Devon Hartford - Painless

What the hell? My heart was jumping in my chest. Images of Christos in a drunken car crash flashed through my head. So why were my parents calling me? They wouldn’t be the first to know if he got hurt. Would they? No, that didn’t make any sense.

So why were they calling?

I frowned. I could hazard a guess.

Did I even want to answer their call? They were probably going to bitch me out again. I sighed dramatically and answered my phone on the fourth ring, sounding irritated. “Hello?”

“Sam?”

“Dad?”

My dad cleared his throat.

I winced.

“Sam, I’m calling to inform you that your mother has moved out.”

“What?” I was totally confused.

“She’s taken an apartment in Friendship Heights. And she has taken a lover.”

“What? Dad! What are you talking about? You aren’t making any sense.” My stomach, which had imploded, said otherwise. Every organ in my body had been sucked into the black hole forming in my abdomen.

“Your mother is seeing someone,” he said flatly. “Another man.”

“What do you mean seeing? Like for a meeting or class or something? I know she’s always talking about taking tennis lessons at the country club.”

“Sam, your mother is having an affair. With another man.”

Silence punched me in the stomach. That black hole wasn’t the only thing hammering away at me. Every atom in the universe was rushing at me in a super nova of impending disaster.

Some detached corner of my brain shouted inside my head, “Who cares! Mom is lame! You’re lame!” But that voice was thin and tinny, drowned out by the cosmic thunderstorm that was unwinding inside me.

After more silence, I finally spoke in a mumble, “Mom is having an affair?” Tears dripped down my cheeks against my approval.

“Yes.”

“With another man?”

“Yes. Someone she knew in college. He rides a motorcycle,” Dad said with no hint of irony.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” I stammered.

“Yes, it does,” he said softly.

I sat down in my desk chair. I should say, I fell down where I was standing and was lucky that my chair happened to be behind me, because I didn’t stop to think what I was doing. I just collapsed when the strength left my legs.

Then dozens of disjointed memories all crashed together in my head. My mom had made it clear months ago that she thought Christos was not the kind of guy who stuck around. And she’d made it sound like she’d had experience with guys like him. Was the guy my dad was talking about some guy from Mom’s past who’d jilted her and made her so bitter about bad boys? But now she had gotten back together with him?

I could only wonder.

I wasn’t about to ask my dad for details. I’m sure the guy my mom was sleeping with wasn’t Dad’s favorite topic of conversation at the moment.

And then a memory of my mother’s words from February crashed through my brain:

“Not yet you aren’t. But you will be! Give it six months, maybe a year, and he’ll knock you up! Then he’ll be gone! Just like that! Make sure you have enough saved up for the abortion!”

She’d said it like she was speaking from experience. Was that possible?

Of course it was.

I suddenly remembered that growing up, people were always saying how much I looked like my mom. Nobody ever said I looked like my dad. And, my dad had always seemed so different and weird to me, I had a hard time believing we were related.

What if my mom had never gotten that abortion and had married dependable Bill Smith instead?

Was it possible that my dad wasn’t my biological dad?

Was I some other guy’s daughter?

Holy shit.

It was entirely possible.

No, that was crazy.

But it was all adding up.

What. The. Fuck.

Oh, gosh, it all sounded so desperately stupid. But why did it make so much sense?

I shook my head. Did it even matter? My mom was cheating on my dad and had already moved into an apartment. That much was fact.

Fuck.

I didn’t need three guesses to figure out where that went.

Just when my life had been expanding with good vibes like a colorful birthday balloon, BAM! My parents popped a needle in me and took it all away. More precisely, my mom.

My damn mom.

Every single damn time.

“I’m so sorry, agápi mou,” Christos said as he hugged me where we sat on the couch in the living room. “I know how hard it is when your parents split.”

I’d waited two hours for Christos to come home, crying my eyes out the entire time on the couch in the dark. I was somewhat surprised I was so sad my mom had left, but I wasn’t at all surprised by my anger at her. That was normal and familiar. But this sense of loss and I guess betrayal was new and made me uncomfortable. A part of me said the only feeling I should have for my mom right now was hatred.

But, no matter how much of a bitch she was, she was still my mom.

Fuck! I hated feeling this way.

“What are you going to do?” Christos asked softly. Although he’d been out with Jake for hours, I could tell he hadn’t had much to drink. He wasn’t even buzzed. I had that much to be grateful for.

“What can I do?” I asked rhetorically. “My mom left my dad. Period.”

“Do you need to fly home to see your parents? I’ll totally understand if you do. I can come with you if you want.”

I looked at him, tears dripping down my cheeks. I blotted them with a tissue from the box Christos had brought me. “I don’t know if that’ll make any difference. Besides, finals are coming up in a few weeks. I feel like if I went home, it would screw up all my classes and I’d have to withdraw and retake everything.” Agony and indecision swept over me. “Oh, Christos. I don’t know what to do!” I leaned into his chest and sobbed against him.

He caressed the top of my head and murmured, “Whatever you want to do, you let me know, and I’m there for you, agápi mou.”

I twisted my fingers into the material of his T shirt. I looked up at him desperately, “I don’t know what I’d do without you, agápi mou.”

“Hush,” he whispered. “You’re never going to have to find out. I’ll always be here for you.”

I couldn’t begin to fathom the kind of crazy person I’d become if Christos were to do what my mom had done to my dad. My gosh, what was my dad going through right now? I couldn’t even imagine. Was he mad? Sad? Did he hate my mom? Was he desperately wishing she’d come to her senses and come back to him? Probably all of those things.

I gazed up at Christos, my eyes pleading for comfort and reassurance. I asked him meekly, in a vulnerable voice that was on the edge of shattering into fragile shards, “Are you sure?”

Christos cupped my cheek and caressed the side of my face. “Yes. I’m not going anywhere, agápi mou. Ever.”

Looking into his loving blue eyes, I believed him with all my heart. The wave of energy that passed from my heart to his was confirmation.

He smoothed a lock of my hair behind my ear. That simple gesture of affection was so powerful, I broke into fresh sobs and collapsed into his muscled chest. In his arms, I felt safe. Protected. I never wanted to leave them.

I wept quietly for awhile, letting it out.

Eventually, I sniffed and said, “I think the guy my mom is seeing might be my father.”

“What?” Christos gasped.

I cringed now that I’d said it out loud. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m crazy. But my mom said all these things about you like she’d had experience with her own bad boy when she was young, and it got me thinking. Maybe this guy she’s seeing got her pregnant twenty years ago. With me. My dad said this guy is from her college days and he is a bad boy. Maybe it’s the same guy from when she was young and she wants to get back together with him now that I’m out of the house? Because she doesn’t need my dad anymore?”

“Wow, that’s insane,” Christos said.

“You’re right. I’m crazy.” I shook my head. “I’m making it sound like a soap opera storyline. It’s too crazy to be true. Right?” Desperate thoughts pulsed in my head, Please tell me I’m crazy, please tell me my reasoning is idiotic. Please please please…

Christos sighed, “Who knows. People do crazy shit. Anything is possible.”

I clutched his T shirt and heaved a painful sob, “You don’t think it’s true, do you?”

“I have no idea, agápi mou,” he said softly. “But whatever the truth turns out to be, I’ll be by your side through all of it.”

I burrowed further into his arms and sobbed.

At the moment, I was desperately afraid, half insane, but above all things, grateful I had Christos.

SAMANTHA

Denial quickly became my best friend. It was the only way I could function and stay sane. I did my best to block out any thoughts of my parents’ crumbling marriage and focused on school and my new job.

Kamiko and I were eating lunch at the Adams College Cafeteria.

“What’s the Samantos status?” Kamiko asked before popping a french fry into her mouth.

“The what?”

“You and Christos? Duh.”

“Samantos?” I scoffed. “That sounds like a breath mint.”

“The fresh maker!” Kamiko quipped.

I chuckled, “We’re good.”

“How are his paintings coming along? Does he still have a parade of models coming in and out of the studio every day?”

“No. He’s, uh, changed directions.” I wasn’t quite comfortable telling Kamiko that Christos was painting me nude.