LATER THAT DAY
Iupdate Alice on Timmy’s latest antics:
Me:
Alice:
Dude.
Where now?
Me:
Fuck knows.
I thought for a moment he was doing better. But I guess I was wrong.
Alice:
That’s the thing with people like Timmy and my ex. There’s part of them that is amazing and kind and super talented and sweet. But their mental health issues will always be louder than anything else if they allow it to be, and both of them allow it to be the loudest thing in their lives.
Louder than rationale, louder than family, louder than love, louder than self preservation.
You’re going to be on eggshells with him forever because the tripwires always change.
The landscape of his mind will always change, therefore so will the traps.
The next day, Timmy announces he’s leaving. “I’m going to be with my parents. I’m done with you.”
“Good,” I say flatly. “Go use them instead of me.”
“I’m going to tell my mom that you and my cousin are plotting to put her in a nursing home. That you don’t think she’s of sound mind.”
That’s the latest thing he’s jealous about—the friendship I’ve formed online with his cousin, Janet, ever since the Montana visit.
Initially encouraging of it, he now finds my friendship with her to be some giant threat. And apparently, that requires punishment—to me and, inexplicably, his mother.
He grins, as though he’s won something, and then starts skateboarding around the room like an overgrown child. When he finally leaves, the door beeping behind him, I exhale a shaky breath, the weight of his presence lifting slightly but leaving its mark.
Me:
Well, my friend from high school and her wife are visiting.
They’ve been planning this trip for the last 12 years.
I don’t think I can bring him.
Alice:
No, I wouldn’t bring him.
Someone in the middle of a psychotic episode should not be dealing with the world at large.
Me:
And also, her wife will actually kill him, and then she will go to prison.
Bc she is a badass and stronger than him and we don’t need that happening.