Wood and Roses

As seconds went bye and turned to minutes of silence, Mer bit down on the corner of her lip and closed her eyes. The only sounds that could be heard in the small eight by twelve bedroom were the simultaneous shallow breaths being drawn by both Jack and Mercedes.

She closed her eyes, trying desperately to calm herself as the minutes dragged on still with no response. Jack wasn’t talking, moving, making any acknowledgement that he had heard any of what she had just told him. Both had ceased movement and conversation, praying fervently that maybe if they stayed still, maybe if they didn’t move an inch they could go back to where they were moments before…before Mer had told him anything at all.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Jack inhaled sharply as if trying to catch his breath. Mercedes could feel movement beside her as he reached a hand up to cup the side of his face, running it back through his hair and sighing.

“Jackie…”

“You should have lied.” There was a quiet grief in Jack’s voice that caught the words in Mercedes mouth and stopped them in their tracks. She could feel hot tears rushing to her eyes as he sat up in the bed and rested his elbows on his knees, suddenly looking older and more tired that his years would permit. He ran two hands though his hair, letting his head hang between his legs.

“Baby…” Her voice broke off and she tried to force herself not to cry…god why hadn’t she lied… Gathering all the courage she could muster, Mercedes sat up and inched towards Jack at the edge of the bed. He sat still, his back to her as stiff as a board, hands resting at the back of his neck, fingers shaking. Gingerly she reached out to touch his arm and he flinched, refusing to look at her. “You need to know that my past…before you and me, it-” Jack shot off of the bed so suddenly Mercedes jumped, inching farther back onto the mattress as Jack reached down and grabbed his boxers off of the floor.

“I can’t…I can’t talk about this.” He stepped quickly into his boxers and reached down for a pair of torn jeans that lay on the floor by the bed. “You used to…I mean for Christ’s sake Mer I knew you were a coke head but…” Jack’s voice broke off then, though not by choice. He swallowed hard, his face scrunching up as he tried to understand, to wrap his head around what she was telling him…anything not to let her make him cry. “I can’t even look at you.” He moved towards the bed and in one swift motion snatched the pillow from the edge, all the while doing his best to keep his back to Mer.

She sat on the bed, too petrified to move. Everything in her wanted to throw herself at him, beg him not to leave, to stay with her, talk to her…let her explain. Mercedes had however lost all ability to function…a suffocating pain in her chest stopped not only words but breath all together and she watched, helpless as the only man she’d ever loved prepared to walk out.

Jack paused at the door, hands gripping the pillow shakily. He half turned his head towards the bed. “You should have lied…”

The door clicked shut behind Jack. Mercedes sat on the bed, a stricken look of horror etched on her face. Movement evaded her and for a moment she was encompassed by the most amazing pain she had ever felt coursing through her veins and pooling in her core. When she was finally able to draw breath again it entered her lungs in one massive heave and when she tried to let it out, what came out of her was a noise that sounded almost inhuman, a moan so filled with grief that she barely recognized it as her own. She grabbed the blanket and shoved her face in it, trying desperately to muffle the great racking sobs that were pouring from her lips. And she thought she had known pain…

Mercedes sat there on the bed, knees folded beneath her, blanket in her arms, burying her face for hours as the sobs continued to come, never ceasing…finally as the sun shifted to the west and began to fall, she fell back onto the bed in silence. She had heard the front door slam hours earlier and not another sound since.

Her eyes felt like they had been rubbed in the sand, her ribs felt bruised, her hair a mess. As she steadied her breathing, she acknowledged the pain that was still ever present in her chest and tried to breathe through it. Good god…what had she done. Why couldn’t she have just lied…?

Mercedes pulled herself slowly into a sitting position and as though on auto pilot she got up, pulling on her jeans from the previous night, a bra and one of Jack’s band shirts. Pushing the hair from her face she took first one shaky step, then another and soon found herself standing in front of the bathroom mirror, both hands braced on either side. Her head hung loosely for a moment between her shoulders and was brought up slowly as she surveyed her appearance in the mirror. Her lips were swollen, eyes puffy and yet sunken in, cheeks flushed, hair frizzy and sticking up at all angles. She looked a mess….she looked worse than a mess and for the first time in her life, she didn’t care.

A sigh escaped her lips, long and low, followed by a quiet whistle. “Well Mercedes…well done.” She muttered, trudging back into the bedroom and reaching into her duffle bag for the pack of cigarettes she kept there.

There was no smoking in the house, though as she slowly descended the stairs, slipping one into her mouth, she realized that was another thing she no longer cared about.

As she rounded the banister and made a b-line for the kitchen, she could hear Bobby in the living room, yelling about smoking in the house but she continued unfazed. By the time she reached the kitchen table and sat down, she was staring stoically at the chair sitting half out at the head of the table. She could almost see Evelyn Mercer sitting there, hands in her lap, eyes kind and totally nonjudgmental.

This was Mercedes safe place. This was the table every problem she’d had I life had been brought to, along with a plate of cookies and milk (or a cold beer, depending on the problem) and been hashed out and talked over with Evelyn. She lit the cigarette and inhaled deeply, reaching for an empty plate and sliding it closer.

“I’m sorry Evie…house rules I know…” She whispered quietly, shutting her eyes against the pain. “I just…god I’ve had the year from hell…you know?” Mercedes wasn’t crazy, she knew perfectly well that Evelyn Mercer was not sitting in the chair in front of her…but as soon as she had entered this room Mercedes had felt at peace, the same way she’d felt as a little girl when Evelyn would scoop her up into her arms and hug her until she stopped crying….be it a scraped knee or a scraped ego. Evie was here… “I messed up Evie…I messed up so bad…and I…and I can’t figure this out on my own. God…why can’t you be here?” Her voice cracked then and she half sobbed half inhaled her cigarette, more tears forming in her eyes. “I’m lost…I don’t know what to do anymore. I feel so fucking-”

“Are you fucking smoking in my house?” Bobby’s voice boomed as he entered the kitchen, greeted only by the top of Mercedes head as it hung limp between her shoulders, and the cigarette that dangled from her left hand. “I’m talking to you! What the hell is the matter with you?” Still, silence was his only answer. As he opened his mouth in preparation for another onslaught, a noise echoed through the room that stopped him dead in his tracks. A sniffle, quiet but still audible and a silent sob that rocked Mer back in her chair as she tried to suppress it. “Mermaid?”

Mercedes didn’t know whether it was the kindness and concern in his voice or the fact that he had said her name but once more the dam broke. The chair fell from beneath her and all of a sudden she was curled up on the floor sobbing and clutching at Bobby as he pulled her into his arms.

They sat there on the floor, rocking back and forth as Mer cried. Bobby buried his face into her unkempt hair and murmured comforting words in her ear rocking her as she held on as if her life depended on it.

“Shhhhh Mermaid…easy….breathe.”

“He hates me…” She finally managed, her voice rising as the emotions began to take hold. “Bobby I fucked up so bad…he-he left and he’s gone and he’s not coming back I know it fuck…fuck…I fucked up so bad…Bobby…” Heavy footfalls echoed tentatively down the hall as Angel appeared in the kitchen doorway, brow furrowed in confusion. Bobby simply looked up and shook his head, asking silently that Angel not speak. Angel simply nodded, walking quietly into the room and sitting down in a kitchen chair.

“Shhh…” Bobby’s voice, though quiet, was strong and comforting. “Listen to me Mercedes…that boy loves you. There isn’t a damn thing in the world you could do to him that would make him stop loving you. I know him better than the kid knows himself and I’m telling you, he’ll be okay. You’ll be okay... I’m not going to ask what it is you did darlin’ but I need to know if it’s as bad as you’re making it sound or if you’re just being a girl.” The teasing note in his voice was anything but insulting and a small smile graced her features. Mercedes took a deep raspy breath in. Bobby’s hold on her never loosened as he continued to rock her back and forth on the cold linoleum floor. Finally, when he felt her grip on his arms loosen, he let go slightly and pulled back. His eyes were deep with concern as he regarded his little Mermaid, red and puffy, brushing the tears away slowly with the sleeve of Jack’s shirt.

“It’s worse…” She said, eyes downcast as she pulled from his grip and retrieved the cigarette that had fallen to the floor. Taking a slow drag, she aimed her face away from his and exhaled. “I’ve never seen him this upset…he just…he took off…I don’t even know where he went.”

“Well first of all…” Bobby, though his voice was kind, reached over and snatched the cigarette from Mer’s fingers and handed it up to Angel who promptly tossed it into the sink. “There is still no smoking in my house…Now look at me.” He reached down and tipped Mercedes’ chin up with a gentleness she hadn’t felt since she was a child. “If he’s upset as you think he is, I know where we can find him.”