Somebody That I Used to Know

Moving sucks. Packing up all your crap into labelled boxes sucks. Putting all those boxes into a moving van sucks just a little bit more. Unloading them into your new two bedroom apartment really sucks. Realising just how little your left when your soon to be ex wife gets half of your stuff is perhaps the worst part of it. Every aspect of it is a form of slow torture. At least that’s how Gerard felt when he looked at the remaining boxes. There were six boxes left to unpack, two of which were labelled clothes, one labelled records, two were filled with comics. The last one was an old box. It hadn’t worn the years very well, with creases and holes riddling the cardboard. Unlike the rest, there was no label on it. Gerard had no idea what was in the box but, if it was unlabelled it wasn’t important. It was probably just a bunch of crap from his adolescent years. He had half a mind to throw it out in order to avoid looking through it. It was Lindsey who had found it in the attic when going through all their stuff; he supposed he should be thankful that she gave it to him. Even in the midst of the separation she was still as dignified as ever. It wasn’t for his sake though; it was all for Bandit, who was taking the divorce as well as a sixteen year old could. He looked at the boxes in the living room with a mild sense of panic. Bandit was due any moment, and he should have had everything unpacked for her first visit to his new apartment. He had been staying with Ray for the last month while he looked for a new place, and now that he finally had a place where his daughter could stay over he should have been more prepared and organised. He had just decided to shove the boxes in the spare closet next to the bathroom when there was a short sharp knock at the door. He jumped and cussed in surprise, his eyes darting to the door before he looked back at the boxes with a hateful glare. A second, more impatient knock motivated Gerard to drag his feet to the door but the smile plastered on his face at the sight of his daughter was genuine.

“Hey B.”

“Hey dad” she rushed to greet him, flinging her arms around his waist and squeezing the air out of his lungs. The move had eaten up all of his free time in the last two weeks, which was the longest he had ever gone without seeing his only child. She was his pride and joy, and the time lost hit him now. He swore she had grown an inch or two in those two weeks.

“How’s my little lady?”

“Dad!” She groaned before chuckling, breaking the hug and pushing past him to enter the apartment, not waiting for an invitation.

“Are you seriously not finished unpacking yet?” she scolded the minute Gerard shut the door.

She stood in the middle of the sitting room, her brown eyes zeroed in on the offending boxes left out in the room. Gerard couldn’t help but notice just how like her mother she was; from her dark brown eyes which glared at the boxes, to the long waist length black hair, to the way she rested her hand on her hip stuck to ensure she displayed her disapproval over his lack of organisation.

“You try setting up an apartment all by yourself!”

“I’d do a better job than you.”

“You think so? Prove it. You can unpack the rest of the boxes then.”

“Ha Ha Ha” Bandit drawled, sarcasm dripping in her tone.

“I’m serious. You know what happens when you complain. Records go in the shelf beside the TV. If you get it done in less than half an hour I’ll order pizza.”

“And if I don’t?” Bandit’s teenage side came out, calling Gerard’s bluff. She may look like her mother, but she got the attitude from him.

“I’ll make veggie curry.”

“But you suck at making curry!”

“Exactly. Better get started, then!”

Bandit let out a low growl, throwing her backpack on the ground and picking up the box labelled ‘Records’. She threw Gerard an evil glare and stormed over to the plastic Ikea shelf.

“You know, this wasn’t what I had in mind when I said I wanted to stay for the weekend. I thought we might actually do something fun, like watch Battlestar Galatica.”

“We will as soon as we get this stuff unpacked, so more unpacking, less complaining.”

“Whatever!”

Gerard picked up one of the boxes marked ‘Clothes” and marched to the bedroom, dumping the box on the floor with a heavy drop before ripping the sellotape off. He thought about neatly folding the spare clothes before placing them in the chest of drawers, but quickly decided it was an unnecessary and time consuming task. He tore the clothes out the cardboard box and shoved them into the press without care. In a matter of ten minutes the box was empty. He congratulated himself on doing the job in record time. He stood up too quickly, resulting in a loud cracking sound ringing in his ears. At thirty nine years old, his body was starting to give him daily reminders that he wasn’t in his twenties anymore in the form of clicking knees. He ignored it and grabbed the second box of clothes, emptying the box just as quickly as the first one.

“Hey Dad, what’s in this box?”

Bandit was kneeling beside the unlabelled, battered looking box.

“You know what, I have no idea. It might have some college stuff in it, I think.”

“Can I look?”

He didn’t give her an answer. Instead he kneeled down beside her, pulling the box closer to him. He pulled at the sellotape, pulling off bits of cardboard with it. He was surprised the box hadn’t disintegrated given the age of it. He pulled the flaps back, exposing the inside of the box. There were bits of paper on the top, crumpled and slightly yellowed. His hands sought out the pile of paper, curiosity gripping at him to inspect the long lost treasure chest. Bandit didn’t ask for permission to start rummaging herself. Gerard was absorbed in looking at the character sketches he’s created in his youth. He couldn’t remember why he had packed the stuff away to be forgotten about. He was a hoarder and kept everything in neat boxes; it wasn’t like him dump his art.

“Dad, who’s this?”

She waved the photograph under his nose, gaining his attention. His heart stopped at the picture in front of him as his fingers retrieved the picture from his daughter’s loose hold. The face that smiled at him brought a pang to his chest that he hadn’t felt in over seventeen years. His mouth went dry as his eyes greedily took in the sight of the raven haired woman in the picture; Her blue eyes were shinning in happiness in the photo, her hands hanging loosely around his neck while his arms cradled her waist. His smile was young and carefree in the photo, matching the woman who held his younger self so closely. Her pale skin was perfect, even without the makeup she wore in the photo.

“Dad?”

Bandit’s voice pulled him out of the daze he found himself in. The words poured out his mouth without any thought in panic.

“Just somebody that I used to know.”

Bandit waited for him to elaborate. After a few seconds of silence her eyebrow raised in an expression of disbelief, mixed with determination.

“Is she your ex or something? What’s her name?”

Gerard cleared his throat, his eyes wandering back to the photo in his hands. He hadn’t thought about her in years. Guilt mixed with a unhealthy dose of indignant anger whenever he remembered, and he learned early on to forget and move on if he wanted his marriage to work. He didn’t realise how successful he’s been in forgetting about her until that very moment. Now that his marriage was over, there was nothing to stop him from letting his mind drift back to her.

“Her name’s Madeline. We were high school sweethearts.”

“High school? You look too old to be in high school in that picture.”

He gave a little chuckle at his daughter’s observational skills.

“We met in high school, but we dated all the way through college.”

“I thought you met mom in college?”

“I did.”

Bandit’s face fell, drawing the logical conclusion.

“You cheated on her with mom?” she asked, her voice laced with disgust.

“It’s more complicated than that, B.”

“How is it complicated? You either cheated, or you didn’t?”

Gerard ran a hand over his face, feeling guilt and stress build up from Bandit’s questioning. He never expected to have to explain his past to his daughter; he had poured every memory tainted with Madeline into the box. He had locked the box away, leaving it to rot just like his memories. Nobody ever mentioned Madeline; they knew better than to rehash the past. They respected his desire to make his marriage work, which meant leaving certain parts of his past buried.

“Technically I didn’t cheat but it’s not as black and white as that.”

Gerard grew quiet, his mind suddenly frazzled and turned to mush as the sight of the photo long since forgotten. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the picture in front of him. Madeline had been everything to him for the best part of seven years. All his firsts had been with her. Now, she was nothing but a stranger to him.

“You loved her, didn’t you?”

Gerard looked at his daughter, shocked to see compassion and sympathy on her face.

“I did, very much so.”

“What happened?”

“That’s a long story B. Short version is that I was young and I did something stupid. Then I met your mom and we had you.”

Bandit bit her lip, curiosity begging her to ask more questions. She was like her mother in so many ways. She liked tales and stories; she loved learning and creating. She also couldn’t stand not knowing the full facts of a story. Her interest was now piqued, and there was no way Gerard would get away with not telling her more. He could try though.

“I wanna know the long version.”

Gerard wanted to tell her no. The word was on the tip of his tongue, ready to put a stop on the conversation before it went any further. Bandit’s big brown eyes pleaded with him to tell her more. She knew so little about his past, and now she knew the reason why. He didn’t blame her for wanting to know more about the person he was, and by extension the woman who had helped shaped the man he became. He had locked that part of his life away for so long, and now that he was staring it in the face, he found that he didn’t want to put it away again.

“I better order that pizza then. This will take a while.”

Bandit smiled in triumph.

Gerard ordered the pizza while Bandit continued to pull bits and pieces out of the box, and by the time he came back she had unearthed more pictures.

“She’s really pretty. Not as pretty as mom though” Bandit quickly added, in fear of appearing disloyal to her mother.

“She was beautiful” Gerard agreed, throwing himself on the couch.

Bandit joined him, pulling her feet on the couch and turned to face him while sitting Indian style.

“So, start from the beginning.” Bandit demanded, her sole attention fixed in hearing her father’s story.

“The beginning, huh? …I guess that takes me back to that first time I saw her in sophomore year..."