Safe Haven

Time passed quickly in preparation for Devin’s wedding. There was only one more week until Devin walked down the aisle and married Alex. God. Just the thought of that made me sick. While all of her other friends were partying in college, Devin would be cooking, cleaning, and working for Alex. Buying a dog. Having a baby. Shudders.

Of course, Devin’s parents were completely opposed to the marriage, but since she was already eighteen there was nothing they could do. They, along with help from Jayden, Monica and me, tried every possible way to convince her not to marry him. Nothing worked. But that wasn't exactly news.

So here we were, all six of us, surrounding Devin’s coffee table with a heap of wedding magazines and table decoration junk.

“I really like these bouquets,” Jayden said, pointing to an ugly arrangement of purple, yellow and green flowers. He was the only one who was actually putting in an effort with Devin’s wedding. Unlike the rest of us, he had realized that there was no point in convincing her not to marry him and had plunged into her wedding plans. The only problem was, he was a guy, and his opinion on wedding flowers and dresses and color combinations didn’t matter a whole lot.

“How about these?” Deb proposed, holding up a picture of a very valentine’s-day-feel rose bouquet.

“Those are both disgusting and lovey-dovey-lovers and crap,” I say. “This is what you need.” I point to a picture of a plain white bouquet, with boring tulips and little green stems.

“I like the roses,” Devin says. “Order those.”

We’d been over everything a million times, but with Devin, nothing was ever perfect. She’d returned three wedding dresses before she finally found ‘the one’. She’d arranged everything, made lists, called caterers, made reservations, and checked everything ten times over.

Alex, of course, was nowhere to be found. Each time we got together for wedding plans he was always busy with something or other, or if he decided he could come, he was no help whatsoever. “He’s just enjoying his single man time, he doesn’t have very much left,” Devin’s father always said, trying to hint that he didn’t really want to give up his single man time. Devin never picked up on it.

Monica was still hanging out at Danny’s, although they had broken up a few days ago. They were ‘just friends,’ she said, always forgetting to leave out the ‘with benefits’ part. She still wouldn’t go home, and even when I threatened to call the police for her running away, she refused to set a foot in either parent’s house. But today, I decided to change that.

“Monica,” I said, startling her from her daydreams. “Let’s go check on the bakery order for Devin.” At first she protested, but after one cold stare from me she gave up and followed me to the car. “We should be back soon,” I said to Devin as I shut the door behind me.

“Where are we going?” Monica asked, five minutes into the ride. “This isn’t the way to the bakery…”

“Shortcut,” I said, keeping my eyes on the road.

“Oh…” she mumbled. “I’ve never been…this is the way to – Oh!” I could practically see the gears turning in Monica’s head, processing. “Haven! No! You can’t!”

“You haven’t seen them in weeks, Monica,” I said. “They probably miss you!”

“Oh, I assure you they don’t!” she exclaimed. “They don’t miss me. They don’t miss seeing me. They don’t miss talking to me. They don’t miss hanging out with me. They miss hurting me!”

“That’s not true!” I cried. “You always loved your mom!”

“It’s not like she ever stood up for me! It’s not like she ever tried to stop him!”

“She was scared! People do stupid things when they’re scared!”

“Being scared doesn’t make it right! It’s not just being scared that made her not stand up for her own daughter when her husband was hurting her!” Monica choked out, tears spilling down her eyes.

“This is why you need to talk to her,” I said calmly. “She needs you. And you need her. You can’t crash at older guys apartments all the time.”

“Then I’ll stay with you! Please, Haven, don’t make me go back there. Ever.”

We’d pulled up on the curb outside her mother’s house. Well, house was an overstatement. It was a shack. A run down shack located behind the town dump, swarming with flies and woodland creatures crawling through broken windows and under chipped doors. There was one room, which consisted of a mattress that was falling apart, a table with three legs, and a broken refrigerator. Honestly, I don’t even know how her mom stayed alive in that thing.

Monica sat with her arms crossed, glaring at me from her seat. She didn’t budge; so I came around to her side and yanked open the door, sending her toppling to the ground.

“I told you to wear a seat belt,” I said, helping her to her feet and dragging her to the door. “Now you pay.” I rang the doorbell and waited patiently while Monica pulled against me, itching to get away. But I kept my firm grip on her arm, unwilling to let her run for the car.

“She’s obviously not home; let’s just leave,” suggested Monica. Actually, a more accurate word would be begged. But I wasn’t giving up just yet; if Monica didn’t talk to her mother today, I doubted I’d ever be able to get her to talk to her again.

After a dozen more rings, the door was finally yanked open and Monica’s crazed mother stood in the doorway, looking like she has escaped from a full body makeover half-way through, holding a dishpan raised above her head as if she was about to strike.

“She looks busy,” Monica said quickly. “We should go.”

“Monica,” I hissed, gritting my teeth. I dug my nails into her arm, causing her to yelp and turn back to her mother. They stared each other down, Monica wiggling uneasily, her mother seemingly just stunned. Giving Monica a not-so-gentle nudge, she finally forced herself to speak.

“Hi mom.”