Fix it
TRAVIS
Taylor's Mom arrives at 3pm, even though she was coming over for dinner. It's my first time meeting her, and it astounds me how much Taylor looks like her mother. They have the same blue eyes and blonde hair, and the same worried look on their face. She tells me her name is Andrea, and pulls me in for a hug. She's warm, and soft, and reminds me so much of my mom.
I asked Taylor if she was going to tell her about the abuse an hour ago. She just looked down and fiddled with her shirt until I realised she wasn't going to answer me. I left to make us lunch after a long silence, but she just stayed there, fiddling idly.
Andrea looks me in the eyes and I resist the urge to tell her everything and anything that's been weighing on me since the day I was born. She strikes me as the sort of person that could make you feel better with just a hug and a few words.
"So, how did you two meet?" She asks me, after talking with Taylor for a bit in another room.
I swallow, "um, we met at New Years, at a party. I'm friends with Nico, too, so we were at the Holiday House together."
She nods, and I notice Taylor hovering awkwardly, hugging herself.
"How come you're the friend that Taylor went to after breaking up with Calvin?" I feel the weight in her words. She says them softly, and with a smile, but there's layers of questions she's trying to ask under that one line. Did Taylor cheat on Calvin with you? Are you only being nice to her because you want to sleep with her? Have you already slept with her? Are you using my daughter?
I want to scream no no no NO to all of those invisible mini questions, but instead I shrug. "I was in the area."
I guess this is good enough for her, because she goes back to tending to Taylor like she's a wounded animal. Which I guess, she is.
It's not until Andrea goes to the bathroom that Taylor and I are left alone. I am consumed by the overwhelming urge to hold her tight and kiss her face, and show her what real love looks like. I don't do that, though. Instead I rake my fingers through my hair and take a deep breath.
"Travis," Taylor says, looking up at me with those big, sad eyes of hers.
"Yeah?"
"I think I want to."
My eyebrows crinkle. It takes me a second to realise she was finally answering the question I asked her this morning.
"You want to tell your Mom?"
She just nods slowly, but I can see something else on the tip of her tongue.
"Can you be there?" Her voice is small and shaky, but I can hear her just fine.
"Sure, I can." I say, and I mean it.
She nods once more and offers a quiet "thank you."
She spends the rest of the day urging her Mom to tell her about how her family is. Andrea tells Taylor they're all great but she keeps asking until Andrea lists what each and every one of her relatives are doing this very second.
I keep wondering when Taylor will tell her Mom about the abuse, but it's not till dinner that anyone even brings up Calvin at all. It was Andrea, in the end.
"So, how are you going to kick Calvin out of your house? Because you really ought to, you paid for it." She directs this comment at Taylor, who shrinks under he gaze.
"I don't know, Mom. I'll leave it for a bit, let it settle, you know?"
I nod to show that I agree with Taylor, but it doesn't even matter because Andrea doesn't look at me once. She's completely focused on Taylor and I don't blame her because I am too.
"Okay, darling. But if you need me to sort anything out, I can, okay?"
Taylor smiles softly, and her eyes flicker to mine. I return her smile, then look back at my food because her gaze convey a message that she doesn't need to say out loud.
I want to tell her now.
Taylor looks down at her plate, which she hasn't touched, and I can see her shoulders rise and fall as she takes a deep breath. "Mom, there- there's something I need to tell you."
Andrea's eyebrows knit together and she puts down her fork. "What's wrong?"
Taylor swallows and looks up at me. "Me and Calvin- um, Calvin and I, we.. I mean he.. he, um." She trails off and I watch as her hand goes down beneath the table cloth. She pinches her thighs and my heart tightens because she looks up at me with pure desperation in her eyes.
"What happened, sweet heart?" Andrea asks because I know she can sense it too. Sense the fear and the hurt and the thick smoke that surrounds her daughter, separating her from us. Separating her from goodness, and smothering her in the dark.
Taylor stutters a bit, and her eyes fill with tears. She looks up at me again and I bite my lip. Hard. Because I know she wants me to say it, and I don't know if I can. I practice inside my head but I don't know if I can say the word "Calvin" without throwing up and curling into a ball and dying, right here at the dinner table.
But I need to be strong because those big, sad eyes are looking at me, and they need my help.
"Do you want me to say it?" I ask gently, and Andrea's eyes flick between us. I long to be in her position; blissfully unaware. Unaware of the bruises and the sadness and the droplets of tears and blood and pain.
Taylor nods and blinks a few times, fiddling with the sleeve of her jumper that I found in my car this morning.
I clear my throat, and for the first time in hours Andrea's eyes are on me. They're strong and hard, screaming what happened to my daughter?!
I almost don't want to tell her, but I have to. For Taylor.
"Um, Calvin, he- he wasn't good to Taylor." A rock forms in my throat and I swallow it down. Andrea nods for me to continue, but there's fire behind her eyes.
"He- he hurt her." I say, "a lot."
Andrea's face contorts in pain and hatred and strong, fierce love. "What do you mean?" She whispers, but I know she knows exactly what I mean.
Taylor speaks up now, but her voice is quiet. "He hit me, Mom."
We sit in silence for a second, and the rock I swallowed down is now heavy in the bottom of my stomach and falling down down down.
Andrea finally processes what was said, and stands up abruptly. Taylor looks up from her sleeve as her Mom crosses the room and stands beside her. Her arms wrap around Taylor's shoulder, her head resting on the top of Taylor's.
"Oh, baby.." is all she says, and Taylor starts to sob into her mothers chest. Her body rocks as she chokes out cries, and I feel as if I may die. I feel like I shouldn't be here, shouldn't watch them, but I can't look away. Taylor is sad. Taylor is crying. Taylor is hurt and I can't fix it.
My heart burns and so do my eyes and now I am crying, too. I stand up and leave the room before they can see my tears. I go down the hall and find my room, falling down on my bed. I wrap my hands over my ears because I can still hear Taylor sobbing and it's killing me and she's hugging her Mom but my Mom's not here and I have no one to hug and I'm scared- I'm so scared because I can't fix this I can't fix this
I CAN'T FIX THIS
I lay in my bed and cry with my hands pressed hard against my ears until there are no tears left and I'm heaving, my body shaking with each sob. It's dark outside and I realise hours must have passed. I think about Taylor. I get up, wipe the tears off my cheeks with the back of my hand and make my way down the hallway. Taylor and Andrea are still in the dining room, except they're both sitting down now, and they're holding hands. Taylor has stopped crying too, but her eyes are red and puffy. They're talking softly.
"I'm going to go to bed, feel free to stay for as long as you like." I say, and my voice is hard and loud and it doesn't feel right in this room with quiet whispers from gentle women.
They both turn to me, and Taylor jumps a bit. I hate myself. Taylor has lived for years with a monster in her home and yet I'm the one that's weak and sore and broken.
Andrea says something but I don't hear her. I walk back to my room and shut the door gently. No more tears, Travis. No more. Now it's time to man up. Time to fix this.
I sit down on my bed and think about how Taylor looks like a cloud of darkness is consuming her. I try to make her life brighter but it's not fixing anything. I remember a quote I saw once on Instagram: the opposite of darkness isn't light, it's just no darkness.
Maybe I'm going about this all wrong. Maybe instead of adding little bits of light to her life, I need to take away everything bit of darkness that is already here. I need to take away her nightmares and her flinches and her sad, sad eyes, and pick away everything dark until there is only light left.
Yes, that's what I'll do.
I'm going to fix it.