by Hazel Kelly
“Well you don’t have to do that anyway,” he said. “Remember?”
“Oh, right.”
“And you don’t need to ring the doorbell either.”
“Sorry,” I said. “I just forgot.”
“It’s fine. I’m sorry I don’t know what to say.”
“Say I imagined it and that none of this just happened.”
“Which part?” he asked.
“The part about my mom showing up and acting like the last time I saw her she didn’t throw a bottle at me and call me a stupid slut.”
He pursed his lips. “Believe me, I really wish I could.”
“Does she think she can just show up and pretend she’s been my mom all this time?”
“Maybe she wants to make amends.”
“Well, she should’ve tried that before she tried to hug me.”
He raised his eyebrows. “She tried to hug you?”
I rubbed my sore eyes. “I felt cold all over when I realized that’s what she was going to do. Numb.”
“And how do you feel now?”
“Like puking.”
He tilted an ear towards me. “Are you going to puke? Do you need me to get you something in case?”
I shook my head. “No. I’m not. I just wish I could, ya know? It feels like I have all this black hate soaked goop in my guts and it’s poisoning me from the inside out.”
“Shit,” he said. “What can I do to help?”
I sighed. “I wish I knew.”
Chapter 30: Connor
I’d never seen her so distraught.
And I didn’t know how to help her.
I couldn’t even empathize. I had model parents, the kind of parents that read me bedtime stories and defended me at parent teacher conferences.
Neither of my parents had ever thrown anything at me in my life outside a game of catch. I’d never been locked in my room. I’d never gone to school without a packed lunch. I’d never had to clean up after one of them pissed themselves.
It was hard enough for me to understand how Laney survived that.
So to try and guess how she was feeling now- when she’d carried on like her mom was dead for the last decade- was beyond me.
All I could do was hold her, be strong for her, and keep her safe.
“I can’t forgive her,” she said, shaking her head against my chest. “If that’s what she came here for, I can’t give it to her. How could I?”
“You don’t have to forgive her.”
“What if it’s like a step, though? What if she can’t move on in her treatment or whatever without my blessing?”
“Tough,” I said. “Forgiveness isn’t like a parking ticket. You don’t earn it just for showing up at the wrong place.”
“I almost didn’t recognize her,” she said, lifting one leg over me so it cut across my thighs.
I reached behind my head and propped a couch pillow up behind me.
“She mustn’t still be with that guy,” she said. “No one could get sober with him around.”
“Mmm.”
“Do you think she’s still over there?”
I looked at the clock on the mantle over the stone fireplace. “I suppose she could be. She and Helly probably have lots to talk about.”
“I hope they’re not talking about me,” Laney said. “That would really piss me off.”
“What if she just leaves town tonight and that’s it?”
She craned her neck up and looked at me. “What?”
“What if she’s just passing through?”
“Then good luck to her and God bless and good riddance.”
“Do you mean that?” I asked.
“Why shouldn’t I?”
I shrugged. “You aren’t even a little curious about what she might have to say?”
“No,” she said, nestling her head back down on my chest. “Do you know what the nicest thing she ever said to me was?”
“What?”
“I was cleaning her up after she puked in her bed, and she looked me in the face and said, ‘Maybe having you wasn’t a mistake after all.’”
I wrapped my hands around her back and pulled her tight. “I’m so sorry, babe.”
“Don’t be,” she said. “Just don’t expect me to forgive her for the bullshit parent she was.”
“Okay.”
“I was an independent kid,” she said. “I’m not saying I wish I were spoiled rotten or anything, but the occasional word of encouragement probably wouldn’t have killed me.”
“No.”
“Do you know what I’m really afraid of?” she asked, lifting her head again.
“What?”
“That she thinks I owe her an apology.”
I furrowed my brow. “What the hell for?”
“For abandoning her with that prick and never getting in touch to tell her I was okay.”
“You were just a kid,” I said. “None of that was your responsibility. Besides, she drove you away. You never wanted to abandon her. You even tried to get her to leave with you.”
“I know,” she said. “But I could’ve waited until her wrist healed or something-”
“Her wrist?”
“It was broken,” she said. “From a scuffle with Ricky.”
“Have I told you lately how amazing I think you are?”
She smiled. “Not in the last few hours.”
“Well, for what it’s worth, please don’t start second guessing the choices you made back then.”
“Easier said than done,” she said, hugging my chest again.
“Seriously. You did the right thing. You did what you had to do to survive.”
“Can’t argue with that.”
“Besides,” I said. “If you hadn’t made those choices, I never would’ve met you.”
She poked her head up. “That would be an even bigger tragedy than my childhood.”
“Absolutely.”
“Thanks, Connor.”
“You’re welcome.”
“You really think it’s okay if I don’t want to forgive her?”
“I do,” I said. “But can I be honest?”
“Please.”
“I think you should make an informed decision.”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“I mean if she’s around tomorrow, maybe you should consider hearing her out.”
“But I don’t want to relive everything.”
“I’m sure she doesn’t either,” I said. “But the thing about forgiveness is that sometimes it’s actually deserved.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And other times, it’s worth forgiving for selfish reasons.”
“Selfish reasons?”
“Yeah,” I said. “So you can move on and start to heal or, at the very least, let go of some of that toxic black goop.”
She made a pouty face. “I don’t know if I have it in me to take such a mature approach.”
“It’s not about being mature,” I said. “It’s about doing what’s best for you.”
She furrowed her brow.
“Think about it,” I said. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
“She gets sentimental and decides to cuss me out and slap me around to make up for the years she didn’t get to.”
I shook my head. “No.”
“What could be worse than that?”
“Living with regret,” I said. “Or living with a bunch of ‘what ifs.’”
“You know what I wish?” she asked. “I wish I never asked for your opinion.”
“Did I say something wrong?”
She sighed. “No. You said everything right. I just didn’t want to hear any of it.”
“Sorry.”
“Now I can’t pretend being mature about it never occurred to me.”
“We can if you want,” I said.
“No. It’s too late. I know it’s the adult thing to do.”
I pursed my lips.
“She’s just the last person I f
eel like an adult around, ya know?”
“Everyone regresses when they’re with family. It’s just one of those things.”
“I’m going to have to sleep on this,” she said.
“Sure.”
“But no matter what, I owe my grandma an apology.”
I nodded. “At the very least.”
“Is Neo still wedged in the TV console?” she asked, squinting across the room.
“He must like it in there because it’s warm.”
“Where’s Sarge?”
“Probably in bed,” I said.
“I think that first intro went okay, don’t you?”
“I do,” I said, scratching her lower back. “I was worried Sarge might play too rough, but I think he can sense that Neo’s vulnerable.”
She smiled. “Maybe Sarge isn’t as dumb as he looks.”
“Hey!” I said, tickling her waist.
A moment later, my phone buzzed in my pocket.
Laney sat up so I could pull it out from under me. “Who’s texting you at this hour?”
I dragged my thumb across the screen and opened the message. “It’s from Helly.”
She raised her eyebrows.
“She’s just messaging to ask if you’re okay,” I said, scrolling as I read.
“Uh-huh.”
“And to let us know your mom’s in room twenty one at the Glastonbury Motel.”
Flashback: Andi
I heard someone clear their throat and raised my eyes across the table.
Connor was setting out his books, pretending like he didn’t know I was right there.
I leaned forward and whispered, “What are you doing here?”
“Trying to study,” he said, a sly smile stretching across his face.
“You never come to the library,” I said, trying to keep my voice down.
“But you always do,” he said. “So I thought I’d come see what the fuss was about.”
“Shhhhh!” the librarian glared at us through her cat eye frames.
I pursed my lips.
Connor scribbled something in his notebook and turned it around. “You’re hot when you concentrate.”
“I am not,” I scribbled back.
He grabbed the notebook back and wrote quickly.
When he turned it around again, my eyes scanned the page.
“Meet me in the biography section in two minutes, and I’ll prove it.”
I lifted my eyes.
He flashed his eyebrows and then got up, pushed his chair in, and disappeared, leaving all his stuff on the table.
I glanced at the clock, the librarian, and the other students hunched over their books with focused looks on their faces.
But when I looked down at my own notebook, it might as well have been an ink spill for how interesting it seemed all of a sudden.
I swallowed and stood up, pushing my chair in quietly. Then I walked up and down a few rows of shelves as if I were looking for something.
Finally, I turned towards the biography section in the back corner.
Connor was standing between the end of a standalone shelf unit and the wall.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
He pressed my back against the end of the thick shelf and kissed me.
I kissed him back, my heart beating through my chest at the challenge of kissing him without making any noise.
A second later, he slid a hand up my skirt and started rubbing my clit through my underwear.
I stopped breathing.
“You’re wet,” he whispered, his hot breath on my lips as he pulled my underwear to the side.
“That’s what happens when someone starts touching me when they’re not suppos-"
He laid a palm over my mouth and slid his fingers inside me.
I pressed my head back against the metal shelf, a small moan vibrating up my throat.
“Shhh,” he said, his eyes on mine as he fucked me slow.
It felt wrong to feel so turned on at the library, and even though I was freaking out that we might get caught, I found myself arching my back so he could hit me deeper.
My eyes grew wide when I got close.
His focused expression stayed trained on me.
At his house, I had to be quiet when I came so his parents wouldn’t hear me, but this was different. The silence in there was so much more intense.
He dared me to come with his eyes, his hand still clamped over my mouth.
I was burning up, and I furrowed my brow as my body clenched around his fingers.
“Now,” he said, pressing his forehead to mine and fucking me faster. “Come for me.”
I shook and jerked forwards, falling against him.
He stayed still and held me up while I tried to catch my breath and waited for the feeling in my legs to return.
When I felt ready to stand on my own again, I wiggled my underwear back into place and smoothed my skirt down. “You’re a terrible person,” I whispered, scolding him with my eyes.
“Then why are you smiling so hard?” he asked.
I glanced down at his boner and shook my head. “Look what you’ve done.”
He leaned forward and whispered in my ear. “It was worth it, babe,” he said. “You can get me back later.”
And I did.
And I loved every second of it.
Chapter 31: Laney
I felt like I was going to choke on my own tongue.
The only reason I stopped myself was because I realized that if I did, my mom might be the one to call the ambulance and she’d end up looking like some kind of local hero.
So I decided it wasn’t a good day to forget how to breathe.
But it took me a long time to decide that as I stared at the door to room twenty one.
After the first fifteen minutes, she came out of her room with the ice bucket and went to the machine a few doors down.
I watched her return slowly, her thin hair secured in a low ponytail.
I promised myself that if she was drinking cocktails in there I would walk right back out and not listen to a word she had to say.
Finally, I got out of the car and made my way across the sunny parking lot.
I suppose it would’ve been more normal to meet her for coffee or something, but I wasn’t ready to pretend we were ladies who lunched.
I knocked on the door before I could lose my nerve.
“Laney,” she said, as if she were surprised I’d come.
“Hi.”
“Come in,” she said, stepping back and opening the door.
The room was overwhelmingly beige and worn, like it hadn’t been updated in decades.
“Have a seat,” she said, gesturing to a desk chair near the TV.
I looked around for booze but didn’t see any, nor did I smell it on her. I wondered if she was really sober or if the stench of lemon cleaner was just throwing me off the scent.
She grabbed the ice bucket from the nightstand, popped a flat cube in her mouth, and sat on the edge of the bed.
“What are you addicted to ice chips now?”
She glanced at the tub and set it down beside her. “Sort of.”
I sighed. “I suppose that’s an improvement.”
“You look good,” she said.
I hated having her eyes on me, hated her thinking she had anything to do with how good I looked or didn’t. “Are you really sober?”
She nodded. “Twenty three months.”
“Good for you.”
“Thanks.” She tucked a wisp of white blonde hair behind her ear, knocking a cigarette onto the bed. “Haven’t quite kicked those yet, though.”
“Why are you here?”
“I wanted to see you,” she said. “And your grandmother.”
“I take it Grandma gave you a warmer reception than I did?”
“She tried a bit harder to make me feel welcome,” she said. “But she’s my mom, isn’t she?”
“A mother’s love, eh?” I crossed my arms. “I�
�ve heard it’s supposed to be incredible.”
She pursed her lips.
“Why did you want to see me?”
“Well, when your grandma told me how good you were doing-”
I tilted an ear towards her. “Excuse me?”
“We’ve kept in touch a bit over the years.”
I craned my neck back. “No you haven’t.”
She looked at me in a way that told me there was no use arguing. “Do you really think she never told me you came here? That I didn’t know you were safe?”
“You knew I was in Glastonbury from the beginning?”
“Of course I did,” she said.
I felt my guts fall through the chair. “You never even sent me a birthday card.”
“It didn’t seem like a sincere thing to do considering the way things went when I last saw you.”
I felt sick.
“Besides,” she said. “I didn’t think you wanted to hear from me.”
“At least you got something right.”
“I also promised myself- and your grandma- that I’d be sober the next time you saw me.”
I furrowed my brow. “And it took you over ten years to deliver on that promise?”
“It’s better than nothing, isn’t it?”
I glanced at the floor. “I don’t know.”
She clasped her hands in her lap.
“So what happened?” I asked. “What made you decide to get your shit together?”
“Ricky got arrested-”
“For what?” I asked.
“Dealing.”
“I don’t even want to know.”
“Anyway, after he went to prison-” Her eyes started to water. “I finally remembered what I looked like without bruises.”
I clenched my jaw.
“And I checked myself into rehab.”
I swallowed.
“I faltered a few times,” she said. “That’s why it took me so long to get clean.”
“I begged you to come with me.”
“I was sick, Laney. And I made a bad choice- one of many.”
I scoffed. “No shit.”
“But you weren’t one of them.” She leaned forward. “I know I let you think you were, but that’s just because I was so convinced I was going to screw you up-”
“You did screw me up,” I said. “And you made me feel like a mistake, like you didn’t want me, and like there was nothing I could ever do to be worthy of your love.”
