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“Make sure to ask before getting rid of any lace underwear, Elise, they might be your brother’s!” Dan jokes, and my sister makes a gagging motion in response. I feel the corner of my mouth twitch, but I can’t manage the smile Dan is looking for, and he seems defeated by it.
I want to tell him it’s just too soon, and that I do appreciate him coming to help and be with me, even if I am humiliated that he knows the entire story now. But if there was ever a person to never pass judgment on my actions, it would be Dan. Shortof murder or assault, I’m not sure there is much I could do to offend the guy. He’s the loyal sort.
What’s more is that I know Dan liked Roxanne, but there’s no disappointment coming from him about the breakup. Just concern for me.
My efforts in bagging Roxie’s things up is haphazard at best. Every time I pick up something of hers—from a small set of pearl earrings she had set down next to a candle as an afterthought or a coffee cup with a ring of red lipstick on it—I’m thrown through a loop of remembering our moments here together. How am I supposed to live in this miasma of her memory? It seems impossible. I spend most of that sad afternoon rearranging things, avoiding the little clues of Roxanne’s existence whenever possible, and letting Elise or Dan bag them up instead. Unfortunately, they aren’t sure what is hers and what isn’t, so I have to involve myself somewhat, and each time they ask me about something of hers, my palms itch more and more for the liquor bottles in my cabinet. So while my sister isn't around, I go and serve myself a glass of bourbon, which I drink in two gulps.
The most miserable moments are those in my bedroom, opening drawers and smelling her scent as it washes over me with each piece of clothing I hold. Jaw working to hold off the tears that threaten to fill my eyes, I jerk open the drawer in my dresser that has all my old t-shirts; threadbare things from concerts, schools, and festivals that I’d wear around the house. It was the drawer Roxanne would always gravitate toward after we made love, pulling one of them over her head so it fell nearly to her knees as she puttered around the apartment. Seeing her in my things had made me feel so deliciously possessive, but now… now they just made me sick to my stomach.
I tug the entire drawer off its track and out of the dresser, dumping the whole thing into the bag and throwing the empty drawer aside. The metal on the bottom scuffs the floorboardsas it skitters away. I can see Dan’s silhouette in the doorway, watching me sadly, and I shove the bag of shirts into his hands as I push past him and into the bathroom.
I breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth, over and over again, until the breaths stop shuddering out of me and come smoothly. It’s a battle. I run cold water, splashing it over my face again and again until my teeth are chattering, and my mind is sharp again. I’m in control. I can do this. If I tell myself those lies enough, they might become true.
Suddenly, I can hear Dan and Elise talking quietly in the living room.
“We should take a break. Come back tomorrow. I can give him a Xanax so he can sleep. He looks like he’s been up for days.”
“No,” Elise hisses. “It has to be like pulling a Band-Aid off. We are purging that bitch from my brother’s life today. I’m not going to have him spending his days in this apartment with traces of her all over the place. You know he’ll just forlornly look out the window and never leave.”
“You’re pushing him too hard, Elise. You’re going to burn him out and then it’ll take even longer for him to recover.”
“Excuse me for saying so, but I think I know my brother better than you.”
Dan laughs. “Sure you do, sweetie.”
I hear Elise gasp in indignation, so I exit the bathroom before they can continue. They are both so quiet when they see me, and I know they’re wondering if I overheard everything or not.
“I think we’re about finished,” I tell them, and they look relieved.
“Do you want to come stay with me?” Elise offers, and Dan does the same, but I turn them both down.
“I just need to be alone.”
Elise approaches me, and before I can balk, she lays her hands on my cheeks. The authoritarian look she had worn sinceshe arrived earlier had faded and in her eyes was the sweetness and empathy of my little sister, a look I rarely saw anymore as Elise grew into her own. She’d be an unstoppable powerhouse of a woman, but it was endearing to know there were still traces of the little girl she had been not so long ago.
“Heartbroken poets write their best work, don’t you know that?” she tells me, patting my face before tapping the tip of my nose with her finger. I brush her off, but not before I hear Dan snickering in the background.
We pile the bags by the door. Seeing me and Roxie’s life together packaged up into three black plastic bags makes my heart lurch in my chest. Was it really so little? So insignificant to be quantified like that?
“There. Trash packed up like trash, as is proper,” Elise declares, dusting her hands off. I want to retort, and tell her that her harsh language isn’t helping, but as I open my mouth, the buzzer for the front door downstairs sounds.
We all look at each other as the buzzer sounds three times and goes silent, but as soon as the buzzer ceases, I see Elise pull my phone out from her pocket and frown at it. Then the buzzer begins again.
I walk over to the window and look down, my stomach dropping to my feet. Of course, it's Roxanne. From this angle, I can only see the top of her head, but I can tell she’s stiff as a board, her phone in her hand as she tries to call me again and again.
“She’s not going to leave,” Dan points out.
“Thank you for stating the obvious!” Elise gripes. “Okay, here is the plan. I’ll handle her. The two of you just go to the office and lock the door. Stay quiet. I’ll let her come get her things and go, and she’ll never have to know you’re home.”
“This is just kicking the can down the street, Elise. She’ll be back. We might as well bite the bullet now,” I say.
“No way. It’s still too new. It’s only been a few hours since the breakup! Please trust me on this.”
The entire time we speak, the buzzer continues to sound. I hate it, but I know my sister is right. The confrontation between Roxanne and me will be nothing but ugly, and it’ll just make things even worse. With a tight nod, I motion to Dan, and the both of us head to the back of the apartment. I let him walk in before me and shut the door behind us, locking it before sinking down onto the leather loveseat and holding my head in my hands.
“This is a nightmare,” I say, more to myself than anyone else.
“It’s only temporary,” Dan responds. I feel his weight as he sits down next to me.
