Letters From The Ledge (5 page)

He didn’t move a muscle except for a slight raise in one eyebrow as he watched her stand and wait. "I knew I liked your spunk. You’ve got fire fresh out of the gate, but you’ll need to learn how to handle the bit before you’ll be fit for the board room."

She didn’t respond–not a movement, not a word. Inside she was seething–astronomically infuriated at his pompous gall. Frank left his drink on the desk and walked out.

__________

“Brendan?”

“Yeah.”

“This is Tommy.”

Brendan was silent. He almost dropped the phone.

“Tommy Mahoney. I’m Tess’s brother.”

“Yeah. I know who you are. What’s up?”

“I–was wondering if you could meet me. I have something for you.”

“When?”

“Is now a good time? My mom’s not here so I can get out of the house pretty easily.”

Brendan scrunched up his forehead. “Ok. I’m…just hangin’ down at Washington Park. Can you come here?”

“Sure. Like twenty minutes or so?”

“Ok.”

Brendan hung up and started walking one of the tree-lined paths. He ducked into some particularly dense brush along the way and sat up against a thick tree trunk, banging his head back a couple of times until it cleared enough to roll the joint.

He took a long drag and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the memories, but Tess’s face came rolling through on waves that wouldn’t stop breaking the shore of his heart. He took another long drag, wishing for a blade. Tears came uninvited, and he let them fall. For the first time since the funeral he let them follow their own path downward.

By the time he made his way out of the brush and back onto the path, he wasn’t sure how much time had gone by, or if he’d missed Tommy altogether. He found a bench out in the open and sat down with his iPod, closed his eyes, and tried desperately to lose feeling altogether.

"Hey! Guess what?"

Brendan felt a nudge on his foot, hit the pause button and opened his eyes, expecting to see Tommy Mahoney.

Instead, Sarah was looking down at him. She was waving a paper in front of his face. "I got a ‘B’!"

He wasn’t in the mood for perky. "Yippee."

Sarah scrunched up her forehead. "What’s wrong with you?”

He spoke in an exaggerated girl-voice that mocked her statement the day before. "Why should you care?"

She folded her arms across her chest. "I don’t. I was just getting a burger and I was surprised to see you here. You don’t seem like the hang out at the park type. No dog, no Frisbee. Not even a newspaper.”

It was true, he was empty handed, but his pockets held enough entertainment for a fun-filled day at the park. “I’m meeting someone.”

“Ok. Well, I just came over here to say ‘thank you’."

"And now you have."

Her hands went to her hips.

“Pout much?”

She looked horrified. "You know what? I thought maybe you were different. Turns out I was wrong."

He looked back at her with cold eyes. "Yeah? Well, get used to it. It turns out we were all wrong. About pretty much everything."

"What’s that supposed to mean?"

"You know what? Why don’t you go back to your preppy friends, ok? You tried slumming and you got what you needed. Now leave me alone."

"Slumming? Right. You with your hundred dollar jeans and Eddie Bauer backpack. You’re not fooling anyone wearing the same shirt every day but still smelling like Downy, you know that? Besides, I didn’t ask for your help. You’re the one who offered, remember?"

Brendan kept silent.

"You’re really smart, you know? You could be anything! Why are you wasting your life?"

"Go-a-way!"

"Who did this to you?"

"Did what?"

"Made you hate yourself so much?"

"You don’t know shit."

Sarah just nodded. "You’re right. I don’t know shit. I guess we have that in common." She started to walk away but stopped and turned. "Thanks for your help."

Brendan leaned his head back and closed his eyes, switching the music back into play mode. Screamo lyrics filled his head and everything else faded away, until Tommy shoved his shoulder.

“Dude, how wasted are you? I’ve been calling your cell for like, the last twenty minutes!”

Brendan turned off the music and sat up. He looked down at Tommy’s lap. Tommy looked too. They were both silent. Brendan couldn’t swallow, suddenly afflicted with a wicked case of dry mouth.

Finally Tommy spoke. “Listen, I know it’s been almost a year, but my mom’s still a mess. She won’t even go in Tess’s room, but I spend a lot of time in there when she’s not around. She was my big sister, and I–I loved her. Being in her room makes me feel like she’s still around somehow. Is that weird?”

Brendan shook his head.

“Anyway, I know she didn’t leave a note, but I still think she knew what she was doing. I found this box under her bed.”

Brendan looked down at the large, square box and his eyes glassed over. It was beautiful. Typical Tess. She’d drawn intricate pictures all over the top of the box and hidden words and symbols within the drawing, then colored it all over and sprayed the top with a clear coat. It was a work of art. The only thing that marred the top of the box was a small rectangle where it looked like a piece of tape had been torn away.

Tommy rubbed his thumb over the tear. “There was a letter attached to the top of the box. I thought maybe it was her note, so I read it, but it was to you.”

He was holding the opened envelope in his hands, sliding its length back and forth through his delicate, freckled fingers. Finally he handed it to Brendan, and then set the box in his lap as well. “The box is for you too. She wanted you to have it. My mom would kill me if she knew I gave this away but she doesn’t know it exists yet and…I think that’s what Tess would have wanted.”

Brendan stared at the box for a long time. It felt like a lead weight on his legs, and he couldn’t tell if its mass was real or imagined. Tommy got up and started to walk away, then turned and stopped. Brendan looked up at him, willing back the tears with everything in him. Tommy was already crying.

“I really miss her, you know?”

Brendan swallowed hard and nodded.

“She may have hated her life, but she loved you Brendan. She did. You’ll see.”

Tommy turned back around and walked away. Brendan wiped a hand across his face and shifted several times on the bench, trying desperately not to come completely out of his skin. He couldn’t open the letter. Or the box. He had to get home.

“I’d rather sell my nuts to a castrati.”

-
Life As A House

Where r u? Did u

forget dinner?

Why don’t u

answer your phone?

Love, Nate

Paige had been buried in the computerized records of Evans and Associates all afternoon when the distinctive hip-hop backbeat pulled her out of the haze of numbers. She wiped a hand over her face and noticed the sun setting in the distance. Startled, she grabbed the phone out of her purse and caught Nate’s text message before hitting the speed dial.

He picked up on the first ring. "Where are you? Are you ok?"

"I am so sorry! I’ve been buried in this mess all afternoon. I’ll tell you all about it later. I promise I’m leaving right now. Forgive me?" She picked up her purse and briefcase, shutting the computer down as she spoke.

"Of course I forgive you. I just miss you is all."

She imagined the way his face looked as he was talking and her heart melted some of the hard shell she’d had in place to survive Frank’s office all day. She smiled into the phone. "Are you still at the restaurant?"

"Yeah, but we might want to skip dinner. I’m pretty full on breadsticks and water already."

"Haha. I’m on my way."

His laughter was contagious. "Take your time. I’m not going anywhere."

"K. See you soon."

The secretary Frank had assigned to her sat at a desk nearby. She looked capable but completely bored. She hadn’t given the poor girl one thing to do all afternoon. "Do I need to lock this or just shut the door?"

The perky brunette snapped into action. "Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it."

"Thanks."

"See you on Monday, Ms. Hadley."

"We’ll see about that.” The elevator doors closed on her words and she immediately dialed Kevin’s cell. "What the hell have you done to me?"

"Paige?"

"Yes Kevin, it’s me. Tell me, why do I suddenly feel like I’ve been traded to the Yankees?"

"Calm down Paige." Kevin’s tone was condescending and much too ‘older brother’ for her liking.

"No, you calm down!" She hushed her voice as the doors opened at the next floor and several people got on. "Apparently they’re expecting me to be here every
day from now on. I have my own office, did you know that? I have my own computer. I have my own
secretary
, for God’s sake and I-am-on-their-payroll!” She had trouble keeping her voice down and people were starting to look at her as if she’d lost it. They weren’t far from the mark. She tried to hush her voice slightly but the edge wouldn’t leave. “Hell, Kevin they treat me better than you do. Are you trying to get rid of me?"

"What are you talking about?"

"And here I thought we were just going to save Private Ryan and get the heck out of dodge. Now I’m stuck behind enemy lines, taking fire, and I find out
you’re
the one who ordered the ambush!" She was approaching hysterical, but she didn’t really care.

"Ambush? Come on now, you're overreacting."

"Am I?"

"Yes, you are." Kevin used his deliberately calm, soothing voice, which made her even more angry.

"Don’t you patronize me!” She spoke through closed teeth. “If I wanted to work in a cushy little corner office in Trump Plaza for mister barracuda over here I’d have sent him my resume. I can’t believe you let him blindside me like that! I thought we were friends."

"Wait–did you say you were on his payroll?"

"You should have seen how smug he was this morning, like he’d
bought
me and I was his to play with. He said the two of you had it
all
worked out!"

Kevin’s side of the phone was silent.

"Are you still there?"

"Are you finished Paige?"

All the venom she’d been saving up had been released and the relief was almost immediate. She blinked twice and was suddenly much calmer. "Yes. I think so."

"Good, because I need to tell you what happened on my end."

"Ok." Paige hailed a cab and gave the driver the address of the restaurant. It wasn’t far but she didn’t feel like running and Nate was already waiting.

"Frank called me up and offered to let you work over there in an office that was already set up with a computer and the accounting software they’ve been using. Since we’d otherwise cleared your schedule it just made sense to have you work over there for the duration of the job."

"Yes, but–"

"Now if you don’t want to do that, we’ll try to find another way. It just seemed like he’d gone out of his way to make it easy for you, and silly me, I thought that you’d appreciate that. As for the payroll issue, this is the first I’ve heard of it. I’ll have to look into that."

"What I would
appreciate
, Kevin, is a little advanced notice next time I’m going to be left dangling over the piranha tank. You could’ve at least talked to me, instead of letting me go in cold like that."

"You're right. I'm sorry. I didn't know it was going to be such a big deal."

"After the way he behaved over drinks the other night, you had to have known what I’d be walking into. You could’ve given me half a chance. Instead, you cut my legs out from under me and…"

"Alright! Paige, stop! I get it, ok? I will take care of it. I’ll see if I can get him to send the stuff over."

"It’s too late. He won’t."

"What do you mean he won’t?"

"I mean, he won’t. I already asked him.”

“Oh.”

“You want to know what else he told me?"

Kevin sighed audibly. "I can’t imagine."

Paige relaxed a little more. Most of the steam had been vented and she was starting to find the situation so outlandish that it bordered on comical. She barely got the words out in between snickers. "He said I needed to learn how to hold the bit in my mouth before I’d be fit for the board room."

"Maybe he likes horses."

"Or maybe he’s an
ass
."

"Were you mean to him?"

"Why would you ask me that? I was the picture of professionalism. I’m only mean to you." She teased.

"I’ll talk to him–see what I can do."

Paige shook her head and glanced up to see the cab driver watching her in the rear view mirror. He stopped in front of the restaurant and she was thankful to pay him and get out of the cab.

"Don’t bother. It’ll just give him more fuel. I just wanted you to know you owe me one."

"Like you’d ever let me forget."

"Listen, I have to go. I’m meeting Nate for dinner. And by the way, I’m turning my phone off for the weekend."

"Goodnight Paige."

"Goodnight Kevin."

__________

Nate could see the door from his seat. Paige walked toward him, holding her cell phone and waving her free arm in exaggerated motions. She flipped the phone closed just as she got to the table.

"You know, you make a really cute psychopath. I used to have a thing for psychopaths."

"Very funny."

"What was that all about?"

Paige plunked down in her chair and related the whole story, starting with her interaction with Frank earlier that morning. The knots in his stomach came back with a vengeance, and the horse comment put him right over the edge. By the time she was finished he’d completely lost his appetite.

"Did you really tell Frank to get out of your new chair?"

She half-smiled and blushed a little. "Yes."

"Kings to you!" Nate laughed. "Count of Monte Christo?”

She nodded.

“Did he get it?”

Her hand skimmed the top of her hairline. “Right over his head.”

“Now
that’s
funny."

"I’m not without my finer points."

Her coy smile made his heart ache. "Don’t I know it." He smiled and took a sip of his water. "So, tell me why you’re really upset."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it’s not like it’s an abnormal sort of business practice. Accountants use their clients’ computers and go to their offices to do work for them all the time. If it was anybody else, I might be sitting here wondering why you’re getting so worked up about this."

"What, you and Kevin are on the same team now?"

"Hardly! And that's not fair."

"You think it’s normal for me to get shoved off onto Frank’s payroll so that he can increase his credibility?"

"No, the payroll thing is a little over the top. Must be something he and Kevin had worked out on the side."

"Kevin claims he didn’t know anything about that part."

"That wouldn’t surprise me."

"Why not?"

Nate put his arms up on the table. "Because I know men like him, Paige. They ask for forgiveness instead of permission, then grease the wheel to stop it from squeaking."

"You think he’s offering Kevin quiet money?"

"No, and I doubt Kevin would take it even if he did. I may not like Kevin, but I don’t think he’s cutting deals with Frank. It’s more likely a really generous contract with the promise of more ‘sends’ if he’s happy with the service."

"Come to think of it, that’s exactly what Kevin told me yesterday." She stirred her drink absently, focusing on the wallpaper.

"How about if we don’t talk about your day anymore. It’s Friday night and we have the whole weekend ahead of us. Let’s forget Frank Evans, forget Kevin, forget everything else except you and me and a nice bottle of…" he picked up the wine list and scanned it quickly "Sauvignon Blanc?"

"You hate white wine."

"Good point. How about a compromise–a dry rosé?"

“Make it two and you’ve got yourself a deal."

__________

When Brendan got home he went outside and straddled the ledge with a fresh joint and the box between his legs. He stared at it for a long time, waiting until he was good and numb before he pulled the letter out of his back pocket. Although the envelope was plain, the stationary had doodled images all around the edges, as if she’d sat for hours, composing both the artwork and the words in alternating sessions.

Dear Brendan,

If you’re reading this letter I suppose things have gone from bad to worse. I’m writing it just in case. I’ve been working on this box since the day we met. I use it to store my artwork and poetry and journals. I guess I want you to have them because you’re the only one who knew the real me. If my mom ever knew this stuff she’d probably have a heart attack. Or worse. She’d probably kill him. God knows I wish I could.

I know you’re probably mad at me for leaving. Maybe once you’ve read my journals you’ll understand why I just couldn’t stay.

But first, there are a few things I need you to know…

Brendan stopped reading. The words had melted into a liquid blur. All these months of questioning, all the wondering–it was all here. In his possession was a box full of information that would likely fill in the gaps and help him to wrap his brain around the whys of her death. And yet, there was really only one question that mattered, and Tommy had already answered it. He wiped his face again and read on:

First of all, and probably most importantly, I need you to know that I love you. My mother always said that a friend’s eye is a good mirror. Through you I saw myself in ways I couldn’t fathom. Knowing you taught me to hope in people. Your friendship saved me from myself so many times, but that doesn’t give you the right to blame yourself for my decision. It was mine to make, and no one else’s.

I think I was put on this earth for a reason, and it must have been so that I could meet you. But I can hear the angels calling to me Brendan, and I want to go to them. I want so much to fly away…

I’m so tired of fighting. Tired of having to hide in my own house, always looking over my shoulder. When he’s done with me he beats me now, and the beatings are getting worse. I hurt all the time. This is no way to live, and yet I’ve seen what it’s like on the streets. The only difference between that and this is choice, and I just couldn’t live with myself if I had to choose it to survive. I hope that some day you can understand that.

I guess I only have one regret, and it’s a little embarrassing to admit, but I wish we’d kissed. I knew you wanted to be more than friends. I wanted that too, but I just couldn’t get close like that without thinking of the other. If I could have my innocence back, I would definitely want my first kiss to be you. You’ve been waiting for me since we were freshmen, through braces and AA cups and on through to now, but I want you to listen to me: I don’t want you to wait any longer.

We’re seventeen Brendan. You need to kiss a girl. You need to be with someone who can love you back. You used to tell me that your mouth went dry when you looked at me. I would tease you that it was just the pot, but I knew exactly what you meant. Find someone who makes your mouth go dry and kiss her and give your heart to her and don’t let her go. Promise me you will. Please.

Lastly, I want you to promise me you won’t try to kill him. He’s twice your size and he’s a mean son of a bitch. Believe me. I know you’ve got an angry side and I have to warn you, my journals are pretty raw. I didn’t exactly plan on anyone reading them when I started writing it all down, but I’m trusting you with this information, so please, don’t do anything stupid. You’ll end up rotting in jail or trying to jump after me and I’m telling you neither one of those are worth it.

You’re smart and funny and creative–don’t waste your life on anger and self-pity. Do the thing that makes you happy Brendan, and whatever you do, don’t settle for someone else’s dreams. Write your own story.

My priest says that God can’t forgive suicide, but if he can forgive what’s been done to me, then he’s going to have to forgive what I’ve done too, right?

Know that I loved you. And if it’s possible at all, I’ll be watching out for you. Me and the angels, that is…

All my heart,

Tess