Maggie

Regret is a tricky thing. Actually it's a prick really, Unyielding. Unchanging yet expandable in a way that continually kicks you while you are already so far down, you can't remember what it feels like to be up.
My own regrets run so deep, for so long now, I'm pretty sure I was never actually up at all.

This deep seeded remorse is the only constant reminder of that fateful day last week. Its the mind track that keeps replaying the fact that I ran into the last person on earth I never wanted to. What a fickle bastard chance is, there must be some cosmic reason we were both at the cemetery, at my sisters grave no less, at the exact same time. Right? Or is it just my continuing streak of bum luck. Yet again.

More likely.

I'm still waiting for the joke to sink in. For the press release to tell me it's all a carefully crafted facade. Some sort of charade to prove Ace has some sort of heart after all.
But like the sinking ship the rest of my life is, nothing tangible happens and i just keep keeping on, floating in the Dead Sea of my life, like nothing has changed. Just living my usual and hoping it was all a mirage. Especially the part where I agreed to let him see Jeb. At his house no less.

See? Nothing has altered. All is the same. Mundane. Nothing out of the normal here.

No one even seems to notice the way I'm literally melting from the anxiety on the inside. Because even though I want to pretend like nothing happened. It has.

In a huge way. In an astronomical way. It's just unseen. To the naked untrained eye nothing is going on. But in my turbulent mind, I'm constantly playing and replaying the conversation that lead me to agree to something so... so... stupid! I call temporary insanity. I must have had some kind of mini stroke. Because me. The normal me, would never in a million years have even let him speak to us. Let alone agree to go to his play boy mansion and play happy families.

Yeah. With the guy who I blame for my sisters death. Who belongs to the family of assholes who destroyed all of our lives!

Huffing and puffing behind the bar, I notice that some of the regulars have been watching my odd little one woman show and i try to shake it off.

Play it cool. Keep a lid on the crazy. Act like all is ok.
I think i can do it. No one seems to notice I'm having a break down over here.

No one except Able it seems, because he has watched me like a literal eagle since the night I returned to work after seeing Ace. Shouldering my new secret with the rest of my internal baggage. It's been a heavy six days and I know that he is trying to figure it out.

I have been evading all personal conversations with excuses of needing to get home to Jeb or work on my study for my online course.

But my time is running out.

I sneak a glance over the bar and before I even lift my eyes to meet his, I know they are on me.
It's not that I can't trust him. He is like family. He is more family than my actual real life relatives.

It's just the thought of saying it out loud, scares the actual living crap out of me. Because then it's real. It's out there.

And I might have to do it.

So far, I haven't heard from me big time NBA star and that is most likely because I hightailed it out of the cemetery without exchanging any phone or contact details and before he had a chance to realise.

Im no fool. He has money and probably some sort of assistant at his perusal. He will find me eventually. I'm just trying to figure out what I will do when that happens.

The more I think about his parents getting their filthy claws into Jeb, the more I revolt at the idea of letting any Maclaren near him.

But what can I do? It's not like I can run. We have next to no savings. Any wages I get go to rent and bills and his education. And I'm still paying back the hefty amount owed to the rehab place after Millie died.

Besides, Jeb doesn't deserve to be moving from this shit house town to another just like it. Barely scraping by. What kind of life is that for us?

Shit. But what's the alternative?

A pinching sensation around my bicep shocks me out of my reverie and I find myself being dragged out of the bar area, down the dark hallway and into the tiny room used by the staff.

"Able what the heck? I have to serve." I say, trying to gauge the expression on his face. Pensive. Pissed. But passive.

"Spill it girlie. I'm not sure what's going on in that head of yours but you are hiding something." He says, pointing his finger at me accusingly but with nothing but affection on his soft wrinkly face.

The face of a father figure.

I express a long breath and pull up one of the tattered old denim chairs. I sling myself into it as Able pulls up another and sits across from me. Waiting. Watching.

"Just tell me." He says, taking my hand and giving it a small squeeze.

"I have a... situation." I say quietly, assessing his expression.

"Ok. And, how much trouble are you in and how much will it cost me?" He says softly, his other hand clasping over both of ours.

I let out a small laugh. Always trying to help. I shouldn't be surprised. He is someone who can't help but help. It's ingrained in his very being. Kind to a fault. He was the one who paid my tuition for my online course. I pod him back of course. He is also the only one who didn't laugh when I said I wanted to be a drug and alcohol counsellor.

He supports me. He gets me. He loves me.

"It's not like that. I just... I need to get out of something and I don't know how." I say but I see the confusion on his face.

"Does this have anything to do with that Ace basketball  fellow calling here for you this week?" He says and this time it's my face wearing the confusion.

"He what?! " I shout, pulling my hands from his and gripping the seat below me. Sweat begins to form on my face and under my arms. I'm such a bloody nervous sweater. I was constantly teased for it in school.
Not by Ace though.

I shove that thought down. I only want to think bad things about him.

"He called. A lot. Asking for you." He murmurs, pulling me back to the present, keeping his eyes trained on mine.

"Shit a brick." I say and he slaps at my hand.

"No need for the cussing. We work in a titty bar but we can still be civil." He says and I nod. He hates the swears.

I hop up and grab a few tissues from the makeup counter slash kitchen area and stick them under my arms.
Turing to face him I take a deep breath and just let it all fall out.

"I took Jeb to see Millie and he was there. Ace. At her grave. It doesn't take a genius to figure out the timeline of Jeb's life and for gods sake, that boy is the image of his father. I knew it would come out one day. I just... I just wasn't ready." I blurt out. Adding "I'm scared." As an after thought but really, it's the only thought. The main thought.

Fear. Of Ace. Of what power he possesses. Of what he could do to us. Take from us. From me.

I sit forward on the seat, stretching my legs out under the table and sliding my arms forward until I can lay my head on them. My forehead sinks though my arms and lays against the cool laminate of the tacky lime table top.

Able takes it all in. His stout fingers stroking his poor excuse for a beard. The small spattering of ginger hairs amongst the grey becoming more and more prominent as he ages.

"Well damn girlie. That's a pickle and a half. What does he want? " He asks gently, patting me on the arm and waiting for me to reply.

"He wants to see Jeb. Wants to get to know him I guess. We didn't talk much. I just blurted it all out and agreed to a visit and then I bailed." I whimper at the end, lifting my head to catch his reaction.

"Ok." Is all he says.

I wait for more but it never comes.

"Ok?" I ask, sure I'm missing something.

"Yeah. Ok. Why not? I mean, maybe he can help out a bit you know.? " He asks gingerly but I shake my head fast. Side to side and repeatedly.

"No way. No damn way. I don't want a cent from him. From them. You know what they did to us."

The volume of my voice is growing steadily. Luckily we work in a noisy bar.

"You said him, maybe he won't involve those two morons?" He says, spitting the last words out. His distaste for Aces parents is almost as sour as my own.

"At first. Maybe. Maybe he won't tell them. But they will find out. They have their hands in all the pockets in these places. It's only a matter of time. Abe, I would never forgive myself if they got their hands on Jeb." I say, a loan tear betraying my strong hold and slipping down my cheek.

He signs audibly and stands to kneel beside me.

"Girlie, you know I don't like that family. But this guy, you two used to be friendly right? The four of you? Have you seen him lately? On the tv? It's like looking in a mirror darlin. You two. You are twins. The same broken expression. The same emptiness. You are both lost. Have you ever thought that maybe he needs this, needs Jeb, as much as you do?" His voice hitches at the end and I feel my tears start to dry.

This was not expected at all.

"You think I should let him see him?" I ask incredulously. I thought he would tell me to tell Ace to take a hike or scram or maybe even fuck off.

Not this.

"I think you should see what he has to say. Think it over. He is not his parents. He lost his brother like you lost Millie." He adds but I barely hear it over the wild whooshing sound of my blood flowing through my veins. Like venom. Like lava.

And suddenly it spews forth.

"What the hell Abe? Since when are you team Ace? You know what they did to me. To my family. They took everything from us. They lied. He lied." I'm yelling but he doesn't even flinch.

"And here is your chance to talk to him about it. You four, you were close. Closer than close. It's all you ever talk about when you bring up Millie. Ace and Seb, they were your family too." He says, tracking towards me in the tiny space, slowly, inch by inch, like a predator approaching injured prey.

Because that is how i feel right now. Injured. Broken.

"Yes. They were. Until Ace lied and started a chain reaction that ruined everything. He didn't put the needle in her arm Abe, but he might as well have."

I'm yelling again. Or crying. Or both. I'm not sure but the door briefly opens and I hear Abe mumbling to someone behind me as the music gets loud and then soft again as the door is closed and he makes his way over to squat next to me.

"Maggie, this is the time to finally face it all. You have been hiding girl. From them. From the pain. From all of it. For too long. You knew this would happen one day. It needs to. And you are forgetting that you hold all the cards. Do it your way. Slowly. Controlled. Get yourself bearings and then get your answers. And think about Jeb."

"I always think about Jeb." I say with a sob. How dare he say that to me.

He just nods and continues.

"I know you do. You are a damn good momma to that boy. But this is his chance to know about his daddy. About his family. Don't you want that for him?" He asks carefully, the timbre of his voice low and steady.

He waits. Allowing me to take it in. The sulk in me wants to rant and rave. I want to tell him that Ace doesn't deserve us. That's it's too little too late.

But I know that a deeper part of me knows that Abe is right. In high school, Ace was golden. Beautiful. Strong. Fierce. He had a laugh and a smile that lit up the room. That lit up my life. Or, I thought he did.

I don't see that anymore. This show he puts on for the cameras. It's like his big fancy truck.

Too shiny. Too big. Too much. Too fake.
It's not him. It's not him at all.

And seeing the way he looked at the grave. So broken. So dull.

Maybe it's not just me who has suffered all these years.

Damn Abe. He got me.

The tension in the tiny space evaporates as fast as it arrived and Abe slowly eases his round form back into the chair next to me. He slides a shot glass in front of me, filling it with his own stash of single malt and then holds up the flask to me.

"Damn you." I say, clanking my glass to his flask and sinking the drink down my throat.

The burn suffices and I already feel lighter. Settled. More than I have in a while.

His low chuckle softens my hurt and I lean into his shoulder.

"You owe this to yourself darlin. Take a chance. Get some closure and move on. Move away. It's time." He says, placing a soft kiss on my temple and handing me a folded piece of white paper before he leaves the room.

I blink away the remaining tears and reach into my pocket for my phone. As I unfold the paper and look at the digits scribbled on the small square, I know I'm about to set in motion an enormous event of change.

But Abe is right. It's time.

I send a simple text, just my name and hi.

The reply is instant.

Mags. Thanks.

Here goes nothing.