Six Going on Seven, Chapter 8 ~ Secrets, part 2

“What?”  She made a face as if he were being silly.

“There’s nothing you haven’t told me . . . that I should know, right?”

“Why are you asking me that?”  Liseli turned back to her work.

“I don’t know.  I just have a weird feeling . . . like there is something.”  She was silent, and he reached out, brushing her hair away from her face and tucking it behind her ear.  “Is there?”

She turned her head away and took a step to the side . . . a small step that would be inconsequential if it didn’t move her out from his touch.  He drew his hand back, feeling burned, rejected.  She didn’t want his concern or his conversation or his touch — maybe she was still mad at him for leaving and maybe she’d grown too fond of not having him around, but she didn’t want to talk to him, or even look at him.  And then there was the Lie between them — the Lie that there weren’t any secrets, that after ten years of living together and seven of marriage, they both knew all the big things about each other and most of the small ones.  How Elly Ann knew more he didn’t understand, but she did know something he’d never even considered.  She did.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Liseli huffed, scrunching her shoulders as if the weight of his gaze was making her skin crawl.

“Like what?” he shot back, knowing he sounded petulant.  She refused to look at him, how could she know how he was looking at her?

She shook her head, stirring the waffle batter as if to beat it into submission. “Wounded puppy dog eyes.  The patented, Poor-Little-Rusty-‘Why-are-you-being-so-mean-to-me?’ look.  And don’t give me that dumb shrug, you know exactly what I mean.”  Her eyes never left the bowl in front of her.

“You’re shaking again.”

“I am not.”  She let go of the spoon and crossed her arms, trying to hide the trembling.

“What are you hiding from me?” he asked bluntly.  She was too flighty not to be keeping something from him.  Not to be lying.

“You’re the one who disappears without warning, and stays away because you supposedly ‘got lost’; shouldn’t I be the one asking these sorts of questions?”

Her words bit, but he was too sure of her Lie to be distracted by his own guilt.  Russ stepped toward her and gripped her shoulders, twisting her to face him.  He expected to meet defiance or anger, but she looked almost scared as she relented and looked him in the eye.  It only lasted a moment before she looked to the side, fixing her gaze on the floor.  He didn’t say anything . . . couldn’t think of anything to say.

“I don’t want to talk about this right now,” she spoke quietly, but made no move to twist away from him.

“Why not?  If not now, when?” he said impatiently, then forced himself to take a breath and try again, more gently, “Liseli, look at me . . . it’s me . . . I’m your husband, c’mon . . . .”  He released one shoulder to reach up and stroke her cheek, coaxing her to look at him.  “What could be so bad that you couldn’t tell me?”

She shook her head slightly.

“Well?  What do you think I’m gonna do?  I just don’t . . . are you afraid of telling me?  Or d’you just not wanna talk to me?  What is it?  Should I just fuck off?  I don’t . . . .”

He paused again; she was shaking her head to everything he said, but still wouldn’t look up at him or speak.  “God, Liseli, don’t cold shoulder me.  Scream or tell me it’s all my fault but say something.”

“It’s just . . . ” her voice shook, sounding on the verge of tears.  She looked at him but her gaze skittered away, and she restlessly scanned the countertop before returning to his face.  It had been a long time since he’d seen Liseli sick with fear, but there was no other way to explain her darting glances and the way her freckles stood out on her pale cheeks.  “I’m just not . . . prepared to . . . well—” she fluttered one hand toward the bowl “—I’m making waffles, and the boys are watching cartoons, and now you’re . . . all of a sudden . . . it’s not fair.  You can’t d-do this to me.”

“I’m not doing anything to you.”  Russ spread his hands out.  “I asked you a question.  A ‘yes’ or ‘no’ question.  That’s all.”

She turned slightly as if to walk away, but pivoted back again and spoke without stammering, a spark of defiance returning to her eyes.  “Fine, yes I’ve kept secrets from you, no I haven’t told you everything that I could have.  Should have.  Whatever.  Is that what you wanted to know?”

“I want to know what it is.”

She shook her head slightly, lips a thin line, but he knew she would tell him if he persisted.  She would have no choice.  He brushed the stray curls behind her ear again and gently tilted her chin up toward him, meeting her eyes.

Liseli put her hands on his chest and for a moment he thought she was going to shove him into the cupboard and leave the room.  But she didn’t; her touch remained light and she moved closer to him, inviting him to put his arms around her, which he did.

“I haven’t told you about this, because I wanted to forget, I wanted it to go away.”  She bit her lip, looking at her hands on his chest instead of meeting his eyes.  “But it hasn’t worked that way.”

“Just tell me.”

“I lost a baby, a long time ago.  Ten years ago.  Ten years ago, tomorrow.”

 . . . The Lost One.  I don’t know, she doesn’t have a name.  But Mom only worries about us because she couldn’t save her . . . .

“Our baby?” he heard himself ask before he could stop the words.

Liseli’s head snapped up and she drew away.  “Of course our baby, who else’s baby?  You’re the only man I’ve ever been with, I’ve told you that before.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” he tried reaching out for her again, but she turned from him and walked over the table, where she sat down with her back stiff.  He wondered then why he was the one apologizing, and said, “But we hadn’t been together long enough this time ten years ago for you to have a baby . . . and how could I not know about it?  Ten years ago tomorrow, that was—”

“Alisiya.”  She twisted in the chair to fix him with an angry look.  “We were in Alisiya, and you left me all alone while I was unconscious, and you set that bitch loose on me, and she killed my baby.  That’s what happened.”

Russ felt as if she’d given him three quick punches in the gut, and for a moment he couldn’t say anything.  He remembered everything that had happened back then, of course he did, how could he forget?  It was true, he’d left her alone and Alisiya had taken her, but how could anything like that have happened?

“I’m sorry, Russ,” Liseli sighed, propping her elbows up on the kitchen table and resting her chin in her hands.  “It wasn’t your fault.  I should never have left Arlic’s house with her.  If I had never gone to the Gate with her, she’d never have known I was pregnant.  I would never have known, because it was too early to tell.  What was it . . . three days?  Two?  You’d probably say that’s not long enough to even count as pregnant, but I . . . .”  She scrunched her shoulders up and shook her head.  “She would probably have killed me if I refused to go to the Gate, and the baby would have died anyway, but at least I’d be dead too . . . .”

“Don’t say that.”  Russ finally pushed away from the counter and went to stand behind her chair.  He touched her hair gently as she shook her head.  “I asked you if she hurt you, why didn’t you tell me the truth?”

“She didn’t hurt me.”

“Yeah, she did.”

Liseli covered her face with her hands, and he squeezed her shoulders.  “I was ashamed,” her voice came out muffled and quiet.

“You should have told me.”

“I know!”  She lowered her hands abruptly and stood, pushing the chair back into him.  “But I didn’t want to think about it,” she said, turning to face him.  “I thought that maybe, since it had all been so sudden, a-and confusing, that if I didn’t talk about it I could just forget that it ever happened.  And you never guessed . . . until now, anyway.”

“Elly Ann told me.”

“What?”  Her face went white, he thought her eyes might pop out.  “I never told her!”

“I don’t know how she knew, but she told me—”  Russ paused, rethinking what he was about to say.  Elly Ann told him she didn’t think her mother really loved her and only loved the Lost One, he couldn’t tell Liseli that, not now anyway.  “She just kept mentioning ‘the Lost One’ as if I should know what that meant . . . .”

“I should talk to her.”  Liseli started to walk around him towards the living room, but Russ grabbed her by the elbow, stopping her.

“That’s not a good idea, you’ll just upset her,” he said, thinking, she’ll upset you.  “Wait till later.”

He thought she would argue, but she nodded instead.  “I suppose.  I guess . . . I really don’t want the kids to see me like this, anyway.  Later.”

Russ pulled her into a hug.  “It’s alright,” he said, expecting her to start crying.  But she didn’t.  “I’m sorry, Liseli.  I never meant to let her hurt you . . . .”

“I know.  It’s not your fault, it’s mine,” she said.  “I went with her.”

He sighed.  “It’s not your fault, either, you couldn’t help it.  I want you to stop beating yourself up about it.  And you killed Alisiya, remember?  You made her pay for it.  You did all you could.”

She was silent for a moment.  Then, “I see her sometimes.”

“Alisiya?”  The thought sent a dart of fear through him.  Alisiya couldn’t be . . . .

“No.”  Liseli shook her head slightly, rocking it against his chest.  “Her . . . our daughter.  I see her the way she would look if she’d been born, and . . . and well, got to be Elly’s age.”

“You mean, you imagine what she would look like.”

“Maybe.”  Liseli drew back so she could look up at him.  “Before Alisiya woke me up, I dreamed about her.  A girl.  I think I knew she was my daughter, but she said she wasn’t real.  But she was real, she was.  I just forgot until it was too late, and Alisiya killed her . . . but she wasn’t really dead, I mean, not dead and gone.”

“Liseli—”

“Don’t look at me like that, Russ.  I’m not crazy.”  She tried to shake him away, but he held tight.

“Liseli, I don’t think you’re crazy.  I just don’t understand . . . .”

“She haunts me.  Or maybe it’s just my guilt, my imagination, but I do see her, and . . . she accuses me of replacing her, and trying to forget her, and she’s right.  You know, when I decided not to tell you about it, I was thinking that maybe, maybe it was for the best, anyway.  I mean, we were very young, and we’d already gone through enough change in our lives, I wasn’t sure we could handle having a baby right away.  I was thinking, could we even begin to afford a baby . . . were we even going to last together?  Stuff like that.  I was thinking that maybe it was good that she died.  And that’s why she won’t leave me alone, I think, because I was relieved that she died.”

The words poured out of her rapidly, but then she stopped abruptly, twisting away.  Russ let her go this time.  He was even more confused, now.  He did not believe in ghosts.  He’d been to many worlds, he believed in the magic of Gates and a great many other things, but everywhere he’d gone death was final.  Death was death.  He’d never seen a ghost, never seen a dead person walking.  He didn’t believe in ghosts.

Liseli left the room, and Russ wasn’t quite sure what to do.  He thought he should follow her, but didn’t know what he was going to say.  Trying to talk her out of believing that she saw the ghost of a child that had never lived to be a child . . . no, that wouldn’t work.  She’d just get mad at him and accuse him of thinking she was crazy.

Is she?

He shook his head, pushing that thought out of the way.

Russ went into the living room, where the boys were nearly catatonic in front of their cartoons.  Anime characters with funky hair and gigantic eyes were beating the shit out of each other, and he thought for a moment that he should flip the channel to something less violent, but he didn’t.  They barely noticed him as he passed by, on his way into the bedroom, and on any other day that might have made him want to stand in front of the TV and start talking to them.  But today the longer they were distracted, the better.

Liseli was on the floor, picking up beads.  He could tell by her quiet sniffing noises that she was crying, finally, but he didn’t say anything about it.  He just sat down on the edge of the bed and watched her for a moment.  “I love you,” he said, and she looked up briefly, eyes glistening, before reaching for another dogseye bead.

“I would have thought the same things, if you’d told me back then.  I mean—” he spread his hands helplessly “—not that I would’ve wanted . . . it to happen.  But everyone second guesses themselves as parents, and we were just kids.  I mean, I’m thirty now and it still scares the shit out of me that we’re going to have another one.”

He saw Liseli’s hand move to her midsection.  The other cupped the beads as she looked away from him, out the window.

“Not that I’d want this baby to die, either,” he rushed to amend.  “It’s just natural to have those thoughts.  It wasn’t wrong of you to try and . . . try and look on the positive side.  I—”  Just shut up, Markson, he stopped himself.  Just shut the fuck up, already.

Liseli slid her hand away from her stomach, and fished under the computer desk, coming up with another orange bead.  “Have you ever wondered,” she asked, “what life would be like if we didn’t have the kids?  Elly and the boys.  Sometimes I do.  I love them, but I do.”

“Yeah,” he admitted, visions of the Gates stretching into infinity along the Silver Road popping unbidden to his mind.  But he hadn’t given that up for the kids, he’d given it up for Liseli.  Until this week, that is.

“Do you sometimes wish we’d never had them?”

“Well, no.”  He looked at her in surprise.  “Do you?”

She got up and sat down on the bed next to him, contemplating the beads in her hands.  “Elly scares me, sometimes.”

“I—”

“I think I’m going to lose her, just like the other one.  I never feel that way about the boys, but Elly isn’t like them.  She’s like the other one.  Sometimes I’ve wondered if they’re the same person, and I know that doesn’t make any sense.”

She lifted her eyes to his face.  “When I first dreamed about the Lost One, I dreamed that when I tried to touch her she disappeared.  She turned into a rock and I was all alone again. . . .  Every time I’ve seen her, she disappears on me before I can touch her or tell her that I’m sorry, I never really wanted her to die.  And sometimes when I touch Elly, I think that’s going to happen, that she’s just going to disappear, and it scares me.  I think, that if it ever happens, I’d rather I never had her.  I don’t think I can take it if it happens again.”

“Elly’s not gonna disappear,” Russ assured her, putting an arm around her shoulders.  “Trust me, sweetheart.  It’s just bad memories, that’s all.  Alisiya is gone, she can’t hurt you anymore.  Nothing like that is ever gonna happen again.”  He kissed the side of her face.  I’ll protect you, he thought, but didn’t say it, knowing he’d failed before.

“I know I’m being irrational.  I just can’t help it.”  Liseli poured the beads from one hand to another, watching as they fell into her palm.  “I shouldn’t have thrown Elly’s necklace.  I’ll re-string it before tomorrow, so you can give it to her.”  She stood up, shrugging away from his arm, and went over to the dresser, where she opened her jewelry box and dropped the beads into an empty compartment.  She wiped her hands together once, as if the dogseye stones had left a residue, and turned back to Russ.

“I better finish breakfast.  It’s getting late.”

“Are you sure you’re gonna be okay?” he asked, not knowing what else to say.

“I’m fine,” she said, crossing the room.  She paused at the door.  “You should probably think of something to tell your friends, they’ve been worried about you.”

“Shit.”  Russ mentally kicked himself.  He’d been so concerned with Liseli and the kids that he’d forgotten about the others.  “The club—”

“They went ahead, but Noah thinks they sucked without you.  So he’s a bit pissed,” she said, with a hint of a smile.  “They’re all a bit pissed.”

“I’ll call them.  But that can wait, if you want—”

“Russ, don’t worry about me.  I know where you went.  Worry about what you’re going to tell them.”  She opened the door; hyper animated music flowed in from the living room.  “And if you think you’re going anywhere with that band, you’re going to have to take it a little more seriously.  They depend on you, you know.  Jake looks up to you . . . they’re all going to feel like you let them down no matter what you come up with.”

“I’ll take care of it,” he said, a little testily.  Liseli was neatly shutting off all conversation about herself with talk of the band, and giving him a lecture in the process.  As if she cared about the band . . . .

“I’m sure you will, I just want them off my back.”  And with that, she left, letting the door fall shut behind her.

Russ shook his head and raked his hands through his hair, sighing.  I tried.  I tried to be understanding . . . and comforting . . . .  But Liseli didn’t want that, she only wanted to draw her walls up around her and look down at him from her tower, where she cried behind her locked doors instead of on his shoulder, no matter that he offered it.  She blamed him — she blamed him for everything.  And why not?  You left her alone then and you left her alone now and you’ll leave her alone again, and there’s no way to say “sorry” and no way to make up for it and no way to prove that you’re worth having around at all.

Well, he would.  He’d prove that pessimistic thought wrong.  It was probably just too much to press Liseli that day.  It was barely even seven in the morning.  He fell back on the bed and closed his eyes.  It was too much for him.

Russ didn’t realize he’d fallen asleep, but he woke up a few minutes later with drool dried to the side of his face and the bedspread.  He thought for a moment, turning over, that he saw Elly Ann perched on top of the bureau next to her mother’s jewelry box, and he opened his mouth to tell her not to climb on the furniture.  But then she wasn’t there, and he thought it was just a half-awake vision, maybe left over from something he’d been dreaming.  “Elly—” escaped before he fell silent.  The jewelry box was open, but had Liseli closed it?  Probably not.  It was his last thought before falling back to sleep.