{"id":1360,"date":"2023-11-06T22:15:31","date_gmt":"2023-11-07T03:15:31","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.anagramofbrat.net\/anecdotes\/?p=1360"},"modified":"2025-09-28T04:11:17","modified_gmt":"2025-09-28T08:11:17","slug":"six","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.anagramofbrat.net\/anecdotes\/fiction\/serials\/for-auld-lang-syne\/six\/","title":{"rendered":"Six"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
Content Warning<\/summary>\n

CW: Mild self-harming behavior.<\/p>\n<\/details>\n\n\n

I wake up to my phone vibrating intensely and urgently. I slap my hand in the general direction of the buzzing, accidentally whack my hand against the coffee table, and frown when I open my eyes to find I’m not in the library as expected. Instead I’m on the living room couch, with two or three heavy but soft velvety blankets piled on top of me.<\/p>\n

“The hell,” I murmur, before looking down at my still angrily buzzing phone… with Gary’s picture lit up on the screen.<\/p>\n

I freeze, my still not awake brain shifting into panic mode. I remain frozen so long that the call goes to voicemail and the screen fades to black.<\/p>\n

Gary never leaves voicemails so I at least have that measure of relief. However my phone emits an indignant hiccup and lights up with an incoming text notification, which freezes me right back into inaction again.<\/p>\n

Gary never texts either.<\/p>\n

The phone buzzes again and I will myself to move. “Fuck me, all right all right,” I grumble softly, picking the phone up.<\/p>\n\n\n

\n
\n

Gareth Randall<\/p><\/div>\n<\/div>\n

\n
\n

Saturday 8:12 AM<\/p>\n

G. Randall<\/span>Sor?<\/p>\n

Hello<\/p>\n

Well well well look what the Internet decided to vomit into my notifications<\/p>\n

G. Randall<\/span>I suppose I deserve that<\/p>\n

\ud83d\ude44 What do you want?<\/p>\n

G. Randall<\/span>To talk<\/p>\n

…that’s a first<\/p>\n

G. Randall<\/span>I know. Is it OK if I call again? you know how bad I am at texting<\/p>\n

I guess since you asked nicely i’ll allow it<\/p>\n

G. Randall<\/span>Thank you<\/p>\n\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

I can’t remember the last time Gary texted me without previous provocation. In fact this may be the longest text conversation I’ve ever had with him. Usually if I text him I get one letter answers, and certainly never more than a syllable. I also haven’t heard from him in at least four days which in itself is bizarre, but I also can’t say I mind the silence. After getting the divorce petition, I’m not sure if I want to hear what he has to say to me.<\/p>\n

The phone rings again, and I groan before l answer the call.<\/p>\n

“Gareth.”<\/p>\n

“Sor?”<\/p>\n

I roll my eyes. “Who else will be picking up my phone?”<\/p>\n

I hear Gary chuckle nervously. “You’re right, dumb question,” he says. He sounds ragged, like every word is a struggle to push out.<\/p>\n

I count to 10 in my head, allowing the silence on the line to get uncomfortable before breaking it. “You said you wanted to talk, so talk. Though I can’t imagine what you have to say after getting the goddamn state of California to inform me you want out of our marriage.”<\/p>\n

“Touch\u00e9,” he sighs. “But it got your attention, didn’t it?”<\/p>\n

I blink. “Got my… Gary, tell me you didn’t immediately go straight for the nuclear option just to get my attention<\/em>. Texting me a complete sentence would have done that!”<\/p>\n

“Wish I could,” he says quietly.<\/p>\n

I close my eyes and count to five. “That’s extremely shitty,” I say, keeping my tone flat. “You could’ve just asked.”<\/p>\n

Gary scoffs. “I’ve tried.”<\/p>\n

“Bullshit.”<\/p>\n

“No.” He takes a deep breath. “I’ve been trying to get you to talk to me for months, Sor. You’d always wave me off, say you were too busy, or needed to do something with the boys, and even when you would have a conversation I felt like I could never get a word in edgewise with you.”<\/p>\n

I close my eyes, feeling the hand not currently holding a phone ball into a fist. The sharp pinch of my fingernails digging into my palm is head-clearing. “Well, you have my attention now, so say what you need to say.”<\/p>\n

Another long silence. I count to five, then ten. “Yeah, good talk. I feel a whole lot better about the situation,” I finally spit, patience lost.<\/p>\n

“This is almost impossible for me. Can you have a little patience?”<\/p>\n

I huff out a breath, staring up at the ceiling. The gently twirling fan offers no answers. “I’m trying<\/em>. But I don’t think you understand what a colossally manipulative dick move you made here. I don’t know how much patience you’re expecting me to have after that.”<\/p>\n

“Just hear me out?”<\/p>\n

“I mean, if you’d ever actually talk<\/em>, sure.”<\/p>\n

“Saoirse,” Gary sighs. “Has it ever occurred to you that I don’t talk because you don’t give me a chance to?”<\/p>\n

I grit my teeth, but don’t respond.<\/p>\n

Another sigh. “While I’m thinking about how to phrase this, how’s New England?”<\/p>\n

“Chilly.”<\/p>\n

“Your mom?”<\/p>\n

“Haven’t talked to her.”<\/p>\n

I feel like I can hear him blinking confusedly, like a cartoon. “What?”<\/p>\n

“I. Haven’t. Talked. To. Her.” I say again, catching myself slipping into the voice I use with the boys when I have to be extra clear and firm with them. “Probably the only reason you’re still breathing, so you’re welcome.”<\/p>\n

“Then where…” Gary trails off, and the silence takes a slightly different tone. He exhales, no doubt hauling back saying something he’d regret. “Fuck me. How is<\/em> Ezra?” he asks in a strained voice.<\/p>\n

“Esm\u00e9 now.” I correct.<\/p>\n

“Right, sorry. God, that’s gotta be weird.”<\/p>\n

“Not particularly,” I lie. “Esm\u00e9 and her adorable girlfriend are doing just fine. But weren’t you trying to reveal some fundamental truth to me before you deadnamed my friend?”<\/p>\n

“God, the sarcasm, Sor.”<\/p>\n

I can feel my fuse shrinking to just about nonexistent. “What do you fucking want from me, Gary? Did you seriously expect to suddenly vanish, serve me with divorce paperwork while you’re gone like a goddamn coward, and not<\/em> be upset with you?” I drop my forehead into my hands. “I’m entirely justified in being a little nasty about it, I think.”<\/p>\n

“All right. Fair. I’m sorry.”<\/p>\n

I frown at his tone, which is annoyingly placating. “Are you actually sorry or saying that because I actually sound mad?”<\/p>\n

“Actually sorry, whatever that’s worth to you.” He pauses, and I hear him take another deep breath before continuing. “I don’t actually want a divorce, Sor.”<\/p>\n

And just like that, everything from my jaw to my knees snaps to maximum tension, and I feel my temper igniting as the last bit of my fuse burns away. “Then why the flying fuck did you file for one?”<\/em><\/p>\n

The door between the living room and Esm\u00e9 and Rose’s bedroom cracks open and both of their heads pop through, both of them frowning concernedly. Esm\u00e9 cocks her head and raises a questioning eyebrow; I grin maniacally in response, trap the phone between my shoulder and my ear, and put both my thumbs up.<\/p>\n

Esm\u00e9 rolls her eyes, and draws Rose back by her shoulders, pointing to the kitchen. “We’ll be in here,” she whispers. “Coffee?”<\/p>\n

I nod, noting Gary hasn’t answered the outburst. “That wasn’t a rhetorical question,” I grit out at a lower volume.<\/p>\n

“I know.” he says tiredly. “We haven’t really been the same since the boys were born, haven’t we? It looks fine on the surface, but really if we’re not interacting through or for them? We’re just kinda going through the motions.”<\/p>\n

“I…” I start, then trail off. “No, you know what? You’re right. But you seemed like you were content with only the surface stuff. I don’t know.”<\/p>\n

He laughs, without any humor in it. “Of course you don’t know. You never think to ask. And you don’t let me tell you anything.”<\/p>\n

“Okay fine, yes, I never listen, but I can’t really remember the last time you tried more than twice to get my attention, Mister ‘Can we talk about it later’ and then never coming back to it.”<\/p>\n

Gary sighs. “This isn’t going well, is it.”<\/p>\n

“Nope,” I answer, with a purposefully obnoxious emphasis on the P.<\/p>\n

“Did it ever?”<\/p>\n

“Yeah, for about six months when I got pregnant with Jas. It was nice not having a fight every week about something stupid.”<\/p>\n

“Yes it was.” he pauses for a few seconds. “I really want to say let’s table this until we get home, but I have a feeling we’ll just keep fighting in circles.”<\/p>\n

“Probably.”<\/p>\n

“Honestly, do you even want to try and salvage this? Like really think about it, don’t just tell me what you think I want to hear so I’ll shut up and leave you alone.”<\/p>\n

“I don’t\u2014”<\/p>\n

“Yes, you do.”<\/p>\n

That sends a cold feeling through my stomach and up through my sternum, and I close my eyes. “I don’t know. Really. Part of me feels like I should at least try, but there’s another part that’s telling me we’ve been done for a while and this is just taking our marriage off the ventilator. I don’t know which part is right.”<\/p>\n

“That’s kinda what I thought.” Gary sighs again. “And to be perfectly blunt, you being where you are pretty much confirms it.”<\/p>\n

“What does that have to do with anything?”<\/p>\n

He does that hollow, humorless laugh again. “Saoirse, I love you, but my God, you really have a complete lack of self-awareness sometimes.”<\/p>\n

“Gee, thanks. Really helping your case here, asshole.”<\/p>\n

A very long sigh. “Listen, I didn’t wake you up just to pick a fight, but that seems to be where this is heading, so I’m gonna go. And yeah, before you say it, I know it’s not the bravest course of action, but it’s 5am here and bravery’s something for when the sun is actually up. Also yes, I know I woke you up. I only hear the Massachusetts in your voice before you’ve had your coffee.”<\/p>\n

I laugh despite myself. “You’re really gonna bounce without answering my question?”<\/p>\n

“You won’t like the answer.”<\/p>\n

I press the heel of my hand into my brow bone and count to five. “Gareth…”<\/p>\n

“I did it because you won’t.”<\/p>\n

“The fuck?” I bristle back up as fast as I’d calmed down.<\/p>\n

“I have eyes, Sor. I know you’re not happy. Haven’t been for a while, if we’re being honest with ourselves. However, you’ll miserably stick this out instead of admit the possibility that you fucked up marrying me. ‘Cause if that’s true… what else did you fuck up in the process?”<\/p>\n

My face heats, and an anxious staticky feeling ripples from my chest outwards, making it hard to breathe.<\/p>\n

“Just think about it, okay? It’s on the table if you want out.” His voice catches a little on the last word, and then my phone beeps quietly as the call abruptly ends.<\/p>\n

I lower my phone from my ear, staring at it angrily. I really want to hurl it across the room, preferably into the wall, but put it down on the coffee table before I give into the urge. “Asshole,” I murmur, closing my eyes and clenching my hands into fists. “Asshole,” I say again, louder, pounding one fist into my thigh. It hurts, but is weirdly satisfying. “Asshole.” Pound slightly harder so it hurts slightly more. “Asshole.”<\/em> Harder. “ASSHOLE.<\/em>“<\/p>\n

The fist doesn’t connect that time; Esm\u00e9 catches my wrist before I can slam it into my thigh again, having somehow managed to come back into the room without my noticing. “Hey,” she says, softly but firmly. “Saoirse. Stop.”<\/p>\n

For the second time this week I look up into Esm\u00e9’s nakedly worried face. Also for the second time, I respond by bursting into tears.<\/p>\n

Esm\u00e9 lets go of my arm, presumably to do something comforting; she freezes, wide-eyed, when I clench my fist again, slamming it as hard as I can into my thigh. “Fuck.<\/em> Okay, no, we’re not doing this,” she mutters, sitting behind me on the couch and grabbing both my wrists, trapping them against my chest in a cross and me against her. “Stop<\/em>,” she says again, into my ear. “Whatever just happened it’s not worth hurting yourself over. I’ve got you. Just stop.”<\/p>\n

The next however long feels like dissolving \u2014 I have no idea how long it takes me to cry myself out, or how long Esm\u00e9 just holds me against her afterward. But it’s long enough that when I do feel like I’ve managed to return to a state reasonably approximating normal, the shirt I’d slept in is both damp and cold.<\/p>\n

Esm\u00e9’s still hanging onto my hands, gently but firmly immobilizing both wrists. “Hey, let go,” I complain, squirming, aware I sound like a petulant four year old.<\/p>\n

“You gonna punch yourself again?”<\/p>\n

I wince. My upper thigh is low key throbbing and I suspect I’ve got the beginnings of an impressively nasty bruise starting. “No,” I promise sullenly.<\/p>\n

Esm\u00e9’s grip loosens, then drops when I don’t lash out at either her or myself. I slowly put my hand down instead, gently rubbing my thigh to assess the damage and wincing when I go over the bruised area. “What happened?” she asks.<\/p>\n

“Gary.”<\/p>\n

“Yeah, I assumed, but what did he say?”<\/p>\n

I don’t answer, letting the quiet stretch. “Am I difficult to talk to?” I finally ask.<\/p>\n

Esm\u00e9’s mouth twists a little. “How do you mean?”<\/p>\n

I shake my head. “I don’t know exactly. But that wasn’t an immediate no.”<\/p>\n

“Gimme a break, I need to know what you actually want to know from that question before I answer it.” She rolls her eyes. “A request for clarification is not a confirmation.”<\/p>\n

I blow my hair out of my eyes. “Gods. I don’t even know. Was there ever a time when we were together where you were unhappy about something I did or was doing but felt like you couldn’t talk to me about it?”<\/p>\n

Esm\u00e9 cocks her head and smiles. “Loaded question, but okay,” she says. “I could talk<\/em> to you about anything then. I just learned pretty quickly not to expect you to retain things.”<\/p>\n

My stomach sinks. “What do you mean by that?”<\/p>\n

“I’m gonna fuck up trying to explain,” she sighs. “Let’s just say whenever I’d complain to Pete about whatever was going on in our relationship, he’d just say ‘It’s always been Saoirse’s world. You just chose to live in it.'”<\/p>\n

“Jesus.” I wince. “That sounds unhealthy.”<\/p>\n

She shrugs. “It was what it was. I didn’t exactly mind at the time. Making myself fit into other people’s versions of reality meant I didn’t have to create one for myself.”<\/p>\n

“You don’t still do that, do you?”<\/p>\n

“A little.” She smiles sheepishly. “Rose’s reality where I’m the most beautiful girl she’s ever seen is a nice one to run to when my brain isn’t firing right.”<\/p>\n

“As opposed to what, exactly?” I ask incredulously.<\/p>\n

“You know the answer to that. My self-image has always been straight trash.”<\/p>\n

“Straight<\/em> trash?” I echo, giggling.<\/p>\n

“You know what I mean.” Esm\u00e9 rolls her eyes, an exasperated but affectionate smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Being able to shape your own reality isn’t always a bad thing. But I do think you lose sight of the people caught up in yours sometimes.”<\/p>\n

“Maybe all the time,” I murmur, darkly.<\/p>\n

Esm\u00e9 doesn’t have an answer for that, but she leans over and kisses my forehead before standing and offering me her hands. “C’mon, I’ll make you and Rose some waffles.”<\/p>\n

I sniffle, but smile as I let her haul me to my feet. “Blueberry with a bacon strip baked in?” I ask hopefully.<\/p>\n

She laughs. “Some things never change. We don’t have blueberries, but I might be able to manage the bacon. Will that do?”<\/p>\n

I nod. “That’ll do fine.”<\/p>\n

\n

I am getting better at catching Esm\u00e9’s and Rose’s little conversations via facial expressions. Rose enters the kitchen at the same time we do, only in her case she’s coming from the pantry with three very loaded large mugs of coffee in her hands. She looks at me, then up at Esm\u00e9 with the slightest raise of her eyebrow. Esm\u00e9 answers by pressing her lips together in a concerned line, the lower one sliding between her teeth as it generally does when she’s nervous or worried. “Babe, where’d you put the bruise cream?” she says out loud.<\/p>\n

“Either behind the bathroom mirror or the skinny cabinet in our room.”<\/p>\n

Esm\u00e9 vanishes into their bedroom.<\/p>\n

Rose’s gaze drops back down to me, a little frown creasing the space between her eyebrows. “Are you okay?” she says in a softer tone of voice, placing the mugs carefully down on the table.<\/p>\n

“No, but I will be.”<\/p>\n

“Gary?” she asks, pointing back to the living room with her chin.<\/p>\n

“Yeah.” I sit gracelessly in one of the chairs at the kitchen table and drop my face into my hands as Rose rummages in the refrigerator for creamers. “We’re gonna have to have a Talk when I get home. Apparently filing for divorce was a Hail Mary to get me to realize our marriage was in trouble or some shit.”<\/p>\n

Rose makes a face, sitting down at the table and putting the almond milk in front of me. “There are less devastating ways to do that.”<\/p>\n

“Tell me about it. But supposedly I don’t pay enough attention to him for those ways to work.”<\/p>\n

“Well.” Rose makes an annoyed tch<\/em> noise, sucking air through her teeth. “How long have you been married?”<\/p>\n

“Eleven years?”<\/p>\n

“Kinda discouraging if it’s been that long and he hasn’t figured out how to talk to you like a civilized human yet.”<\/p>\n

“Discouraging is certainly a word for it.” I cream my coffee, then gingerly take a sip. “Gary might have a point though.”<\/p>\n

“So what if he does?” Esm\u00e9 says, returning to the kitchen clutching a silver and green ointment tube. “Fuck Gary. If his dick move gambit doesn’t work out the way he wants? Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.”<\/p>\n

I sigh and change the subject. “Bruise cream?” I ask, looking dubiously at the tube in her hand.<\/p>\n

Esm\u00e9 turns pink. “It tends to head hickeys off at the pass. Rose bites.”<\/p>\n

“With permission<\/em>,” Rose protests. “Rather enthusiastic permission at that.”<\/p>\n

Esm\u00e9’s blush deepens. “I never said you didn’t have permission, I just said that you bite.”<\/p>\n

“Hmmmph.” Rose sips her coffee. “Well, I guess I can’t argue that.”<\/p>\n

“Amazing,” I giggle. “She never let me bite her. Not hard enough to warrant ointment anyway.”<\/p>\n

“Pity,” Rose says. “You should try again when you get your shit sorted. She got tastier after the hormones.”<\/p>\n

“Fucking hell, ladies, at least let me have my coffee if we’re gonna do this<\/em> again.” Esm\u00e9 pinches the bridge of her nose, putting the tube down in front of me. “Right, I was gonna make waffles.”<\/p>\n

“Oooh, yeah you were.” Rose has a delightedly wicked look on her face. “And I’m going to look at your butt while you do.”<\/p>\n

“It’s a nice butt,” I say, unhelpfully.<\/p>\n

Esm\u00e9’s face darkens to scarlet. “You haven’t seen it in thirteen years! How would you know?”<\/p>\n

I smirk. “That froufy underwear you were in yesterday didn’t exactly leave much to the imagination.”<\/p>\n

“Fuck’s sake, you two.”<\/p>\n

Rose laughs. “Fine, we won’t look at you then,” she says, scooting her chair closer to me so that her back is to Esm\u00e9.<\/p>\n

Esm\u00e9 makes a strangled indignant noise in the back of her throat and I quickly decide it’s the better part of valor if I turn my chair around too.<\/p>\n

Rose punches up some sort of shooty game on her phone, so I get up to retrieve mine from the living room. I stop after picking it up, twirling it in my hand fretfully, Gary’s voice echoing unbidden in my ears.<\/p>\n

If you fucked up by marrying me, what else did you fuck up in the process?<\/p>\n

“Nope. Not doing this,” I mutter, unlocking the phone and punching up Minecraft. A couple of taps later, I’m presented with the loading screen before connecting to the family game server.<\/p>\n

The structure that was only visible as a blocky mess through last night’s video call reveals itself to be a series of seemingly randomly placed wooden cubes big enough to stand in, stacked haphazardly on top of each other. One cube is just floating in mid air, disconnected from the rest. I smile. It’s simplified and not quite the same, but I recognize the general gist of the building I’d shown the boys before leaving on my trip. My suspicion is confirmed by a sign placed in front of the structure by a road I’d built for us months ago. “Habitat Jas,” I read aloud to myself.<\/p>\n

I really want to hug both boys at that moment. Not them<\/em>, I silently answer Gary’s accusatory question. There were maybe a few things I definitely regretted about sticking with Gary, but never<\/em> the boys.<\/p>\n\n\n

\n
\n
\n

SpritleRacerMach7 has joined the server.<\/p>\n

<TinkerBellicose> Jas why are you awake? It’s 6am there.<\/p>\n

<SpritleRacerMach7>hi mama<\/p>\n

<SpritleRacerMach7>Rem is still sleeping<\/p>\n

<SpritleRacerMach7>wanna work on the build while he’s not bothering me<\/p>\n

<TinkerBellicose>I guess that’s fair. You’re not playing on the TV at this hour are you?<\/p>\n

<SpritleRacerMach7>ipad<\/p>\n

<TinkerBellicose>Oh okay. Well keep the volume down, there’s no reason to wake up MayMay.<\/p>\n

<SpritleRacerMach7>shes awake.<\/p>\n

<TinkerBellicose>What.<\/p>\n

<SpritleRacerMach7>shes dancing in front of the tv<\/p>\n

<SpritleRacerMach7>other people are dancing on it<\/p>\n\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

I snort. Margaret would<\/em> get up at ass o’clock to do jazzercise or whatever it was Jas saw her doing.<\/p>\n\n\n

\n
\n
\n

<TinkerBellicose>Okay well don’t play so much you forget to go get your breakfast.<\/p>\n

<SpritleRacerMach7>ok<\/p>\n

<TinkerBellicose>I’d say go back to sleep but I know you’re not gonna listen.<\/p>\n

<SpritleRacerMach7>haha<\/p>\n

<TinkerBellicose>The build looks really good by the way.<\/p>\n

<SpritleRacerMach7>:D<\/p>\n

<TinkerBellicose>are you gonna plant some flowers under and around it when you’re all done?<\/p>\n

<SpritleRacerMach7>ye<\/p>\n

<TinkerBellicose>Okay. I gotta go eat breakfast. Can’t wait to see it when you’re all done.<\/p>\n

<SpritleRacerMach7>ok<\/p>\n

<TinkerBellicose>Love you <3<\/p>\n

<SpritleRacerMach7>love you too<\/p>\n\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

“Waffles!” Esm\u00e9 calls from the kitchen.<\/p>\n

I close out of the game, suddenly feeling very far from home. “Coming.”<\/p>\n\n\n

\n
\n\n\n

Related Posts<\/h3>
\"A<\/a><\/div>
For Auld Lang Syne<\/a><\/div><\/div>
\"A<\/a><\/div>
Five<\/a><\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div>\n\n\n
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