could I have called you?” There was no hiding my defensiveness.
He let out a heavy sigh. “I know, sorry. Knee-jerk reaction there. Sorry.”
This was the fifth time he’d said “sorry” during our drive. I
