Past Perfect Life

by Elizabeth Eulberg

  Neil and I stay silent until we hear the door close, then we start laughing.

  “I’m going to die from embarrassment,” Neil says between his fingers, which are currently hiding his face. “But she means well, I guess.” Neil moves his head around as if he’s trying to place Paula. “She’s a bit awkward.”

  “We just don’t know what to do with each other,” I admit. “But, you know,” I say as I slide closer to him, “I don’t want to talk about Paula anymore.”

  “But whatever should we do?” He taps his finger on his chin. “Hmmm.”

  “Just shut up and get over here.”

  I didn’t need to tell him twice.

  The days in Tampa pre–Neil and Marian dragged and dragged. With them, the time has flown by. The days of fun and feeling like myself are over.

  I’d already cried saying goodbye to Baxter, tucking him into his crate for the flight back to Wisconsin. Paula was adamant that he couldn’t stay. Now I can’t even look at Marian and Neil as we stand outside the security checkpoint at the airport with Paula hovering in the background.

  Marian’s wearing her Mickey Mouse ears we got at Disney. Tears are running down her face, too. “I knew this was going to be hard. Maybe I can come for MLK weekend or something.”

  I hug her for the fortieth time in the past ten minutes. “Thank you for coming. I desperately needed this.”

  She steps away and Neil comes forward. He gives me a kiss on the cheek since Paula’s watching. We had our proper goodbye before we got in the car, and there wasn’t anything proper about it. “Hang in there,” he says in a low voice. His hand is on my back, and my entire body burns from it. “It sucks to say goodbye, but remember, this isn’t for forever.”

  That thought alone is what’s going to keep me going until I can find myself in his arms again.

  Chapter

  FORTY-ONE

  I had a moment of happiness. A glimmer into my old life.

  Then everything came crashing back around me.

  As the TV counted down to the new year, I felt dread, not hope. When I used to look to the year ahead, my mind would be filled with positive thoughts. Not anymore.

  Craig got me a Green Bay Packers calendar when he saw me printing out the month of January before the new year. Every night as I give myself a star for surviving the day, I mentally prepare for the next one. I wake up and get ready. Breakfast is a flurry of everybody eating and making small talk. School is school. I keep my head down. I come home and do homework. Every night is different, but it’s a rotating series of dinners with one or two family members or Sarah and me on our own. I prefer just the two of us. When Paula is at the dinner table, she asks me questions about my day and school. She told me she’s sick of hearing me always respond with “fine” because that’s what this life is. Fine.

  A little over a week into the new year, on day twenty-seven of my sentence, Sheriff Gleason calls. I sit down as he delivers the news: the grand jury has issued their indictment against Dad. He’s being charged with thirty-three counts. Thirty-three. There are two kidnapping charges, two for interference of custody, ten counts of forgery, and then I kind of blank out. It’s too much to take.

  But he has a suggestion for me, and I’m going to do everything I can to help Dad.

  The biggest hurdle is that I need Paula’s help.

  I find her rushing around the kitchen, putting together her version of Taco Tuesday. I offer to help, but I still don’t know where most of the items she needs are and I end up mostly being in the way.

  I appreciate that they’re doing this for me. I mentioned it one night when Craig asked me about the meals I used to have. Craig thought it sounded like a great idea and we should do it.

  Since we had a tradition for almost each day of the week, I’m reminded every day about something we’d done. I get the saddest on Wednesday. That was when we’d watch a really bad movie. We would laugh so much at the horrible dialogue, bad special effects, and how on earth something like Troll 2 could have been made. Like, the original Troll was such a hit, Hollywood thought the people needed more! Then we went through a phase where we’d only watch those movies where some species would be mega or combined with another species. I, of course, am talking about the cinematic masterpieces featuring Mega Python, Dinoshark, or Zombeavers, or something of the ilk. And I have zero shame in admitting that a new Sharknado was like Super Bowl Sunday to us.

  Dad and I had started to come up with our own movie we were going to try to sell to the Syfy channel. It featured a starfish that has been exposed to nuclear waste and descends on a tiny beach town right before the one major event of the season when all the local businesses get all their money. An environmentalist tries to warn the sheriff (who, of course, is his ex-lover), but the shady town mayor looks the other way as people in the town start disappearing.

  Seriously, this stuff writes itself.

  Yeah, it was silly, but these were our traditions. They were what made me me. They gave me stability.

  I push away these thoughts as I cut up the veggies for Paula.

  “So,” I begin, but she interrupts.

  “Your birthday is coming up in two weeks,” Paula says brightly. “Any idea what you want to do?”

  No, because I already had my eighteenth birthday.

  “Maybe we should have a big party. You can invite some friends. From school,” she clarifies.

  I don’t reply. We both know it’s been difficult for “Allison Johnson” to make any real friends.

  “You need to make more of an effort at school. Join a club. And maybe if you didn’t spend all your free time talking to your other friends, you would meet some new people.”

  “I’ve known Marian and Neil for a really long time. It makes me feel better to talk to them.” I know I’m bringing up a touchy subject for her. She doesn’t want to talk about anything in my past life. But it was my life. My real life.

  “Well, you’re here now.” She wipes her hand on a towel, almost as if she’s wiping away this conversation—and my old life—away. “So we are going to celebrate your birthday because it’s the first I’m having with you since you were three. You can either tell me what you want or I’ll do something.”

  “We can just go out to dinner, the four of us.”

  “We can do that anytime,” she argues.

  “Oh, well …” I don’t know what to say. She asked me what I wanted; that’s what I want. But, like with everything else since I got here, I try to guess what would make her happy. “Or we can have the whole family over. Might be fun. I would like to get to know the extended family more.”

  That’s not entirely a lie. A few of my cousins are nice. Then there are others who treat me like I’m a freak. I think they expect some damaged person. The kidnapped girl.

  Paula brightens up. “That sounds like a plan!” She claps her hands and starts making notes. I’ve never wanted a party where the focus is all on me.

  Paula wouldn’t know that. Besides, she has a vision of what she wants my party to be, what my life should be, where I should go to college …

  What I want really seems irrelevant at this point. What kind of life is that?

  So I’ll go along. I’ll have the party. I’ll smile and eat cake.

  “Sheriff Gleason called,” I blurt out.

  Paula freezes, her shoulders automatically tense.

  “Yeah, he explained all the charges against my dad.” I tear off the bandage. “I’d like to be there for sentencing. I want to give a statement.”

  “Absolutely not. Your father is finally going to do something right and plead guilty.”

  “I know, but my testimony may help reduce his sentence.” What I don’t tell her is that I really, really need to see him. If I’m in the courtroom, I can at least look at him with my own eyes. Although I realize I may not like what I see. Sheriff Gleason also mentioned that Dad’s a little down and has lost some weight, but Dad’s main concern is always how I’m doing.

  �
��No,” Paula states firmly as she grips the sides of the counter. “Your father committed a crime, and he should be punished.”

  “He is being punished. But I want the judge to see I’m fine. He took great care of me. He pushed me to be a good student. I wouldn’t have gotten the grades I did if it wasn’t for him.”

  “What a saint.” The bitterness in her voice has reached a new level.

  “I’m sorry that you don’t want to hear that, but it’s true. And since we’re on the topic, I’d like to finally talk to his family. You can’t keep me from my aunt and grandmother.”

  She turns around, and her face is filled with anger. “Yes, I can. You can talk to them when you finally start acting like a part of this family. Oh, believe me, you’ve been quite clear on how much your father means to you. Yes, you’ve made that obvious. I know he poisoned you against me.”

  Paranoid much, Paula?

  She’s been convinced this entire time that Dad bad-mouthed her. But he didn’t because I had thought she was dead. All I do know of our relationship when I was little is that I didn’t want to spend time with her when I was three years old.

  So maybe I am the same person I was when I was taken.

  “Dad never poisoned me—”

  “I don’t want to hear it!” She raises her voice at me. “I’ve tried to think about your feelings, but you really don’t seem to be concerned about mine. I am your mother. You are my daughter. This is my time with you.”

  I decide to raise my voice as well. “Well, I’m here, aren’t I?”

  “You won’t even call me Mom.”

  “And you don’t call me Ally.”

  “ALLY IS NOT YOUR NAME!” she screams back. “You’re just as stubborn as your father. Why can’t you adjust?”

  “And why can’t you acknowledge how unfair this has been for me?” I scream back.

  This actually feels good. Getting all of it out in the open. The Ally I’ve been burying to make Paula happy is starting to fight to come back to the surface.

  And she’s super pissed.

  “WHAT ABOUT ME? All this time I’ve done everything you’ve asked. I’ve left my friends, my dog. I’ve worn the clothes you want me to. I’ve gone to every family function you want. I am here because this is what you want. You don’t want to know anything about me. You have this idea of who you want me to be, and, guess what, I’m not her. I’m sorry I’m not this perfect daughter you have had in your head all this time, but I’m sick of pretending to be something I’m not.” I’m shaking, I’m so mad. And I’m so tired of keeping everything bottled inside.

  “You have put forth ZERO effort!” She points her finger at me.

  “ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW? Have you not listened to a word I just said?”

  “Don’t you dare talk to me like that!” She comes over and grabs me by my shoulders.

  Craig runs into the kitchen. “What on earth is going on? I heard shouting all the way in the garage.”

  Paula ignores him. “I don’t know what kind of vulgar child your father has raised you to be, but I don’t want to hear his name ever again. Is that clear?”

  Craig puts his arm around Paula to comfort her, but also to separate us. “Paula, please calm down.”

  “This is not my fault!”

  “AND IT’S NOT MINE, EITHER!” Tears are streaming down my face. I let out a sob. I’m not going to hold it in anymore. It’s been nothing but pure torture.

  “JUST STOP IT!” She holds her hands in front of my face. “We are not talking about it anymore. PERIOD.” She shoves Craig away as she runs out of the kitchen.

  “Ally, are you okay?” Craig asks, but I run upstairs.

  Of course I’m not okay.

  I have tried. I’ve played along, but it will never be enough. And I am so done.

  With shaking hands, I call Marian.

  “Hey!” she answers cheerily.

  I let out another agonizing sob.

  “Oh my God, what’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

  I can’t reply, because breathing is nearly impossible.

  “Please, say something,” Marian pleads.

  “I—I—” I stutter out. “I need you to get everybody together.”

  “Of course. I’ll send out the Ally signal. Whatever you need.”

  I don’t want to be a burden. I don’t. But I can’t live this life anymore. It’s too much.

  I try to steady my breath. “I have to get out of here, and I’m going to need everybody’s help.”

  There’s a slight pause. “Oh, Ally, we thought you’d never ask.”

  Chapter

  FORTY-TWO

  Once Old Ally surfaced, she wasn’t going to be buried again.

  After Marian and Neil left, I didn’t have anything to look forward to. My calendar was an endless sea of blank days I had to survive. But then I had a goal, a plan.

  I had to get through fifteen days.

  Day by day, I went through the motions.

  Breakfast, school, homework, dinner.

  Paula and I were polite to each other, but cool. Sarah and Craig tried to talk to me, to make things better, but I simply replied that everything was “fine” and “okay.”

  Breakfast, school, homework, dinner.

  I sat at the dinner table and nodded along with everybody’s stories. I’d answer questions about school when asked. But I wasn’t really there anymore.

  Breakfast, school, homework, dinner.

  I had an end game. It made the charade that much easier.

  Breakfast, school, homework, dinner.

  And now the day I’ve been waiting for arrived.

  This is my final performance as The Good Daughter. I’m going to smile, play along, and let Paula have her moment. This is for her. It’s the last thing I’m doing for her.

  Paula is fluttering around the room, chatting with people and laughing. She’s the belle of the ball, while Sarah and I sit on a couch, both on our phones.

  Sarah looks up at her mom. “Look at her! She can’t concentrate on one person for too long. You’d think this was her birthday party.”

  Paula goes over to hug … I think it’s my cousin Molly, but I’m not sure. I’m too embarrassed at this point to ask who people are again. I only remember Randy since he’s the one who always comes up to me to talk about my “fame.” He already cornered me earlier, telling me I need secure a book deal now because “interest is waning.” Those three words were the best things I’ve heard come out of his mouth. Oh, he also offered to be my manager.

  Yeah, I’m going to pass on that one.

  “There you are.” Grandma Amanda sits next to me on the couch and gives me a kiss on the forehead. “I know you said you didn’t want any presents.”

  “Can you believe it?” Sarah says. “Everybody here owes her like years’ and years’ worth of presents.”

  That was my only request for today that was actually taken into consideration. At this point, Paula and Craig have given me too much.

  Grandma Amanda hands me a tiny wrapped box.

  “You shouldn’t have,” I reply.

  “I’m your grandmother; I’m supposed to spoil you.” She gives my leg a pat as I begin to delicately tear the wrapping paper. I open the box and find a silver pendant shaped like a sundial. “It was my mother’s,” she explains as she starts to put it around my neck. “She said that with this you always know when you are, not necessarily where you are, and, well, I think it suits you.”

  “I can’t,” I protest.

  “Nonsense, every one of my grandchildren gets something from my mother when they turn eighteen. I’m happy that I am able to give it to you.”

  I touch the necklace as it lies on my chest. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” She takes my hand. “Listen, Ally, being an adult means you have to sometimes make tough decisions.”

  A lump gets caught in my throat. I have made a tough decision. And it’s going to affect everybody in this room.

  S
he cups my chin with her hand. “Even when you were gone, all I ever wanted was for you to be safe and happy.”

  “I was.”

  She smiles at me. “I know. And I want you to also be happy now.”

  That’s all I want, too.

  I open my mouth, but we’re interrupted by Paula clinking her glass.

  “Can I have your attention?” Paula says. “Just for a moment.”

  “That means shut up, Randy!” one of my older cousins, or maybe an uncle, shouts to the laughter of the group.

  Paula smiles as she looks around the room and finally settles on me. “I can’t tell you how thrilled I am that this day has finally come. My baby is back home for her birthday. And she’s an adult! Eighteen.” She shakes her head in disbelief. “I’ve had some dark times during most of those eighteen years, but our Amanda has come back to the light. I’m so proud of the woman you’ve become. My beautiful, smart daughter.”

  As much as we don’t understand each other, Paula has loved me every day for the past eighteen years, even though she had no idea where I was or even if I was alive. I hope someday I can repay her with that kind of love. But love takes time. As does trust.

  “Speech!” someone calls out.

  See, this is how much my Florida family doesn’t know me. There’s no way anybody back home would ask me to make a speech. They would know how horrified I’d be. If I were ever in this position, someone would save me. Dad or Neil or any of the Gleasons.

  Yet nobody is saying anything. They’re waiting for me. And I do owe them something. There are going to be a lot of questions soon, so better let them know that it’s not them, it’s me.

  I stand up and feel a bit wobbly on my feet. “Thank you.”

  “Speak up!” someone else shouts at me.

  “Thank you,” I say louder. “Ah, I’m not good with public speaking, but it means a lot to me that you are all here. I know many of you have memories about me from when I was little, and I’m sorry I don’t remember them. I’ve missed a lot, but we have plenty of holidays and other occasions to make new ones. And I look forward to that.”

  It’s true. There can be a future with my Florida family. I’ve got my whole entire life to make up for lost time. Thing is, it doesn’t need to be right now. Family bonding can’t be forced. It’s something that will happen gradually.