Love, Marissa, Day 42 without you

P.S. Please don’t make me survive without you.

She frowned at her dinner. Such depressing thoughts, on a Saturday night all alone, meant there was nothing else for it but to pluck her eyebrows. Staring into the bathroom mirror she realized she didn’t flinch as she had for a while after that horrific self-assessment in Tahiti. But the woman on the outside still did not match the woman she now truly believed existed on the inside. The woman who had made it up that cliff was not the helpless fat chick she still saw in the mirror, even after all these weeks of elliptical trainers and core-tightening weight lifting.

In the morning, her eyebrows perhaps a bit too thin, she made herself drink the first shake and tried not to be hungry. She plodded to the gym, even though she felt it was pointless.

***

Five weeks later, and feeling as if it had been a lifetime, the chill of the conference room was a welcome reminder to Linda that her heart was like ice where her mother was concerned. The week of uncomplicated days and nightly unbroken sleep at Dr. Kirkland’s house had brought her more peace than she’d ever thought possible. Only those few minutes after climaxing in Marissa’s arms had been better.

From Dr. Kirkland’s house, flush with the very small quarterly stipend from the only investment account in her name, she’d found a small studio outside Boston—way outside—and decided she wasn’t too proud to flip burgers for food money. The last month had been tiring but, in an odd way, exhilarating.

She did not want to live this way forever, however. She wanted to start over deciding what exactly she proposed to do with her life. Even if she got everything she wanted out of this meeting, she would not go back to being a drifter. Having a driving purpose to prepare for this meeting over the last four weeks had felt wonderful.

She looked over at her lawyer and smiled. Ted Jeffers was a decent human being, as was Dr. Kirkland.

Alligator entered first, just as before, then held the door with an air of ushering in the most delicate woman in the world. Her mother didn’t look at her.

There were pleasantries, which Ted Jeffers concluded with, “My client has decided not to delay the competency hearing any further.”

Linda had the tiny satisfaction of seeing her mother blink.

Alligator beamed. “That’s very good news.”

“Of course we believe that a court-ordered enforcement of the full provisions of both my client’s grandfather’s and father’s wills may result in bad publicity for your client.”

“We shouldn’t argue the case here,” Alligator said. “Let’s save arguments for the courtroom.”

Moving deliberately, Linda set a ream’s worth of printed pages on the table. They were neatly bound with a rubber band. “This is exhibit one. Your copy.”

Her mother glanced at the stack, but said nothing. Alligator looked at Ted, who nodded. “What should we call this exhibit?”