“Fuck!” At the mention of his father, Renn pulled his arm back and hurled the snow globe across the room, missing the large flat screen by a hair. Glass and water and little glittery snowflakes scattered everywhere as it shattered against the wall. “Don’t tell me how hard this isfor you!” he shouted.
At the crashing noise, Archie and the boys came running in from the living room, throwing the French doors wide. They stopped short at the entrance, taking in the scene, as Pete and Renn stared each other down. Gage barreled into my side, pushing his face against my hip. Robbie just stood there with his mouth in an O while Archie assessed the damage. I assumed that, like me, he was recalling the poor mason jar octopus Renn had smashed when he’d found out about Pete potentially being Gage’s father.
Renn looked at all of us in turn before announcing, “Pete was just leaving.”
He glared at his uncle, who looked like he might have something more to say but thought better of it. Instead, Pete muttered “Merry Christmas” and ran out the door to his car.
Renn stuck his hands in his pockets and marched toward his bedroom, declaring, “I just need ten minutes and I’ll be fine.”
Shockingly, Robbie and Gage seemed unsurprised by this turn of events, making it clear to me that they’d seen their brother and uncle butt heads many times. They headed to the kitchen after I reminded them I’d brought cookies, leaving me and Archie to deal with the aftermath in the den. I found cleaning supplies in the hall closet and pulled up most of the glass shards with a small sweeper. Archie produced a shop vac from the garage and suctioned up the rest of the mess. There were a few divots in the drywall from the force of the impact that would need to be filled in another day.
Archie spoke in hushed tones as we worked. “That’s what it’s been like, Sadie—it’s just boiling in Renn, underneath. He doesn’t know what to do with it.”
“I know you warned me that he was still really mad at Pete, but…goddamn.”
He sighed. “Not just Pete, I suspect. Although I’m not a shrink.” I eyed Archie, but he didn’t explain his cryptic statement.
I felt like I’d just witnessed World War III, or at least something on a par with a Gordon Ramsey-hosted reality show. I’d sensed Renn had been concealing the depth of his anger with Pete from me. I was busy with school and work, balancing my own needs so much better in this relationship than I ever had with Henri. But that meant there were some things I could only know if Renn opened up and told me. And he wasn’t talking.
“There’ve been other fights like that?” I asked Archie.
“Well, I’ll admit this was worse than most. He hasn’t broken shit since the studio that day. The snow globe must have been a bridge too far,” Archie said. “It’s usually fighting or silence. Pete tries. Pete fails. Renn blows up eventually. Rinse and repeat.” Seemingly satisfied we were done, he lifted himself up to standing. Just before walking out of the room, he revealed, “Renny was having a bad morning, anyway. Sheryl called to wish him Merry Christmas, and he invited her over, but she said she already had plans. That’s code for she ain’t sober.”
As I knelt alone on the soft gray carpet, stray pieces of glitter embedding themselves in my knee, I played the scene over in my mind. It had been the first time I’d seen such visceral evidence of Renn’s pain and grief since we’d started officially dating. The instinct to comfort him was overwhelming.
The question of how to do that was even more so.
I waited threetimes the ten minutes Renn had asked for before heading to his bedroom, knocking softly. “Renn, I’m coming in.”
He faced the door, sitting on his bed, appearing sheepish. “Sadie, I was just about to come find you. I’m really embarrassed. I’m sorry you had to see that. I feel so stupid, throwing things like a toddler.”
I made sure my tone sounded concerned and not judgmental when I leaned against the doorway and replied, “It’s kind of a go-to move for you, huh?”
He snorted. “I really miss that little octopus.”
His remorse and embarrassment were genuine. I knew that. I understood having to cope. That’s the thing about pain—when you let it live in you, eventually it has to find a way out. In Boston, Henri had always been critical in between bouts of kindness or indifference. But occasionally, he would go on hours-long benders of insulting me over how I looked, how I behaved, all the ways I failed to be a good girlfriend to him. Afterward, I’d go in the shower and sob it out. Not just stand under the spray, but literally curl up in a ball on top of the tiles and bawl while the water rained down on my face, drowning me and my noise.
It wasn’t by accident that Renn hadn’t thrown the octopus or the snow globe near anyone else. Even in the frenzy of the moment, he wasn’t doing it to be violent. He did it because it was the most immediate form of catharsis. I wasn’t saying it was healthy, but I did understand.
He rested his forehead into his fist. “I just wasn’t prepared for all of this today.”
I sat down beside him, leaning my head on his shoulder and grasping his hand in mine. “I know. Archie said you had a crap morning, too.” He had control over himself, so I took a chance on venturing further. “Renn, I’m worried about you. I knew you were still carrying this anger, but I didn’t know it was this bad. Like, eating you from the inside. If things aren’t getting better and it’s been this long, maybe you should consider trying something else. Maybe therapy—”
“No.” He squeezed my hand gently, placating. “I am so glad it worked for you, but it’s just not for me.”
I tilted my chin down sadly. “Well, I think you need to do something, because I love you and it’s difficult to just sit back and watch you go through this.” Lifting my face to capture his gaze, I felt compelled to add, “And I know you’re hurting, but it was really hard for me when you tried to blame me.”
“When I what?”
“Renn, you basically implied this was my fault because I encouraged you to forgive Pete. I get you’re mad, but none of this is on me.”
“I know,” he whispered. “I’m sorry if I did that. Honestly, I was so pissed, I don’t even remember what I said.”
“Even when you were saying it, I knew you didn’t mean it. But it still hurt.”
His face crumpled, as though he was holding back tears. He moved to rest his head in my lap, gripping the hem of my shirt. “I never want to do that to you, Sadie. I love you so much.”
I ran my fingers through his messy curls, still somewhat unsettled, but also sure of his sincerity. And because it was Christmas, and had been a rough day, I didn’t force the issue of him getting a better handle on things. I indulged him in his preferred coping method of avoiding the issue.