Paper Dolls [Book Two]

by Emma Chamberlain

“Come on,” I said. “I better change.”

  I moved enough and pulled her along after me once I stood.

  Leaving the music room was sad. But we shared together there and that memory would always be with me now. Every time I sat in that room and saw that guitar hanging up on the wall I would remember Avery’s fingers and how they looked while they touched it. I’d slide my soft fingertips along the steel strings and shut my eyes in the touch, searching hard for those familiar reverberations, a memory through a sound, any last trace or echo of where she’d just been.

  I needed her close, always...

  Like it or not, it was time now to leave the house and try and visit her Mom.

  I wasn’t quite sure what to think but I wanted to look nice.

  “I’ll need a minute,” I said, walking back into the closet to try and think of the perfect thing.

  “Okay,” she said absently, walking around the room.

  I had dresses and pantsuits and jeans and normal things. I wasn’t sure if Avery prefered me understated or dolled-up. Right now she looked a bit fancy herself, business casual.

  Given that talk we’d had about fantasies it was almost tempting to wear riding gear everyday.

  A smile twitched at my lips. That’d be a cruel thing to do while we were alone with her mom...

  I found underwear and a tan bra with delicate lace. A dress would be right but it needed to be an inbetween, fancy but not too elaborate.

  My eyes caught sight of my long and thick tan skirt, the high-waisted one with the tan belt, and I knew that it would be enough, a statement piece. With a silky white button-up, sleeves rolled to the elbows, I’d be perfectly fine to receive. I thought of Kipling and the jungle, The Secret Garden and the travels in India, Bathsheba Everdene on her farm in Far From the Madding Crowd. I thought of Bathsheba and Gabriel:

  “I shall do one thing in this life-- one thing certain -- that is love you, and long for you, and keep wanting you until I die.” ~Thomas Hardy

  I heard the quote in my mind but kept it from Avery.

  Clothes always held connotations with me. Certain modes of dress brought the feelings of inhabiting certain characters, certain lifestyles, and ways of thinking that have long-since been gone. This outfit encouraged my restlessness inside, encouraged my pining and my calculated fortitude. In this outfit I thought of all those strong independent pioneering women in all those books I did cherish in solitude on my many days without an Avery to hold. It was very: Cold Mountain. Very: Yes, I do run this homestead all on my own. Very: I come to long for your daughter Mrs. L. I could only hope Mrs. L was as dazedly romantic as I, to catch on.

  For shoes I’d go with low boots, a darker brown with tan elements, thick heels for mobility, tan embellishments, to keep it in theme.

  I only hoped Avery didn’t think I was completely insane. One day I dressed one way and the other I was someone else.

  I had a matching bag, a matching watch, a matching pair of sunglasses, and of course some matching rings. I just didn’t want to look like someone unworthy. I wanted to be perfect for her, as a lover and a protector. I wanted her mom to know just by seeing me, who I was, what I wanted, what I meant.

  The truth weighed heavy that I’d never ever get this opportunity again.

  We’d have to stop for flowers and get her a special snack. I would never show up to a place of care without doing both of those things.

  A lot of people don’t know what it’s like to feel abandoned in a hospital or a place like that. Not only are you alone, your whole schedule and way of life is out of your hands. It’s much like prison. Something like chocolate can taste like heaven after days without.

  I put on a gold necklace I’d been gifted, a key from a boy, on a summer yacht excursion with family friends so many moons ago. It always made me feel romantic even if I was never really thinking about him, or anything really, besides the ocean spray and the feel of the sun burning hot on my skin.

  I had small understated earrings to match and I didn’t quite know what to do with my hair so for now I used a large cloth headband to push it back and keep it smooth, controlled, and out of my face. As a finishing touch I applied some false lashes, sprayed some perfume, and stole a vial of lip stain to quickly rub some false blush on my cheeks and color my lips.

  When I finally left the closet I felt alright enough but Avery would really need to be the judge. I’d want to look how she wanted me to look. I’d be anything for her, truly. From sex kitten to schoolmarm, if she wanted it, I wanted to deliver.

  I felt so nervous my hands were warm and sweating. My hands were rarely like that. I always ran cold.

  I walked out and waited for word.

  Chapter Eleven

  Avery

  She came out of the closet and I lifted my head from the bed, blinking. She looked different. It wasn’t just a change of clothes it was a new image of her. The skirt paired with the boots and top made her look like a chic frontierswoman. Everything was perfect. She could have stepped out of the Sundance catalog.

  “You look… Beautiful and now I want to start a ranch just so I can see you ride a horse. Probably not in that unless you were riding side saddle. Oh my God!” My eyes bulged. “That would be hot too.” I shook my head and smiled. “Mmmmm.”

  “Okay. But is it perfect for your Mom?” She only had a brief moment of excitement before the worry grabbed her again.

  “Yes, it’s great. I promise.” She was still frowning at me, worried about something that didn’t really matter.

  She didn’t find me as amusing as I did, which was fair. I did often bring the really bad jokes and right now I was nervous to see my mom. She didn’t know I was coming. It was going to be a surprise, a good one, I hoped.

  “Hey, do you have a jacket I could borrow?”

  The fifty-five degree weather would be enough to make me shiver in the thin top.

  “Of course. Take anything you want.”

  “Right.” I knew she would say that but I’d rather she just picked something for me. Nerves were getting to me. I couldn’t focus very well and I’d started tapping my fingers on things. I only noticed because there was nothing else to focus on while she was changing.

  I rolled off her bed and went to the closet, picking the first jacket I saw, throwing it over my arm, and joining her outside.

  “Not that one,” she laughed, taking the jacket from me.

  “What?” I pursed my lips and gave her an appraising look.

  “Avery, this is not appropriate for visiting your mom in rehab.”

  She held the jacket up so I could see it. It was silver with glittery sequins all over it. It looked kind of like a disco ball in clothing form.

  “It’s a silver glitter jacket. Maybe it’ll cheer her up,” I replied.

  My straight face managed to hold for another few seconds before I busted out laughing. The look on Olivia’s face was a mixture of doubt and horror at my poor fashion choices.

  “Just kidding. I seriously just grabbed the first thing I saw.”

  I needed that laughter. It was a release for the butterflies that had been swarming in my stomach. “Oh, I needed that.”

  She found a plainer silk jacket and gave it to me. “Come on you weirdo,” she said, taking my hand and pulling. “We need to get going if we’re gonna make it in time.”

  I was definitely not going to be able to drive this time so I let her take the lead. She took me out the front door and even opened the car door for me, taking care of me as always. I slid in and jumped when the door closed. It shouldn’t scare me. I took a breath and sank into the soft leather of the passenger seat.

  She went around and got in the other side. I watched her from where I was. She was graceful in a way that I wasn’t. Athletic grace was what I had but she was the personification of refined grace. She really was a princess forced into a life she didn’t want. Her parents were callous, unresponsive to her wants or needs. Anger flared. She deserved better. We both did.

 
; We were trapped by circumstance and lack of choice in the people we had come from. It was a binding force but not the only one we shared. I would love if she had parents that cared for her in the right way. I’d want to be absorbed into that family.

  It felt like we were alone. There was no one in our corner. So, we would have to make our own luck and defend our own happiness. No one else was going to do it for us.

  Dad texted me the info for the facility.

  Mountain Glory Treatment Center

  What a name. He sent the address below with some instructions copied and pasted from the website about visitation. I read through them and chuckled.

  “So, apparently we can’t bring our weapons or contraband.” I looked over at her and grinned. “Guess we better leave our shivs in the car.”

  Olivia stayed quiet but she pat my knee to try and calm me.

  After a few minutes I got the address programed into the on board navigation system and a pleasant computer voice was informing us that we were supposed to turn right in two miles.

  Her hand stayed on my knee and I felt her grip tighten as my leg bounced. My awareness snapped into focus and I stopped moving but that only increased the nervous tension in me so I started again as soon as my mind drifted.

  “It’s gonna be okay,” she told me.

  I shook my head but I knew she was right. It had to be. “I know but it’s just anticipation. What’s she going to feel like and look like. I haven’t even heard if she’s doing okay for real. Just whatever Dad told me.”

  “What was she like?” Olivia asked.

  “Before?” I blinked, thinking back, remembering better times. “She was a good mom. I guess the chance was always there that she would start drinking too much. She liked to go out and have drinks with friends on the weekends but it wasn’t like it is… Or was now. It only got bad after Adam died and she started drinking at home more and more. Then it was every day.”

  I realized that wasn’t exactly what she asked me. It was just hard to remember when she was happy and normal.

  “Was she loving though? Did she notice you?” She swallowed hard like she was scared to ask. Often in the car she didn’t look over at me when she spoke. “Did you do things together? Mother-daughter things?”

  “Yeah.” Now, both my legs were bouncing. “She noticed a lot more. Adam was always the star, I guess. Mom would come to all my plays and recitals and then she would take me to the mall with her shopping and we went to Adam’s games together. She used to make me go to junk stores with her. I hated it at first but she made it into a game where she would ask me to find little treasures for her. She liked to collect things.”

  “That’s cute,” Olivia said.

  “Yeah.” I laid my head back and closed my eyes.

  “Hey… I’m sorry I asked,” Olivia said, turning to see me. “I’m sort of bad with my timing. I dunno if you noticed,” she smiled apologetically.

  She was sweet, always caring how her words affected me. “Don’t apologize.” I opened my eyes and looked at her. She looked sad too. Causing me pain caused her pain. “Seriously, it’s a happy-sad. I like remembering the good parts. It helps me to balance out how I’ve felt over the last few years. I remember how she used to be and hope that we’ll get something like that back.”

  Her hand was rubbing my leg now and I took it, pressing my lips to the top and keeping it between my hands. “You made me hope.”

  She smiled softly, briefly looking down with a sort of glow. But then her eyes returned to the road and she cleared her throat to gather herself together. “You deserve happiness,” she said sternly, as if it burned in her to see me without. She had no control over that. Yet she did.

  “And you give it to me.” I shifted in the seat so I could watch her. “Someday I’ll get you to see how much it is. I don’t think it can be measured though.” I squeezed her hand and smiled. She wouldn’t ever think it was enough in some ways. She would probably always strive to make me even happier than I was but maybe we would settle-in a little down the road.

  “You deserve more,” she said, still looking out at the road, still stoic. Sometimes her stillness unsettled me.

  The mechanical voice informed Olivia to turn up ahead. Apparently, twenty minutes had passed and I didn’t even realize it because the wooded drive that she turned down belonged to the treatment facility.

  Shadows passed through the car as the sun filtered down through evergreens. It appeared that my mom was living in a forest. It made sense. Peaceful was probably better for recovery.

  At the end, the forest opened up and there was a circle drive. A huge rambling building filled the area. It couldn’t even be called a clearing. It was more like a huge field that stretched beyond the main building into rolling hills, stopped in the distance by thick trees.

  There were two more buildings detached from the first. They sat off to the right. I couldn’t read the signs in front of them yet but the big sign in front of us told me that we were at the right place. There were cars lined up in the parking lot off the drive. Visitors day was popular.

  Olivia parked as close as she could but we still ended up with a bit of a walk to the main building. I didn’t care. It actually helped me burn off some energy. I tried not to walk fast and gauged my pace off of hers.

  “You sure you want me to go in with you?” She asked nervously.

  “Are you kidding me?” I patted her shoulder. “You’re stuck with me for life. For better and for worse and all that. So, yes, I want you to come with me unless you don’t feel like you can. I’d understand.”

  I didn’t want to make her feel like she had to come but I knew she would even if she was uncomfortable. I’d given up trying to be utterly polite when it came to things like this.

  “I just know these issues are sensitive,” she said. “I’d understand if you wanted to be alone with her now that we’re here.”

  “No, what I really want is for her to meet you. If she needs to talk to me alone then I’m sure we can figure out something but I want you to come with. I feel better with you here.”

  Strength is a weird thing. To know what it meant was to have a personal definition. Giving into feelings and facing them or turning away and remaining stoic through the storm of feelings. I was confused as to which one was strength on any given day but I knew that Olivia made it easier to not worry about it. When she was with me I could face anything.

  “Okay,” she said, preparing herself.

  “If you want to get out of there at any time though. Let me know.”

  I wouldn’t press her to stay in a situation that she didn’t want. In some ways I was more worried about her than I was myself.

  We walked in through the front lobby and there was a woman at the front desk and a sign to the side that told visitors to sign in. I took the pen and wrote my name and did the same for Olivia. The woman watched us smiling. It was a huge smile. Almost unnatural but I couldn’t tell if she was really that happy or if it was a front for visitors and patients.

  “Oh! Lovely! You can go on into the visitation lounge and I’ll let them know you’re here to see your mother.”

  I just nodded, holding my head back from her intense enthusiasm. “Oh, okay.”

  “I’m Joyce by the way. If you need anything at all just ask. I’m always here at the desk. Unless I’m not. Sometimes I’m back in the office so just holler if you don’t see me up here.”

  “Right.” I couldn’t think of anything else to say so I just scooted along, trying to get away from her unwavering glance. I leaned over to Olivia. “I don’t think she blinked that entire time,” I whispered. “She’s probably an AI.”

  “Stop,” Olivia smiled, taking my arm in hers and running her other hand down the outside of it lovingly.

  “I’m just saying. She’s probably not real. You know not human. No one is that happy.”

  “I was actually thinking that about myself earlier Avery,” Olivia said sardonically. “Not the happy thing, obviously, t
he robot thing.”

  “You’re not a robot. You have too many feelings for that. And you don’t move in that weird stiff way. You’re actually really graceful. I like watching you move around.”

  She might feel like a robot with her parents and maybe even in general sometimes but I knew it was just a feeling. She looked and felt like a real breathing, blood pumping, human being. She was so real it hurt sometimes.

  “Yeah well, feelings are internal and you’ve seen me at my most animated. Please, be nice,” she urged.

  “Be nice? Me? I’m always nice,” I scoffed and walked into the visitor's room. There were couches everywhere and comfortable looking chairs. No weird tables or hard plastic chairs like I was expecting. It felt more like a living room than a visitor room. The carpet was a deep red and the walls were painted in a dark beige. The walls were covered in framed landscapes and different pieces of art. There were a few sconces with unlit candles. On the far side there was another seating area by the window that was bathed in light.

  Closer to us a real wood burning fireplace warmed the room and created atmosphere. I felt more at ease. Whoever designed this place was smart. It was easy to relax here. You could almost forget what the purpose of the place was.

  I chose the seating area by the fireplace. My hands were cold and I liked the way the light from the fire made the space feel.

  Other people were scattered through the big room. I was kind of surprised that this area wasn’t occupied but I was glad. I sat on one of the chesterfield loveseats and took in a deep breath, looking around at the other people visiting with family. A few were sad looking but there were smiles among the downturned lips and tears.

  Olivia sat down beside me, turning in a little to angle toward me. She was taking care of me again or waiting to see if I needed her. I patted her thigh and settled into the loveseat. “It’s cool. I’m okay.”

  The fire crackled and I jumped a little, laughing. “Maybe,” I joked.

  I was just about to say something else when I saw a woman come in. My mom was right behind her. She was walking slowly. I scanned her up and down, getting up. She looked better. Not back to one hundred percent. It was different though. She was still really pale and her blonde hair was a little dull but it looked like she was taking a little more care of herself.