Irises
by softydog88
Chapter Thirty-Six
Goodbye
"Goodbyes make you think. They make you realize what you've had, what you've lost, and what you've taken for granted."―Ritu Ghatourey
August 2, 2015
"Good morning," Jody said cheerfully.
Marilyn was sitting on the couch with her head down. She looked up, and it was clear she had been crying. Jody ran to sit next to her.
"What's wrong?" she said. "Is it Jason?"
Marilyn nodded. "He's gone. I got home from work and my bed―our bed—was empty and all his clothes were gone. I've been calling and texting for two hours, and he didn't reply. He's not coming back, Jody. He's never coming back."
She fell to her left and cried in Jody's arms. For a half-hour Jody held her, comforted her, reassured her, until Marilyn's phone dinged with a text. She read it and dropped the phone.
"Go ahead and read it," she told Jody.
I'm changing my number, so you might as well stop with the calls and texts. Don't pretend you don't know why, either. Goodbye, Marilyn.
This time, Marilyn was too stunned to cry. She stood and shuffled down the hallway.
"I've been awake all night," she said. "I'm going to sleep."
"OK," Jody replied. "By the way, my mom got here last night. She's at a motel and she'll be here to help me finish packing and start loading the truck soon, but call me if you need anything, OK?"
Marilyn nodded and dragged herself into bed.
She dreamed.
They all hated her today, and she ran to escape from it. Her sanctuary, a place where she could be away from everyone else, was calling to her. She sat under it and looked up. The sun was passing behind some clouds, making the day unnaturally dark.
Perfect, she thought. She put her head in her hands and raged at the world.
Why do they tease me? she wondered. Because I cried in class? They'd cry too, if they had to put up with the shit I put up with. Don't they know how much it hurts?
"What's wrong?"
The voice came from her left. She turned and saw that kid that was always staring at her. Jason. What a pain.
Time slipped as the dream showed her only what she needed to see. "I love Oreos," she heard herself say. She bumped her hand against his, just for a moment, when they both tried to dunk their cookies. She felt a visceral thrill—her first contact with someone who wasn't family.
The scene dissolved in a sea of white. She was staring at The Death of Socrates, wondering how anyone could be so courageous. She was holding Jason's pinky in her left hand and offering her first impressions. A voice broke in.
"It's pronounced Sock-Ruh-Tees."
Her name was Kate and she offered to help. Suddenly Marilyn was running, and then, just like that, Kate explained about van Gogh, and Irises.
Marilyn blinked and found herself surrounded by irises in the New York Botanical Gardens.
"I love you, Marilyn," Jason said.
"I love you too, Jason."
So they were in love. And then she was in her apartment and her parents were dead, right next to her, and Jason was running out the door. Marilyn jumped in shock and everything was suddenly black. She felt herself floating away in space, like Gandalf in The Two Towers, untethered from the world, her destination out of her control. And then gravity tugged at her, and she slowed down and drifted, carefully, deliberately, as though the universe wanted her to be in this place, with this man, and safe from harm.
She turned her head and heard herself say "yes, I forgive you, and yes, I still love you, and yes, I still want to make love to you." And then Jason was on top of her, and she held his hands so hard it hurt, and then there was a new pain, sharp, but sweeter than any pain she had ever endured, and her dreaming self reached out for Jason unconsciously as she imagined he was still there, next to her, for the first night of the rest of their lives.
It was gone in an instant and Marilyn was sitting all alone in Eddie's Place. Alone until she came in.
Belle.
It was so good to see her again! From the start, Marilyn knew Belle was a tragic figure. But she was kind, and sweet with a trusting nature that was so rare, especially in a big city. And Marilyn cried in her sleep when Belle told her about Eddie, then laughed as Belle demonstrated her hook shot. And she cried again when Kate placed Belle in handcuffs and read her her rights.
Life was so unfair. Just when she had made a new friend, fate snatched her away.
But Belle had a sister.
Marilyn knew from the start that Jody wouldn't stay long. Jody had told her so when she agreed to let Marilyn advise her. And Jody wasn't as strong as Belle, either. Marilyn could see it in her body language; it was hesitant and carefully measured, and it only grew worse when she lost Belle. But Marilyn saw a spark in her, a kernel of intelligence and wit that needed nurturing to develop. Jody needed skills and she needed confidence, and Marilyn had enough of both to spare.
"I owe you so much," Jody cried just the other night. "And yes, I'll visit Melissa after all. You're right—no matter what else, she's my sister."
Jody disappeared, and Marilyn was staring at her phone, gobsmacked, contemplating the cruelest, most unexpected words she could imagine.
Goodbye, Marilyn.
And then everything was black.
She woke and checked her phone; it was…
7:23 AM, August 3, 2015
Marilyn had slept for twenty-three hours.
"Good morning, sleepyhead," Jody saidas Marilyn slogged through the living room.
"Morning, Lorraine McFly," Marilyn said, and Jody laughed. "Sorry I slept so long."
Jody handed Marilyn a cup of coffee. "Clearly you needed it. I hope it did you a world of good."
Marilyn nodded. "Time to get on with my life, I guess."
Jody nodded and hugged her. Then she said "hey, I told my mom that I'd take her to the bar. She wants to see what she gave up, I guess. Want to come?"
"No," Marilyn said, "I don't think...you know what? Yes, I'd like to come. I should be around friends."
"Damn straight. Mom will be here in about a half hour."
Marilyn finished her coffee, took a couple of Advil and then had a long, hot shower. The tension in her muscles seemed to waft away with the steam.
The tension in her mind did not.
"Is it always this busy?" Rhonda asked as she sat down at a table with Jody and Marilyn.
"At this time of day, yes," Marilyn said. "It's mostly people who work the graveyard shift and a few who...don't."
Beer was the libation of choice at this hour, and Marilyn had recently increased her purchase orders of three different brews on tap, as people showed up in groups from work and exclusively ordered pitchers. She also had the pool tables re-covered, in elegant-looking red felt and she replaced the old, crooked cues. The rest of the décor was essentially the same.
They talked for a minute before a waitress stopped at their table.
"Tabitha," said Jody, "this is my mom. Mom, this is Tabitha. She lives across the hall from Marilyn."
"Ah!" Tabitha said as she shook Rhonda's hand and beamed her a smile. "It's so nice to meet Jody and Belle's mother."
"Belle?" Rhonda said.
"She means Melissa," Jody explained. "Her nickname here was Belle."
"And in her honor, the bar was named after her," Tabitha said. "Oh, and by the way, we're all real sorry about what happened. It's really sad, you know? Belle—sorry, Melissa—was like a mother to us. She was really on our side. We all love her."
"Thanks," Rhonda muttered.
"What'll ya have?" Tabitha asked.
"Just bring me a ginger ale, please," Rhonda said.
Marilyn made a peace sign and said "two," and Jody said "nothing for me."
Rhonda excused herself to use the ladies room. Tabitha had just started to walk away when Marilyn caught her arm. "I have to talk to you and Samantha," she said. "It's urgent."
"She's in the back," Tabitha said. "Shall I get her now?"
"Yeah, please do."
Tabitha disappeared into a doorway behind the bar and emerged a few minutes later with Samantha. Marilyn saw them and took them aside just as Rhonda reappeared behind them.
"You've got to stop turning tricks in my apartment," Marilyn said.
Rhonda heard that and froze. She moved quickly to hide behind some customers and tried to look as nonchalant as one could with a horrified expression pasted to her face.
"I can't let you do that," Marilyn continued. "If you get busted, I could go down with you and I can't let that happen."
Samantha and Tabitha exchanged glances.
"We don't you to get in trouble," Samantha said.
"You really stuck your neck out for us and helped us," Tabitha said. "We'll just start taking the johns back to the Bay Tower again. The night clerk there is such a dope he probably thinks Eddie is still alive, and being the enforcer like always."
Rhonda sped back to the table. She was pale and perspiring.
"Are you OK, mom?" Jody asked.
"A little warm is all," Rhonda said. "I'll be fine when I drink some cold soda."
"Here we are," Marilyn said. She placed the ginger ales on the table. Rhonda drank hers in two gulps and stared at Marilyn before forcing her gaze away, her mind full of questions, with one the most persistent.
What did she do to my girls?
"Curve!"
Belle lifted her head slowly and glared at the prison guard, then dropped her head back on her pillow. The guard rattled her nightstick against the cell's bars like a playing card on the spokes of a kid's bike.
"Let's go, Curve! You've got a visitor."
This time, Belle sat up, surprised. The sound of the metal key in the lock still bothered her. It was so indicative of this dump, which she had long ago named the place where dreams go to die, though she acknowledged that most of the inmates had done very well murdering their own dreams. And their victims, in some cases, as she knew well.
It wasn't visiting day, so there was no physical contact allowed; the inmate and visitor on opposite sides of bulletproof glass and used a phone. Rhonda was waiting when Belle sat down. By the time Belle picked up the phone, she was already crying.
"I thought you were never coming to see me," Belle said.
"I wasn't going to," Rhonda managed to say, "but I'm here to help Jody move home. Peter's with your aunt. He's doing fine."
"How's Jody?"
"She's managed to save enough money to start over, though she'll be living with me to start. You were right about Marilyn. She taught your sister a lot. Jody's become confident and self-assured. If she can do that here, Cincinnati will be a breeze."
Belle smiled. "I knew it."
"I just came here from Barbelle's," Rhonda said.
Belle shrugged. "What's that?"
"Marilyn's bar. I sold it to her."
"That's fantastic! I didn't know Marilyn was doing as well as that."
"One of the waitresses told me they named it after you, that they knew you as Belle."
Belle nodded. "I was Belle to them," she said. "It was just a nickname."
"Suddenly you have a problem with Melissa?"
"Of course not, mom. But they're the women I told you about. The ones Eddie had under his thumb. When I realized what he was doing to them, I got to know them. I wanted them to know that they weren't alone. I called myself Belle, after Belle Watling, from Gone With the Wind."
"After a prostitute?"
"They're prostitutes!" Belle said, her anger rising. "It was done out of solidarity."
"Solidarity? Why would you want to offer solidarity to such sinners?"
"They were victims!" Belle shouted.
"Keep it down, Curve," the guard shouted, "or you're going back to your cell now!"
"They were victims," Belle repeated. "Victims of the same kind of cruel circumstances that a lot of women face. Some were abused as children. Some were in abusive relationships as adult. Some got hooked on drugs. They were desperate. Can't you have a little bit of Christian compassion for them?"
"Oh, I have all the compassion in the world, Melissa. But they needed more than compassion, they needed help. How was changing your name and becoming their best friend helping them?"
"Their best friend? Is that what they told you? Did you even talk to anyone? I was way more than that. I was their babysitter. I helped two of them with homework. I got one of them into rehab. And I got them in touch with Marilyn. She's a financial genius, mom. I knew she could help them. My compassion for them wasn't just lip service, it was meaningful. I helped them."
"And your sister? Did you help her? I told you when she moved to this godforsaken city to watch out for her."
Belle panicked. "What do you mean?" she asked nervously. "You said she was doing fine."
"Oh, she's doing more than fine. She's doing tricks."
"Turning tricks? Jody? No way, mother. No way."
"I overheard Marilyn tell two of those waitresses who live across the hall to stop turning tricks in the apartment. And Jody spends a lot of time there, Melissa. She told me herself. Is this the great "business advice" Marilyn gave her? To become a whore?"
Belle turned white. "No," she said, "not Jody. No way!"
"Time!" the guard shouted. "Back you go, Curve."
The sound on the phone cut out, and Rhonda just watched as Belle shouted "not Jody!" over and over as she was dragged off.
"Hey, guys," Marilyn whispered. "Remember me?"
She thought about it and wondered if any of these irises were the same ones that were growing here at the New York Botanical Gardens on her first trip. She decided probably not, though perhaps they were descendants, and that made her happy.
"It doesn't matter," she said, her voice breaking. "You're here now. I'm here now. We're together."
She chuckled. "Not Jason and me," she said. "We were together then but we're not together now. But that's how life goes, sometimes, I guess."
There was a mother and daughter sitting on the bench were she and Jason sat that day. The daughter transferred her balloon to her mother to eat some popcorn, then took it back and laughed as a squirrel approached. The mother whispered something into her daughter's ear. The girl tossed a couple of popcorn kernels near the squirrel and laughed again as the squirrel devoured them.
Marilyn looked away. She was rubbing her finger absentmindedly, and then realized her thumb hurt. She looked at the diamond-shaped indentation in her skin, then took out her phone and read her text from Jason for the last time.
Goodbye, Marilyn.
She sighed and deleted it.
Goodbye, Jason, she said.
She took off her ring and pressed it into the soft ground next to the one white iris in this field of them.
"It's insufferable in here," Rhonda declared.
"It's New York in the summer, mother," Jody replied.
"I'm opening the window. We've got to get some air flow going in here." She undid the latch and opened the window, taking a quick survey of things on the street and shaking her head at the sight of a man and woman talking. Prostitution everywhere you look, she thought. Even in broad daylight.
"I hope this doesn't take too long," Jody said. "I didn't realize how much stuff I had accumulated in only six years here in New York."
"I'm surprised there isn't more," Rhonda said.
They packed in silence for a few minutes. Finally, Jody said "are you going to tell me where you went this morning?"
"Of course. I'm not trying to hide anything. I visited Melissa."
"What? I thought you had vowed never to visit her."
"I did," Rhonda admitted, "but...I gave her life. How can I not visit her?"
She was crying, and Jody hugged her.
"How's she doing?" Jody asked.
"She's getting by," Rhonda said. "She's getting by."
They spent the rest of the afternoon packing and transferring boxes to the U-Haul truck. By evening, Rhonda was getting frustrated.
"We can't wait for her any longer," Rhonda said. "If we don't get to our motel soon, we could lose our reservation."
"I have to say goodbye to Marilyn," Jody said. "This isn't even an option. "Can't you go, and I'll just take a cab to the motel?"
"We need to leave now," Rhonda said.
"NO!" Jody yelled. "You go. I'm staying and I'll meet you later. Is that clear?"
"It's clear," Rhonda said sheepishly. I can't believe Marilyn has this much of a hold on Jody, she thought.
"I won't wait all night," Jody said, softly. "If Marilyn isn't here by eight, I'll leave."
"Eight's OK."
"I'm going to write her a letter, just in case. I'll see you tonight, mom."
They hugged and Jody went into her bedroom to write. Rhonda closed the window and left.
It was 7:52 when Marilyn arrived. There were tears and hugs and expressions of gratitude, then more tears.
"I've got something in the refrigerator that I've been saving," Marilyn said.
"That bottle?" Jody asked.
"Yeah. It was supposed to be for me and Jason. But somehow, this is better."
She got the bottle and held it up. "Dom Perignon, 1998. Care to do the honors?"
"Love to," Jody said. She worked the cork with her fist until it was nearly released, then pushed it from the side with her thumbs. There was a loud pop, and the cork hit the ceiling.
"Great job!" said Marilyn.
"I'll get the glasses," Jody said.
"Who needs glasses? Let's just slam it."
They did. They made toasts, and told stories and vowed to visit each other. By the time Jody answered her mother's frantic call, she was thoroughly drunk.
"I'm calling for an Uuuuber now," Jody said, "so sit tight, mother. I'll be there soooon."
"You're drunk," Marilyn said. "Fun, isn't it?"
"I'm not dunk," Jody said. "And I'm not drunk, either." She laughed. "But it is fun to make the 'oooo' sound."
And that was that. Marilyn helped Jody to the car when the Uber driver left. They had one last hug.
And then Jody was gone.
Marilyn stayed up for a bit longer, watching TV. It was after 11 when she turned out the light and went to her bedroom.
She sat on her bed and surveyed the room...