Chapter Seven
Annie The Anorexic
Frustrated, Dixon sat on the living room sofa waiting for his sister to lace up her running shoes. Her legs were skinny with more spider veins than an old woman, but he tried not to focus on that. Out the door on the pavement with one mission—run six miles in forty minutes. That's the thought that raced through his mind, but Annie planned to run the first three miles or until she felt she had enough jogging for a Monday morning. It was warm, but not too warm and the streets were quiet and empty with an occasional car horn blasting in the wind. The morning breeze rushed through the trees and his motivational level was above average.
Tucked in the inner pocket of his shorts was his black cellphone in case of an emergency. His sister walked in front of him wearing baggy shorts and a baggy shirt that looked as if she had grabbed his clothes, but she had shrunk to a size zero, maybe smaller. What's beautiful about the girls in the magazines? He thought to himself. He had a hard time completely understanding her infatuation with the skinny girls in all the covers. The girls in the pages of the ads and Annie both desired beauty; the girls, airbrushed, makeup artist, and expensive personal trainers to achieve success; Annie, a box of laxatives. In the end, they all would end up on speaking tours telling other girls the pitfalls of beauty, if they were lucky. The other ones would probably end up in their hometown cemetery with their youthful beauty intact. Live hard and fast and die before thirty was something he wouldn't allow Annie to do. Not his sister. Not ever.
"Annie," he said as he watched her stretched in the streets.
"What?" She asked.
"Are you eating?" He asked as he tugged on her shirt.
She pushed his hand away, and said, "Yes, Dixon!"
"Bull," he said, "You haven't touched one TV dinner." He pulled his cellphone out of his shorts, snapped a picture, and showed it to her. "Look, Annie?"
She took the phone, and looked a little shock. "What did you do to the picture?"
"Nothing," he snapped, "That's you. Skinny and frail."
"Oh my God," she said, "But when I look in the mirror..."
"Distortion. I know. It's just like before."
Angered, he sat on the curb with his head in his hands, weeping. His sister continued to look at the picture with a look of disgust on her face, and simply said, "Maybe I should eat more."
"Just eat at least sixteen hundred calories," he said, "With all the exercising we're doing, sixteen hundred is all you need."
"Okay, Dixon. Okay."
When he returned from his long run, Annie sat in the kitchen stuffing her face with a few pancakes. He showered, went to Ivy's house, and played video games with Raj.
"How you feeling?"
"It's up. It's down. Today it's down."
"Shoot, maybe we can go to the Peach Pitt or something later," he said, "That might cheer you up."
"Nooooo," Ivy said as she walked into the living room from the kitchen. "That's too much stress."
"The Peach Pitt?" Raj asked.
"The doctor said rest," she said.
"It's not like I'm gonna get better," he said.
"Hey, I didn't mean to start anything."
"You didn't," Raj said, "It's been like this for weeks."
The overwhelming smell of the incense that Ivy burned all over the house caught his attention within seconds of entering the dwelling, but he didn't say anything about it. He smoked his weed nonstop to deal with the pain, and he had a trash can full of bloody tissues from his bleeding nose. Every hour on the hour, Ivy attended to his every need, but she had suggested several times that it might be time for a hospice nurse. It was hard to say because one day he'd be flat on his back, and the next day he'd be on his feet and motivated.
"Just go, Raj," she said with the dark circles under her eyes, and a look of frustration on her face.
"I won't go," he said.
In Dixon's mind, he thought if his friend hopped off the couch every now and again that he'd feel a little better; but at the same time, he wasn't suffering from a cold. It wasn't as if he'd wake up one day without death looming over his head. It was going to happen sooner than later, and his wife wasn't prepared for the worse. After a while of playing the video game, Ivy rolled an oxygen tank into the room, extinguished his joint, and placed the mask over his face. The thumbs up and a smile, and she walked back to the kitchen with her surfing magazine and a coffee while Raj overtook Dixon on "Pro Football."
"You beat me," Dixon said, "Can't believe you came back like that."
"You didn't let me win, did you?"
"Nope," he said, "You worked it."
When he left out the house, Ivy followed behind him, and he knew she was going to let him have it. He could feel her frustration. Arms folded. Lips tightened. Chin down. She stood by the steps leading up to her house, with her bare feet on the bottom step, and she had pulled her hair into a ponytail. "Quit egging him on, Dixie," she said.
"I'm not."
"You're the only friend we have," she said, "He can't be out and about."
"Just want to go to the Peach Pitt."
"Especially the Peach Pitt," she snapped. Her eyes watered a little, and he could see the pain in her face. "I still love you, Dixie, but I won't let you or anybody take him from me."
"Like I'd do that," he said, "Come on, Ivy. You're getting carried away."
"Am I? I know he's going to die. I knew that when I married him," she said with her hands on her hips. "But it's not fair."
"Life's not fair."
He held Ivy for a minute, gave her a hug, and then left; but at the same time he felt a little sorry for her. He wouldn't tell her that. He'd never tell her that. His heart held a special place for her too, but he couldn't see himself with her, even if Raj wasn't in the picture. Maybe it was Oscar's interference, but he didn't even know if that was the case. He loved her, but that was that, nothing more.
When Dixon stormed through the front door, he nearly passed out on the floor when he saw Annie and Liam having sex in the living room. "What are y'all doing?"
"Sorry, bro," Liam said.
"Oops!"
"Something wrong with your room?" He asked.
Liam pulled up his pants, and said, "Got caught in the moment."
Later on in the evening, Dixon and Liam went over to the marina, and Liam grabbed his paycheck. It was a warm evening, and they had made plans to watch Teddy in his tennis match. The two sat up at the top of the stand, and Teddy wore a white shirt, white shorts, and had a rainbow pin over his heart.
"How is he doing?" Liam asked.
"Ahead this round," he said, "He's going to take this."
"There's Navid and Silver," Liam said.
"Navid!" Dixon blurted.
They ran up to the top, and Silver asked, "Why are you two in the nosebleed section?"
"Just chilling," Liam said.
"Where's Ade?" Dixon asked.
"Haven't seen her in a week," Silver said as she leaned against Dixon's legs. "Probably not going to for the summer."
"Might go by there tomorrow after my dance lessons."
"Dance?" Liam asked.
"You didn't know?" Navid asked. "Dixon entered a country dance contest."
"Really?"
"A little surprise for my girl," he said, "She's been wanting to enter the contest for years."
"Harps got you wrapped around her little finger," Liam said.
"It's true," Navid chimed.
"She treats me right," Dixon said.
"What's that suppose to mean?" Silver asked in a snotty way.
Her question caught Dixon off guard, and then he said, "I didn't mean anything by it."
"Well, you should watch your mouth," she snapped, "'Cause I felt you were pointing fingers at me."
"Well, I wasn't."
"Ace!" Naivid yelled.
"Did you see that?" Liam asked.
"Told you. Teddy is the man," Navid said, "Go, Teddy!"
After the match, Dixon and Liam drove to his house, and Liam hung out with Annie while Dixon talked to Navid on the front porch. Navid had shame written all over his face, but Dixon didn't know the reason immediately. He knew that Silver had been driving him crazy since Ade messed up her medications. He just knew that Silver did better on the drugs than his birth Momma. She'd take the drugs, but she also drank wine all day and all night; and the alcohol reversed the effects of the drugs. That's probably the reason she abandoned him, but he didn't truly know. He just speculated all the time about that.
"She's drinking, Dee," Navid said, "Every freaking day."
"What are you saying?"
"Guzzling the wine. The cheap stuff too."
"Oh hell," he said, "That means she's acting crazier than ever."
"Exactly," he said, "Messing up my entire summer."
"What are you thinking?" He asked.
"I don't know. Ade neglected me, but this is a whole different level of torture."
"Been through it," he said, "First, my birth Momma did the same thing."
"Yeah. Silver grabbed a knife last night, and forced me out her house."
"What happened?"
"After we had sex, she accused me of thinking about Ade. It caught me completely off guard."
"Damn! Ouch!"
"I don't know, man. I really like her, but ..."
"Talk to her about the drinking," he said.
"Tried, man. It's insane."
Navid left a little bit after ten that evening, and the next day was going to be a long day. He had to prepare for his date with Harper on Friday, and make reservations at the hotel. He knew Navid's pain, but didn't have any good ideas when it came to Silver.
