I nod in all the right places. Somebody’s on a man hunt. And she’s accepting all applicants with a big wallet, a penis, and a beating heart. Good luck with that.
The scene at the café plays out in much the same way as the sushi joint: Maddie orders a lot of food. But unlike the sushi place nothing here goes to waste. She inhales a plate of eggs, hash browns, sausage, bacon and ham, as well as three pancakes the size of dinner plates, all dripping in syrup. When I don’t eat the sausage links that came with my eggs and toast, she eats those too. This chick could compete in eating competitions. She must have lightning fast metabolism.
When we return to the apartment I grab my clothes off the sofa. “Thanks again for putting up with me for a few days, Maddie.”
She holds up a finger and begins walking away. “Just a minute, I’ll be right back.”
I stand there less than a minute before I remember that I didn’t have my razor in the shower this morning. I must have left it in Maddie’s shower. While I’m waiting for her I may as well grab it. The guest bathroom door is shut but she keeps Princess in there when she’s not home. I slowly open the door, but as I do I hear the contents of Maddie’s belly empty into the toilet with a disgusting splash. The smell is overwhelming. My own stomach heaves. “Maddie, are you all right?”
I expect her to look sweaty or stricken, like the victim of some sort of freakishly violent food poisoning. She’s sitting on the edge of the tub holding her long blond curls back delicately hovering above the toilet careful not to touch anything. It’s the oddest thing. She looks purposeful and poised. I don’t know about anyone else, but when I pray to the porcelain god I huddle on the floor in front of it slumped over in submission. I’m a damn mess.
“What the hell, Kate?” She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand before quickly flushing. Her face flushes red and I can’t tell if she’s pissed because she’s embarrassed or pissed because she’s, well, just pissed.
“Sorry Maddie. I didn’t know you were in here. I thought I forgot my razor and I was—”
“You could have knocked!”
I’m speechless as I watch her scrub her hands, rinse her mouth with mouthwash, and then fix her hair in the mirror. If I didn’t just witness her deposit $14.95 worth of brekky into the john, I wouldn’t believe it looking at her now. She’s completely unaffected and it creeps me the hell out. The alarm starts blaring in my head like an air raid siren. All the pieces fit together now: the binging at meals, the obsession with working out, using the bathroom immediately after eating, her frighteningly thin body – she’s bulimic.
“Maddie, we seriously need to talk about this.” I gesture to the toilet, because I don’t want to put her on the defensive by putting a name on her issue.
She shrugs with one shoulder, which tells me she’s not into this conversation at all. “There’s nothing to talk about.” The irritation is gone from her voice. And I think I liked the anger better, because now she’s impassive. And you can’t talk to impassive people. They put up walls that deflect everything.
I follow her out to the living room. “Maddie, listen, no judgment … honestly. Please just let me help you with this.”
She lets out the most emotionless laugh I’ve ever heard. “You’re going to help me? That’s rich. What are you, eighteen?”
“Maddie, you’re my aunt, my family. I care, okay, that’s all I’m saying. How long has this been going on?”
“Little Kate, you’re so naïve.” It’s the patronizing, I’ll-talk-to-you-like-a-five-year-old tone again. But I don’t care, because at this moment all I want is to get through to her.
“Naïve? Maddie, you just threw up your goddamn breakfast in the toilet … on purpose.”
“Kate dear, it’s nothing.” Her face is cool and nonchalant.
I shake my head but I don’t take my eyes off hers. This can’t be real. “Dude.” It’s pleading and sad.
She shakes her head back at me. “Kate, I only binge and purge every now and then. It’s not like it’s a habit. Sometimes I just get really hungry. This way I can eat a lot, but I don’t gain any weight. It’s a win-win.” She’s trying to convince me with her dazzlingly white smile.
“Dude, it is not a win-win. You’re screwing with your body. Bodies don’t like to be screwed with. At some point they rebel.” A person knowingly doing harm to his or her body is a pet peeve of mine. A lot of people would give anything for a healthy body. Your body is a temple. You don’t shit on the temple.
She dismisses me with a wave of her hand like she’s done so many other times this week. I’m losing her. She won’t listen. And I don’t have any frame of reference, no inside knowledge on the topic. I don’t know what to say, so without thinking I say the same thing I always say to Gus about his smoking, “You should quit.” I feel stupid when I say it.
Her eyes are burning with anger now. I’ve pushed her too far. She takes a deep breath and says, “Kate, I think you should leave.”
Yup, definitely overstepped my bounds. I’ve outed her secret and she’s furious, rightfully so. I need to give her some space. I gather my clothes and head for the door. “Thanks again for not burning my clothes.”
I wait for her response, but there’s nothing. Not even you’re welcome or kiss my ass. It’s the oppressive silent treatment. It sends a shiver through me. I look back, and suddenly I’m not in the room with Maddie anymore; I’m in the room with Janice Sedgwick. Maddie has taken on the image of my mother; even the way she’s carrying her weight on her left foot and has her arms crossed. They could be the same person. My mother wasn’t a monster. She just couldn’t always help it. When she didn’t take her meds she wasn’t herself, and when she did take her meds she wasn’t herself. Mental illness is no joke. There were times she was loving and kind. The rest of the time she was angry or indifferent. Anger and indifference are completely different, but when you’re a kid on the receiving end of either they’ll break your heart. I learned early on not to take it personally, but when she did it to Grace, it shattered me. I tried to make sure that never happened. On the rare occasion that I failed, I hated myself for it.