Page 45 of Revelry
“Tate, we were in the middle of something?” I said, but it was like I wasn’t there. “Tate, look at me—” I reached out for him.
“Go home, Gertrude. I don’t want your help, I need to clean up this mess!” he snapped and then shook his head, getting on his knees and sweeping up the baking soda.
Tears stung my eyes and blurred my vision. He’d been so hot, so caring one moment and now he was a completely different person. I’d been through that before, and I wouldn’t do it again.
Dammit. This is why I was staying away from men.
I fled the kitchen and his house and didn’t stop running until I was in my own place. Yet I didn’t feel comforted. I went into the backyard and began climbing the tree, to my haven. Only I noticed that there were small footholds carved into the wide trunk, making my journey up easier. My heart grew heavier, knowing that Tate had done this for me.
When I made it to the thick limb to sit on, the bark had been sanded down so it was no longer rough and there were two seats side by side. Tate knew I sat here when things got tough and he wanted to make it easier for me.
I was so torn, frustrated at his sudden switch in the kitchen just now compared with the thoughtful, caring man I had glimpses of. Something wasn’t right and I didn’t know what. I didn’t know how to fix it and I didn’t even know if I wanted to.
Sometime later, I heard a rustling below me. It grew closer and then sure enough, Tate appeared. He sat next to me, his glasses askew from the climb and although I had the urge to reach out and straighten them, I didn’t.
We were silent for a while. Then he pushed out a breath. “I’m sorry, Gertrude.”
“Gertie,” I corrected.
“I have some…issues, which you’ve probably noticed.” He didn’t say any more and neither did I. As much as I wanted him to open up, I wasn’t going to force him. He had to choose to.
He clicked his fingers three times before huffing out a breath and pushing his glasses up his nose. “When I was a teenager,we found out my dad had a second family across town that he’d been secretly visiting.”
“Oh Tate.” I covered my mouth with one hand, the other gripping my stomach tight. “I had no idea.”
He shrugged. “No one knows really. After he left us, my mom didn’t cope. She went into depression and was on a lot of medication. She was so quick to anger and upset. I tried to keep everything as nice as possible, as clean as possible and do everything perfectly just to avoid upsetting her more. She would say that because I wasn’t perfect or things weren’t perfect, that’s why he left us. She blamed me but she also was so dependent on me. She relied on me for everything, and it was toxic. She would go into a spiral for days and threaten to kill herself.”
I reached over and grabbed his hand, squeezing it in reassurance. “I remember that day at Tony’s, when she called and you had to go home.”
He nodded. “She had threatened to kill herself if I didn’t.”
Dread and horror filled me at his words. “I know she died, but how did she die, Tate?”
He pushed out a shaky breath. “I stupidly thought I could leave and go to college, to get a degree and a good job. If I worked hard and earned enough money, I could look after both of us. But she didn’t see it that way. My first semester she threatened to kill herself if I didn’t come home.”
His voice wavered. I gripped him tighter, wondering if he’d ever told anyone this. I had no clue what he’d gone through and if I didn’t know, living next door to him, then no one else would either.
“I thought she was just threatening, like other times. I didn’t think she would do it. But she did.”
I gasped, shocked that she would do such a thing, knowing the impact it would have on those around her. How she manipulated Tate in a way no mother ever should.
“I’m so sorry Tate, I don’t even know what to say. Where was your father while this was happening?”
He laughed bitterly. “He was living his best life with his other family. I told him I wanted nothing to do with him, to stay away from me. But he keeps coming back, wanting to build a relationship and have me get to know my half-siblings. But why doesn’t he realize that after everything he did to us, I want nothing to do with him?”
I could understand that. Everything spiraled from when his father left them and his betrayal was the catalyst for so many hurts. He might want to make amends now, but it seemed like there was no chance of that on Tate’s part.
He turned to me. I couldn’t see his expression in the dark but I gripped him tight still. “I don’t get close to people, Gertrude. I don’t want to be trapped and relied on that way. I’m not well myself. I developed OCD and it’s out of control. It always flares when he shows up and I can’t do this. I can’t have friendships or relationships. It just gets in the way and ruins things, like tonight. I’m so sorry that I behaved that way. I understand if you don’t want to hang out anymore. Maybe it’s for the best.”
Part of me wanted to protest and say of course it wasn’t what’s best, that we would still hang out. But I’d heard apologies from men before when they lashed out.
The other part of me, the stupid part, believed Tate though. He had a condition. He wasn’t going to hurt me, it was all about him and his frustrations.
I didn’t respond, I needed time to process. We sat in silence a while, I had let go of his hand long ago. Eventually he moved over to the trunk and started to climb down. Just before his head dipped out of view he said, “I really did have fun with you tonight, Gertrude.”
“I’m glad,” I replied.
Then he tapped the tree trunk and was gone.
