Lauren was bursting with excitement as she parked in front of the Seven-Eleven on Ocean Avenue. Her mother’s shift ended at midnight. She couldn’t wait to tell her about her new job. Usually Lauren went inside and bought a Slurpee before taking her mother home, but tonight her mom was out the door before Lauren shut the car off. Lauren sighed as she saw the look on her face. Mom was wearing the deepest of frowns. Lauren didn’t know what went on tonight but she knew her mother would be in no mood to listen to her. She sighed. Maybe she’ll feel better tomorrow, she thought.
Her mother slammed the car door as she got in.
“What happened?” Lauren asked quietly.
“Nothing,” she replied. “Let’s go home.”
Mom didn’t bother to ask how Lauren’s night went as they drove back to their apartment on Magnolia Street near the Mission District. Actually, she didn’t say a single word during the entire eight-minute drive. Lauren felt anger rise through her chest but she pushed it back down. It’s not her fault, she told herself. I’m sure she’s happy for me, but it’s just not a good time right now.
After they arrived home, her mother unlocked the heavy iron gate that led to the entrance of their apartment. After Lauren entered the foyer, Mom locked the gate again. They climbed the three flights of stairs to their apartment, her mother racing ahead of her. I guess she isn’t that tired, Lauren thought. Usually Mom turned on the TV and watched it for a little while before she went to bed, but not tonight. When Lauren entered the apartment, everything was dark. Her mother must have gone straight to bed. When that happened, Lauren usually followed her in there and asked what was wrong, but she was too exhausted. Her mother never told her any of her problems anyway. She went into the bathroom, where she brushed her teeth and readied herself for bed.
Her bedroom was supposed to be a pantry, but the shelves were taken out to make room for a cot. It was somewhat weird to sleep practically in the kitchen, in a room that was only fifty square feet, but she didn’t mind it all that much. When she closed the curtain to her room and turned on the light, it was really nice and cozy. The wall over her bed had pictures of the French countryside tacked to it. Most of them she ripped out of magazines, but a few were photographs sent by her friend and former classmate, Remi, who lived in Provence. The shelves on the opposite side of the room gave her plenty of space for her stuff. The left side shelves were for all her clothes, which were stacked up neatly and the other side were for her books, jewelry, stuffed animals and her collection of empty wine bottles. Since her mother was a recovering alcoholic, she could never have any full bottles in the apartment, but as long as they remained out of sight, the empty bottles were okay. Lauren would sometimes buy fresh flowers from a street vendor and put them in them in the bottles. She had some nice vintages, like a St. Emilion from 1943, which she bought at a flea market, but she was missing the crown jewel, an empty bottle of Dom Perrignon. She couldn’t get a hold of any while at Newbury, but if she kept an eye on the recycle bin at Michele’s, she could probably grab one before they hauled it away.
She tried to sleep, but after an hour gave up. She turned the light above her bed back on. Since she had some free time on her hands, she figured she would write a letter to Remi. It had been two weeks since she received his letter, but she hadn’t had time to write him back. He’s probably starting to get worried, she thought.
She took a pen and a piece of notebook paper from under her bed and using one of her old college textbooks for support, wrote her letter. She told him all about her new job, how her first day went, and how she already took a liking to her new boss. She smiled as told him her boss was super cute, even though he was probably thirty or forty something. She liked teasing Remi and making him jealous. She asked him how life on the vineyard was going. She felt better as she signed, ‘Yours Truly, Lauren’. She folded the letter into thirds and stuck it in an airmail envelope. She would send it out before she went to work tomorrow. About an hour had passed since she started writing the letter and her eyes were feeling a little bit heavy. She turned out the light and this time, she quickly fell asleep.
She woke up the next morning and saw the light streaming in underneath the curtain in her doorway. Luckily, Michele’s didn’t serve breakfast so she didn’t have to be at work until one. She emerged in the kitchen expecting her mother to be up, but she wasn’t. Lauren didn’t think it was a big deal, though. She had a rough night. She assumed Mom was sleeping in.
Since it was Mother’s Day, Lauren decided to make her breakfast instead. She would bring it into her bedroom. Maybe that would cheer her up enough so she could talk to her about last night at Michele’s. Perhaps Lauren would find out what was bothering her. It was probably a bunch of teenaged boys that gave her a hard time or perhaps some asshole who was convinced he was being overcharged for his cigarettes. That’s what it usually was on those rare occasions Lauren could get any information out of her.
Surprisingly, they had a well-stocked fridge this week, so Lauren made eggs, bacon and sausage. They had a bag of fresh onions, so she chopped one up and put it into the eggs. With the plate of food in one hand and a fresh cup of orange juice in the other, she went into her mom’s bedroom.
Once she entered the room, she knew something wasn’t right. Her mother was a very light sleeper. If Lauren went into her room, she usually woke up, but she didn’t today.
Lauren stepped over the pile of dirty clothes on the floor and put the plate of food on her nightstand.
“Hey Mom,” Lauren said, “I’ve got a surprise for you. Happy Mother’s Day.”
She hoped that would wake her up, but she didn’t stir even the slightest bit.
Oh shit, she thought, we’ve got a problem here.
“Mom,” she said, trying to shake her awake. “Mom, I made breakfast for you. Wake up.”
Lauren noticed she looked awfully pale. Perhaps she was sick.
“Mom! It’s time to wake up!”
Lauren’s stomach fluttered with panic when her mother didn’t respond. She didn’t want another repeat of Christmas Eve, but something told her it was happening again.
Lauren pulled the top drawer of her mother’s dresser open and rummaged through it. There it was--a box of fifty sleeping pills. Lauren opened the box and emptied the contents. Two empty packets fell onto the floor.
Trying to suppress her tears, she ran to the phone in the kitchen and dialed 911. She had no idea when she took those pills, so hopefully it wasn’t too late. Lauren thought of last Christmas. The doctor told her it was a miracle her mother made it. Tears streamed down her face as she told the dispatcher the same thing she said only a few months before. She hoped she would pull through this time too.
Chapter 79
What They Left Behind Page 80
