Throwback

by Zeia Jameson

  I halt my feet and stand there frozen. With the bourbon coursing through my veins, I am not sure if what I just heard was real. I look over at Jeremy and his expression indicates that it was. Before I have time to react to anything, Nancy repeats herself, but this time in a calmer, more peaceful tone.

  “Livy, I love you. I know you don’t believe me and you may never believe me. I understand that. I’m not trying to get anything from you. I was just hoping you’d hear me out. And when Dad told me you were in trouble with your marriage, I just wanted to try to help. Can you just let me explain? Five minutes? Ten minutes max? And then, if you never want to see or hear from me again, I will go, because I know that is what I deserve.”

  I spin around on my heels and face her. I speak through my teeth. “You abused me. Physically. Verbally. Emotionally. You made me feel worthless. You made me feel like this world had no use for me. If I hadn’t had any common sense, I would have ended up just like you, whoring it up all over town to score drugs. The only reason I am where I am today is because of my own good use of judgment. Don’t you dare stand there and tell me that you love me! Why the fuck should I give you even a second of time to explain whatever it is you came here to say?”

  Nancy stands there silent, giving me no answer to my question. Finally she speaks. “Are you and Jeremy ok?”

  “What?” I say after she asks a question that I never expected to come from her mouth.

  “Are you and Jeremy going to be ok? Your marriage?”

  I look back at Jeremy, who’s still holding Amelia, and they both smile at me. “Yes. We are going to be ok.”

  “Good. I am glad I was able to at least do that for you. I am glad I was able to help. I’ll go now, so you guys can continue on with the party. I am not really sure why I thought this atmosphere would ease the pain a little. Clearly, it was a bad choice.” She looks over at the man who came in with her. “You should at least talk to Ronny, Livy. He didn’t even know you existed until nearly a year ago. He hasn’t done anything wrong.”

  I am beyond confused. Thoughts are swirling around in my head and I just cannot make heads or tails of what has happened tonight. It’s really hard to speak right now. The alcohol has settled and has relaxed me. It’s also got my mind running at five-hundred miles an hour begging for clarity and the return of normalcy. I suddenly have the urge to ask Nancy questions, the need to hear what she has to say and the curiosity to find out how she is involved with the mystery trunk.

  I look at her face, just before she turns to leave, and remembered what it looked like the last time I saw her when I was seventeen. Her face then was sunken, rigid and angular. She always reminded me of the Wicked Witch of the West, minus the green skin tone. Now, her face is round, soft and tan. She looks a lot younger than she used to. She looks healthy. Throw a tiara on her head and she might even pass for Glinda the Good Witch.

  As she begins to walk away, I’m stricken with regret. Why do I feel guilty for watching Nancy walk out of my life? She can’t fix the past and I have no use for her in my life. What could she possibly do or say that would ever allow me to think of her in any other light than how I’ve seen her for all of these years? As a monster.

  But she did have something to do with that trunk. And that trunk had a whole lot to do with the repair of my and Jeremy’s relationship.

  Monsters don’t help people.

  Everyone in the room is staring at me. Nancy walked out the door and went left down the hallway about five seconds ago. All of these people that I trust knew she would be here tonight and none of them thought it was a bad idea. They all even just admitted not less than an hour ago that they helped her with the trunk. Why would they help a monster?

  Monsters don’t ask people for help.

  Why did Nancy come here? She said she had helped Jeremy and me. She brought me my dad. She told me she loved me.

  Monsters don’t love anything.

  Now I feel like if I don’t find out every single tiny detail of what she came here to tell me, I will have some sort of emptiness inside of me that will linger until my dying day.

  I have to know.

  I have to know.

  I push into a full on sprint out the door and down the hallway until I see her waiting at the elevator. “Wait!” Her head was down. She may have been crying. When she hears my plea, her eyes shoot in my direction and give me a look of surprise. There is a very small smile on her face.

  I reach her end of the hallway. My heart is pounding, in combination of the running and the adrenaline of what I am about to do. I can’t believe I am about to do this. I look at her and she looks back at me with hopeful eyes.

  “Stay,” is all I say.

  Tears fall from her eyes and she wraps her arms around me before I have the opportunity to protest. Her hold is so tight and fierce that I can’t even position my arms to reciprocate the hug.

  Not that I would if I had the ability to.

  ~~~

  “Almost three years ago, I got arrested after smashing a beer bottle over a guy’s head at a bar. I was wasted out of my mind when it happened. I don’t even remember much about what happened. Most of the details that I do know are from witness accounts that I had to listen to in court. Lucky for me, the guy I hit was a drug dealer...my drug dealer...and he was arrested too. He went to prison and will be there a while and because of who he was, the judge only gave me probation and forced me to enter into a twelve week rehab program.

  The first two weeks were the worst. I blamed everyone but myself for the position I was in. I was broke. Homeless. Pissed off at the world for the life it had handed me. But one night I had to do a group counseling session and one of the women was talking about how she would never forgive herself because her child almost died choking while she was high on meth. Child services took her child and she was forced into rehab too. Lying in bed, trying to sleep after that session, I thought about you, Livy. I had a clear head and I caught myself missing you and wanting to see you. I had just assumed you left after you turned eighteen but I didn’t know for sure. You could have been dead for all I’d known and I was always too loaded to even bother to care. I cried for two days straight not knowing where you were. It felt like my heart turned on after being shut down for so many years and then someone ripped it out of my chest. I was so angry at myself for treating you the way I did. I wanted to kill myself for raising you that way.

  As the weeks moved on and I talked with counselors, I healed a little. And I vowed to stay sober, get my head and my life right and one day look for you. Even if just to see you from a distance. Just to know you were ok. After rehab, I spent about a year in therapy. Then I tracked down your dad and told him about you. It was part of the twelve steps of recovery. I had to make amends. I didn’t know anything about what was going on in your life yet but I had to tell him you existed either way. If I had found out something bad had happened to you first, I might have chickened out telling him at all.

  Then, about a month ago, I finally worked up the courage to go see my dad. He told me about you and how Jeremy found him. He told me all about you and Jeremy. I told him I wanted to see you but he said it wasn’t the right time because you were on rocky roads with your marriage. He told me that you had trust and communication issues with each other. And I don’t know about Jeremy, but I feel one hundred percent responsible for your issues, Livy. I should have left you with my dad. I should have let him raise you to be a normal little girl. Hell, I should have pulled my head out of my ass and gotten sober so much sooner. But I honestly don’t think I ever would have done that without that state forcing me to, threatening me with prison.

  You are so beautiful, Livy. I never, ever told you that. I remember the day you were born and how I felt that I never regretted for one second deciding to keep you. But I was broken and stupid and eventually my demons overcame me and I lost my way. And you are right. Thank God you had the fortitude to do the right thing, Livy. To leave and be better than me. I pray and thank God for t
hat every day. Because if you had ended up like me…you know, I can’t even imagine that. I am just so thankful you made the choices that you did and that you found Jeremy. No matter what the rest of my life has in store for me, I can be at peace with the fact that despite my seventeen years of being an idiot, you flourished and made a good life for yourself.”

  I am sitting at a table across from her, listening to her words. I am watching her lips move. I have so many thoughts and emotions coursing through me that it is difficult to actually concentrate on what she is saying. She is pouring her heart out to me and trying to explain her life to me. Her tragic past and her courageous recovery. All signs are pointing to her being genuine. However, I cannot help but think I’m being reeled in on some kind of scam. I let her speak and get it all out. I make no interruptions. I ask no questions. I do not give any opportunity to make this a two way conversation.

  She is crying. The man she brought with her is sitting next to her and has an arm wrapped around her back, hugging her into his side. Even though I am not asking questions it doesn’t mean I don’t have a million of them. Like if this is my biological father and he’s only just recently been informed of my existence why does he seems so personable and close to Nancy? Why is he obviously taking her side and supporting her? Why isn’t he furious with her? Why didn’t he come find me as soon as he found out?

  And then I think that not once in my life did I ever have a desire to find or know my father. I had always just assumed that he was some deadbeat one night stand and that Nancy probably couldn’t even point a finger in the direction of who might have provided my paternal genes. In high school, I did sometimes long to have a father. Someone to teach me to do things like change a tire or the basic standard of right-tighty-lefty-loosey. Someone to encourage me to play sports and tell me that confidence is more attractive than lipstick. I had read about this kind of father figure in many books. I had always envisioned my grandfather playing that role. But before I met Jeremy, just as I had my speculations that there were no Prince Charmings, I also believed that there were no perfect fathers. And by the time Jeremy found my grandfather, I had learned all of the things a father should have taught his daughter, all by myself.

  I feel like I should be rejoicing that Nancy is better and is apologizing. I should be elated that she made the effort to bring my father to me. This should be a happy, heartwarming encounter. But in all of those respects I feel nothing. I’m numb.

  My only real feeling is anger. I am so angry. But I don’t want to scream or fight. I just want her to finish what she came here to say so this night can be over.

  “When your grandfather told me you were having marriage issues, I instantly felt I should do something to help. I didn’t really know what to do, but when he told me that you were having trouble communicating, I naturally assumed that your issues with communication stemmed from our relationship—or lack of relationship, I guess I should say. I felt so guilty and I just wanted to help. When I was in rehab, we were encouraged to write down our feelings. Just write it out raw without even thinking. Just write. Then, we were asked to let what we wrote sit for a few days and then go back and read it. And I must say, that method helped me figure out and understand so many things that I’m not sure I would have otherwise. So, I told your grandfather what I wanted to do. He was strongly against it at first, but I suggested that I could still help, even if I was anonymous about it. He thought it over for a few days and then asked me what my plan was. It started out as just an unsigned letter suggesting that you write to each other. But dad had an even better idea. He said it wasn’t just communication. It was that you guys had forgotten who you fell in love with because neither one of you were that person anymore. You were a new mother and Jeremy worked all of the time, both of you determined not to fail. But what you didn’t realize was that you were failing each other. So he decided that we should get the whole family involved to help you two remember why you fell in love to begin with.”

  I turn my head and look behind me. Everyone else from the party is still here and shamelessly eavesdropping. As if scripted, they all nod their heads in unison, confirming what Nancy is saying to be true.

  Rosalie speaks, “None of us wanted to help her at first, Livy. But she swore she was only doing it for your benefit. She promised that the only thing she wanted in return was for us to help her convince you that she was being sincere. I told her we couldn’t make promises because you are pretty damn stubborn, but I told her we’d try. I know it will take time, Livy. But I swear to it that she has come here with true intentions. You are our family, Livy, and I wouldn’t have even entertained the idea if I wasn’t sure.”

  Rosalie just said damn, so she’s serious.

  Nancy chimes in, “Plus Rosalie told me that if I hurt you in any way ever again, she’d make me permanently disappear, never to be found.”

  “Rosalie!”

  “Mom!”

  Jeremy and I exclaim simultaneously.

  Rosalie shrugs, neither confirming nor denying the threat.

  Ronny begins to speak, and it startles me a little, because he’s hardly said anything up to this point. “Livy, let’s just put it all out there. For many years, I thought your mother was a heinous, evil bitch.” Nancy winces but doesn’t argue. “We dated a little over four months and one day she just left. I thought I loved her, and she vanished with nothing more than a note that said “I’m sorry.” It took me almost a year to move on and many years after that to trust anyone again within a relationship. So, when she came banging on my door, I didn’t even want to let her in. But she pleaded and so I did. She told me about you and I was furious. I had a child. A grown child. A girl. A child I never got to be a father to. I was heartbroken. And I wanted to go find you. Immediately. But she wouldn’t even tell me your name or where you were. She told me that she didn’t know where you were but she wanted to find you first. Then she left and gave me her number. She said she would be in touch but to call her if I wanted to. And just like that she was gone. I did call her a few days later. I wanted to ask her about you. Not about who you were, but just general things. Did you make good grades? Were you athletic? How old were you when you learned to walk? She broke down and cried for a long time. Because she didn’t have answers to any of those questions. I asked her to have coffee with me somewhere and she agreed. I picked a place that was quiet and private so we could talk. She told me about you, what she could remember, and she told me about herself...what she could remember. She cried a lot. Told me how regretful she was about the majority of her decisions. And she told me why she left me.”

  Nancy starts crying and manages to speak through her tears, “I was going to have an abortion. I know that’s not something you want to hear from the woman who gave birth to you, but it’s the truth. And I couldn’t do that and stay with Ronny. I didn’t want him to know, so I just left. But when I got to the clinic, I couldn’t go through with it. And I was too proud to go back to Ronny and too ashamed to confess to my dad at the time. So I just left town and settled where I could get a job to afford to take care of us. My pregnancy was great and I was adjusting to the idea of being a mother. I had high hopes and dreams for you and me. But then one night when you were around three-months old, I had some friends from work over. I remember that night like it was yesterday. It was the night that changed our lives. The night I will always regret. I was a social drinker and smoked pot occasionally but that night I was stressed about money and you were screaming because you were teething and I had just had enough. Some girl offered me a pill. Said it would make everything fade away. And it did. I was conscious and aware of everything but I was stressed about nothing. It snowballed from there. I found myself wanting to feel that way all of the time, which led to me partying more. The more I partied the more drugs I was introduced to.”

  She wipes tears from her face. “I seriously do not even know how I took care of you at all. The last clear day I remember having before rehab was the day before I took that pill
. I remember being so stressed out because I had no idea what I was doing with you. It was so hard taking care of you on my own. I was so young and stupid and stubborn. I refused to ask for help and eventually all of the frustration and anger and sadness that I hoarded won and I made a very bad choice. A horrible choice. A choice that I’ve wished I could take back so many times. I would give up my own life if I could go back and make the right choice for you.”

  Her head falls into her hands and her shoulders begin to shake from her sobs.

  A tear falls down my cheek. She’s not pleading to me, parent to child. She’s not playing the apologetic ex-drug addict to her scorned, abused victim. She’s not even professing to me, woman to woman. She’s talking to me, mother to mother.

  And suddenly I get it.

  I reach my hand across the table and lightly clutch her arm which startles her. She looks at me stunned. I draw in a deep breath. “I accepted a long time ago that I am who I am because of my past. And I like who I am. I’m flawed. Yes. But I still like who I’ve become. If it hadn’t been for the path that my life traveled down I may never have met Jeremy. And even though we had some tough times, I don’t want to imagine what life I’d have without him. I’ve hated you for a long time, Nancy, but I’m also grateful for your plan to help out Jeremy and me. I was on the brink of making a bad choice as well. Not with drugs or anything like that. But I had given up on Jeremy and me. I was tired and worn down. I couldn’t fight anymore and I felt like Jeremy had already given up on us. I was too stubborn to leave because I didn’t want Amelia to grow up in a broken home but I was also too stupid to realize that my plan to fake a happy marriage for the benefit of my daughter was never going to work either. It couldn’t have. It wasn’t until Jeremy and I were forced to spend time with each other and communicate and remember who we were that we realized what we’d really become. We’ve grown from that and I think we know better than to go back to that place. We’ve still got some things to work on but we’ll get there.” I wink at Jeremy.