by Andrea Ring
“But I said the worst thing imaginable. I…I knew she was sick, and I knew she couldn’t help it, but I hurt her anyway.”
Dr. Jones pats my arm. “Leni, I’ve been on the receiving end of a child’s hurtful words. It’s not always easy to hear those things, but trust me. They don’t drive a mother to this.”
“But it might have pushed her over the edge,” I say.
“You can’t…” And then Dr. Jones stops and looks me in the eye. “There’s nothing I can say to you to ease your guilt. The only advice I can give you is to try not to let it consume you. Forgive yourself. We all say things we don’t mean, or do things we wish we hadn’t or…don’t do things we wish we had.” She sighs. “The only reason I’m about to tell you this is that I know Clark’s talked to you about it. I knew my brother was an alcoholic. It started in college, when he seemed to party more than study, and we all thought he’d grow out of it. We had a happy childhood, a normal family. No divorce, no abuse…there was no reason to think he’d develop a life-long problem.” She sighs again. “We made so many excuses for him, my parents and I. Even when he turned mean, we made excuses. After Clark was born, I thought he’d change. I thought he’d change for his child.”
“I think that’s what my dad always thought with my mom,” I say. “That she’d change because of her children.”
Dr. Jones nods. “It’s logical. You’d think there would be no greater impetus to turn your life around. But my point is, I should have done something for Clark sooner. He suffered so much, and I just let it happen.”
“But you didn’t,” I say. “You saved him. He’s the best person I’ve ever met, and that’s because of you.”
She shakes her head. “Part of that might be true. But it’s also true that Clark is just that strong. In the end, it had very little to do with me.”
“So even though the story has a happy ending, you still have regrets.”
“Regrets,” she says. “Such an innocuous word. More like deep-seated guilt, disappointment in myself, daily self-recrimination.” She smiles ruefully. “I’ve always been great at pep talks.”
I choke on the laugh bubbling in my throat.
“I had no idea you were dealing with this.”
“It’s okay,” I say. “It’s not…it was coming. Why should you have any idea what’s going on with me?”
“Clark, he…I want you to know he doesn’t tell me anything private. Beyond your food preferences, of course.”
I shrug.
“But I feel he should have told me this.”
“Why?” I ask. “There’s nothing you can do.”
“No, but I’m a pretty good listener.”
“So is Clark,” I say.
“Yes, he is. He…I think he’s smitten with you.”
“Smitten?” I say, smiling.
“Yes, smitten.” She smiles back at me.
“Are you trying to cheer me up? ‘Cause it’s totally working.”
“A bit,” she says, dipping her head. “But really, I came to see if you were alright, and if you need a friend. Leni, what can I do to help you?”
“Well, I…” And then I pause. This is an opportunity. I was about to thank her gratefully for her concern and send her on her way, but I realize I have an opportunity here to get some actual guidance from someone who doesn’t blame me for screwing up her life.
I start again. “I made a rash decision last night, and even today, I don’t think it’s a bad decision, but I’d like to hear your opinion.”
“Of course.”
“I got into an argument with my father, about my mom. This was before we got the call that she was sick. I told him he needed to realize,” and I take a deep breath, “that Mom wasn’t going to get better, and that I decided not to go to Stanford, even though I got in on early decision, so I could stay close to them and help with Bea. Basically…basically, my dad said I needed to go away, because Mom can’t heal with me hanging around. I’m like a constant reminder of my little brother.”
“You have a brother?”
“My two-year-old brother drowned at the beach when I was five. A family outing. I was supposed to be watching him.”
Dr. Jones sucks in a loud breath, and I lower my eyes as soon as I see tears gather in hers.
“So I told him, fine, I’ll move out when I turn eighteen.”
She grabs a napkin from her sandwich bag and turns away from me, dabbing her eyes.
“So…when is that?”
“Two weeks,” I say.
She sniffs and looks me in the eye. “Do you have a plan?”
“Clark asked me the same thing. I found an apartment. I have money. I just…I’m afraid of being alone. First Jay dumped me because I wouldn’t go to Stanford with him. Then Baby T’s not speaking to me because, well, I’m taking a stand and she hates me for it, but it’s the right thing to do and I’d do it again. Then my parents don’t want me around, and now I have Clark, thank God I found Clark, and he asked me to move in with him, and it would be so easy, you know? Because I’m not alone when I’m with him, and he sees me, the real me, even with all the mistakes I’ve made, he doesn’t care, and I love the way the ring in his eyebrow kinda flaps up when he raises an eyebrow at me, and he gives the tightest hugs I’ve ever gotten, like he doesn’t want to let go, and I love the way he questions everything and makes me reconsider even my most cherished truths, and I hurt him, telling him I couldn’t move in with him, I know it hurt him, and it hurt him when I told him I loved him, because he wants to say it back but he can’t, he’s just not ready to give that last piece of himself, and I swear, if I knew it would hurt him, I would never have said it, except I feel it, you know? I had to say it. I love him. It’s my truth. And you should see him with Bea.”
“Bea?”
“My baby sister.”
“Clark’s been here?”
“He came last night to watch football with my dad, and while we were arguing, Bea woke up and Clark rocked her back to sleep.”
I glance sideways at Dr. Jones, afraid to meet her eyes. Why do I always have diarrhea of the mouth when I’m around her?
She’s staring out the window into the backyard, one hand covering her mouth. I’ve already said too much; I’m not about to add to it.
She stands up and walks over to Bea, who’s looking at a book upside down.
“I used to think there was only one path. Finish high school. Go to college. Get a graduate degree. Start a career. Build a career. Start a family.” She laughs. “Exactly that order, no deviation. Then Clark came along. I thought, okay, he has a stable home now, food in his belly, books at his fingertips, money, good schools. He’ll be fine. He’ll follow the path.”
Dr. Jones turns to me.
“I must have repeated those steps in my head every night into my pillow for the first two years I had him. But he bucked me at every turn. The path I thought was inevitable was not for him.” She sits back down next to me. “I realized that there are infinite paths, each one unique to the person traveling it. Your path would not have been right for me, but my path is not necessarily right for you.” She pats my hand. “Do you want to stay here, at home?”
“No,” I say quietly. “I have to get out. But I can’t leave Bea here, either.”
“Are your parents neglectful?” she asks with a frown.
“Not neglectful, but my mom is mentally ill. She goes from over-protective one minute to crying in bed all day the next. And my dad just doesn’t get it. I’m afraid to leave Bea with her, especially after this.”
Dr. Jones purses her lips in a gesture that reminds me of Clark.
“You might need to get a lawyer, Leni.”
“They’ll let me take her,” I say. “They want me to take her.”
I see anger flash across her face at that. “I understand your sense of responsibility, and I admire it. But I’ve been a single parent. It’s not as easy as they make it look in the movies. And I had a career, a home. I’m financially stable.”<
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“I have money. A lot of money.”
“It’s never enough, trust me,” she says. “So you’re really doing this?”
I nod.
She sighs. “Clark would take care of you, you know.”
My mouth falls open. “You think I should move in with him?”
She shakes her head. “Honestly, no. I still believe two people should be married before living together, and the last thing you need is to get pregnant.”
“I can’t get pregnant,” I say. “I had ovarian cancer and a hysterectomy.”
“My God, you can’t catch a break, can you?” Dr. Jones eyes fill with tears again.
“I’m okay with it. Maybe it will bother me someday, but not now.”
Bea toddles over to us and throws her book at me.
“Hey!” I say, and we all laugh.
“We’re not paying enough attention to her,” Dr. Jones says.
I sit on the carpet and pull a ball out from the basket under the coffee table. Bea and I roll it back and forth.
“I think whatever path you choose will be the right one,” Dr. Jones says. “It will be hard, and there will be days you’ll question yourself, and you’ll rail at God, and the heavens, and Fate. Especially that nasty bitch Fate.”
I laugh.
“But you love your sister. And I know you love Clark. If you keep those facts in mind, everything will work out.”
She hugs me at the door.
“Do you think you’ll be back at school this week?”
“I’m hoping, but I doubt it,” I say.
“I’ll send someone over with your work.”
“Thank you, Dr. Jones.”
“Linda. Call me Linda.”
***
Mom was put on 72-hour suicide watch, and Dad kept a vigil at her bedside. She was released from the hospital on Friday morning, and they decided she would stay at Aunt Rhonda’s for the time being.
Translation: until I left.
On Saturday morning, Dad comes home with what smells like a hangover and looks like the beginnings of a beard.
“Your mother’s fine,” he says straight off, heading directly to his room. He closes the door.
“Thanks for asking,” I whisper. “So are we.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
When Saturday night comes, and I’ve put Bea to bed, and I cannot possibly stand one more moment in this house—though we took quite a few walks, I didn’t have a car seat for Bea—I knock on Dad’s door. He hasn’t emerged since he went in there this morning.
“Dad?”
No answer.
“Dad?” I open the door and find him sitting on the bed, clothed exactly as he was when he left Monday night. “Are you okay?”
He clears his throat. “Long week.”
“Can I…are you hungry? Can I make you something?”
“I…no.”
“Do you think…I put Bea to bed, she’s asleep. Would it be okay if I go out for a little bit?”
“Bea? Oh. She’s asleep?”
“Yes.”
“Fine. That’s fine.”
I stand there awkwardly. “Do you…want to talk?”
He shakes his head. “Not now.”
“Okay. I’ll be back by midnight.”
“Leni?”
I turn back to him, and it hurts me to see the weak man that he is.
“You were right.”
I nod, then leave.
***
I wish Clark were here, but he’s grading papers, and he can’t help me with this anyway. Gabi invited me to a bonfire at Corona del Mar, and she said Baby T will be there and is willing to talk to me.
At least someone will talk to me.
I spot our crowd well before they spot me. They’re all there—Gabi and Baby T, Raz and Johnny, Woz and Anita, Jay and Emily. Christ, I so don’t need this. But I force myself to continue, thinking only of Baby T and that I need to set things right with her.
Woz is the first one to see me, like he has some built-in radar where I’m concerned. He slips out of the group silently and catches up to me a couple of rows away.
“Hey. Someone said your mom’s been sick.”
“Yeah.”
“That really sucks. I hope she’s okay.”
“Thanks, Woz.”
He smiles. “So where’s loverboy?”
“Working. Unlike all you boys, he’s making a living.”
“Ouch,” he says, clutching his chest. “I deserve that. So what’s up with you and T?”
“You don’t know?”
He shakes his head.
“Difference of opinion. I came to work it out.”
“Not to apologize?” he asks.
“Nope. I wasn’t wrong.”
“T might not agree with you.”
I squint at Baby T through the smoke. “Still?”
“You think there’s gonna be a cat fight?”
I laugh. “I seriously doubt it.”
“That’s not a no.”
“No!”
“Damn it.” Woz kicks the sand. “So it has to do with Raz.”
My eyes widen. “So you do know.”
“Not officially. But we all know what’s going on.”
I blow out a frustrated breath. “Then how come you haven’t done anything about it?”
“I can’t speak for the rest, but I’ve talked to him. He’s changed, Leni. He’s not the same guy we grew up with. You can’t reason with him.”
“That’s not helpful,” I say.
“I know. I just want you to know that I agree with you. I’ll back you, whatever you say to Baby T.”
“You don’t even know what I’ve said, or what I’m going to say.”
“I trust you.”
He hugs me with one arm, and I hug him back.
“You’re a good guy, Woz.”
He steps back. “Nah. I have my own issues. But I’d never hurt a woman.”
“Not with your fists anyway,” I say with a small smile.
He grins. “I don’t lie, I don’t cheat. If someone falls for me when I tell them straight up, don’t, it’s not my fault.”
My smile falters as I think about our last conversation, and Woz senses my thoughts, I think. He links his arm with mine.
“Let’s go have it out with your girl and really end this thing with a bang.”
“Figuratively speaking, of course,” I say.
He grins again. “Of course.”
***
Woz enters the ring of firelight ahead of me.
“Where’d you go off to, fuck nuts?” Jay says.
Woz doesn’t blink. “I found someone.”
I step around him and every eye goes to me, except for Baby T’s. She huddles into herself.
“Hey Tiana,” I say. “Can we talk?”
She nods and starts to step away from the crowd, but Raz blocks her path and puts an arm around her.
“I think it’s best if you guys stick around,” he says. “You hurt her, Leni, and I’m not gonna let you do it again.”
“Me? I’m the one who hurt her? Raz, move out of the way.”
“No.”
“Raz, have a beer,” Woz says, popping a can open for him. “Let them have their girl talk.”
Raz knocks the beer out of Woz’s hand, and it fizzes in the sand.
“Now, that was uncalled for,” Woz says. “You’ve wasted a whole beer.”
“Leni’s just gonna tell T a bunch of lies,” Raz says. “Better to do it here, in front of everyone.”
“You really want an audience for this, Raz?” I ask him. “Please, Tiana. Come talk to me.”
Baby T doesn’t move.
I look around at my friends. No one is willing to say a word. I catch Jay’s eye, and he’s standing stiff as a corpse, Emily clutching his arm tightly.
“Jay, can you help me out here?” I plead.
“Raz wants an audience, Leni,” he says. “Give it to him so you can get the hell outta here.”<
br />
I gasp at his words.
Glaring at Jay, Woz comes to stand next to me. “This isn’t just about Leni and Baby T. Raz, man, this is about you.”
“It’s none of your business, Woz.”
“I’m making it my business. You are making it our business.”
“Tiana,” I say again. “Do you really want to do this here?”
Baby T finally raises her eyes to meet mine. I see a strength I hadn’t expected. And I realize she wants an audience, too. She needs an audience, just like I did with my dad.
I take a deep breath. “At the dance, I heard Raz call Tiana a whore because Marcus came up and freaked her. Then he hit her.”
I hear Emily gasp and Johnny swear. Guess everyone wasn’t as clued in as Woz.
I watch Jay swivel his head and focus on Raz as if he’s never seen the guy before.
“It wasn’t like that,” Raz says.
And then a voice, so low we have to strain to hear it, says, “I love you, Raz, but I don’t like you. I’m scared. Scared for you and scared for me.”
Raz shakes her. “I love you, too, Tiana, so much that I can’t control it. Don’t you see that? I love you so much you make me crazy.”
He shakes her again, and Tiana shies away from him.
“Woz,” I whisper.
Woz walks over to Raz and puts a hand on his arm. “I think you need to go home, man.”
“I love you, Tiana,” Raz says again.
She doesn’t say anything, and when she steps away, Raz lets her go.
“I’ll take you home,” Woz says, taking his keys out of his pocket and leading Raz away. “Yo, Johnny, get my cooler and stuff and bring it by tomorrow.”
Johnny nods.
Tiana is facing away from us. “Thank you, Leni,” she whispers.
I hug her from the back. “Be strong, okay,” I say into her ear. “It’s not over. You have to stand up to him.”
She nods, leaning back into my hug.
“Love you, Baby. Call me tomorrow.”
She nods again, and I let her go and turn back the way I came.
But I stop in front of Jay.
“You fucking coward,” I say.
***
I get home by ten and check on Dad and Bea. Both are sound asleep.
I think about the bonfire, my friends, and how I ever fit in with them. I wasted so many hours playing in the drama of high school. I would never minimize what T’s going through, but the rest of it…it seems so far removed from my life now.
