by Jane Charles
“It was a Saturday,” I remind him.
“Finals were the following week.”
I’ve had many weekends lost to books because of upcoming exams.
“At first I thought I was imagining the voice…”
He isn’t looking at me, and I’m not sure if he’s changed the subject, or what he’s talking about. “Huh?”
“My mom’s. I heard it a lot, or thought I did, when I was little. It was my imagination, of course. She wasn’t coming back for me, but I could swear I heard her in the living room.”
My stomach tightens and I swallow against the bile, afraid of where this is going.
“So I go in there, and that’s when I see her. On the TV. In the movie. Porn. Not the way any kid wants to see their mother.”
“Oh, God.”
“At first I was shocked, and then I got sick. I told the guys that I’d had too much to drink and they bought it. I didn’t drink much and they teased me about being a lightweight.”
“What did you do then?”
“I went to my room and tossed my mom’s picture in the trash. I had only the one, and I’d kept it with me, constantly lying to myself that something had to have happened to her and that’s why she didn’t come back. Or that she would be back one day and I would listen to her explanation.”
“I’m sorry.” What else can I say?
“Well, she made it big, apparently. I searched her stage name, if that’s what porn stars call them, on the Internet and she had a lot movies under her belt.” He snorts and I’m pretty sure that pun was intended. “Now she’s a bigwig at one of the production companies making the same kind of movies she starred in for so long.”
“Now that you know where she is, are you going to go see her?”
“Nope. She didn’t want me and I sure as hell don’t want her anymore.”
My heart breaks for him. What kind of mother can abandon her kid and go off to star in adult movies? “Maybe she didn’t mean to end up there, but in other movies, and couldn’t catch a break.”
Alex pauses in what he’s doing and looks up. His cobalt eyes darken with pain. “It doesn’t matter what her intentions were. She left me for a dream of a better life. It wouldn’t matter if she was a porn star or walking the red carpet after starring in a Spielberg film. She left me behind without a second thought. That’s what I’ll never forgive.”
Alex
* * *
I can’t believe I just told Kelsey the ugly truth. Not even my roommates know that the star of the film they were watching was my mom.
Kelsey doesn’t know that I live with guys that also graduated from Baxter with me. I’m not sure it would make a difference to her, but she might get weird and afraid I’ll tell them about today. It was a private conversation that I wouldn’t share with anyone. Well, besides the world since it’s getting filmed and could air, but I’ll never talk about this day. It’s too private. Too personal.
The guys I went to school with and live with are my family now. Similar histories and we feel damn lucky we ended up at Baxter when we were still teenagers. They’ll just never know that they were watching my mom that night.
I hate thinking about that night and wish I could bleach the image from my brain. I thought I had, until Kelsey and I started talking about the past.
She’s nothing like my mom. I get that now. It’s okay that Kelsey wanted a shot at a better life. But she made sure her daughter had the shot first, and it sounds like she made sure her little girl had the best chance anyone can have after coming into this world.
I sit back and study what I’ve done so far. There isn’t much left to do, but I want to double check names and dates. I’ve already triple checked them, but I’m always overly cautious when it comes to these details. After picking up the birth certificate, I compare the information and stop.
“You picked today on purpose, didn’t you?”
“Yeah.” Kelsey clears her throat. “I wanted to get it when she turned five, but I didn’t have enough money.”
“Six years. I can’t believe it’s been that long.”
“A lifetime ago,” she says.
“Yet almost like yesterday.”
Kelsey sighs. “My baby is six today. I know they must be giving her a big party, with a cake and balloons and presents.”
I glance up. There’s a small smile on her face.
“When I walk by the toy stores, sometimes I wander in and go down the aisles, looking at the kinds of things a girl her age would play with. Is she into Barbies? Dolls? Trucks?”
I laugh. “Trucks?”
“Just because she’s a girl doesn’t mean she can’t be into trucks.”
“Maybe she’s learning to play the piano,” I suggest. If she has even an ounce of the talent her mother has, then the child could be a protégé under the right guidance.
Tears fill her eyes. Shit, I should have kept my mouth shut.
“It shouldn’t be much longer.”
“I’m usually not such an emotional mess.” She sniffs.
“It’s okay.”
“Really, I don’t cry that often.”
“Hey, it’s not an easy day for you. You’re entitled to your tears.” I hand her the box of tissues again.
“I don’t think I’ve cried like this since last year.”
“And you probably won’t again until this time next year.”
“Probably,” she says before blowing her nose.
On a whim, I add the time after the date. Does Kelsey know that she turned into a watering pot about the time her baby was born six years ago today?
Kelsey
* * *
There’s a clock on the wall across the room. I’d been watching it since I got on the table. It’s silly, I know, and as much as I tried to hold back the tears, they began when the time struck 2:42 pm, the exact time Brandy was born.
I can still feel the tiny hand clutching my finger, and the soft, downy black head of hair, the weight of her head on my left breast, and hear the infant’s cries until they laid her on my chest. And feel the scalding tears roll down my cheeks when they took her away.
I know I did the right thing by giving Brandy up. It’s the only decision I’ve ever made that I had complete confidence in. It was also the most painful. A pain that will probably stay with me for the rest of my life.
My heart broke when Brandon was killed, but it shattered when they wheeled Brandy out of the delivery room and I knew that I’d never see her again. I think I cried for days after Brandy’s birth. I know that probably isn’t her name now, but she will always be Brandy to me. The one beautiful thing to come from my shitty youth.
She was such a beautiful baby. And she’s probably a beautiful little girl.
And today my heart breaks for Alex. How could his mother just abandon him in a restaurant? Didn’t she watch the news? Wasn’t she aware of how many creeps there are in the world? Something seriously horrible could have happened to him before he even made it to the fire station. And all so she could become a star.
Just like I’ll never get over the pain of giving up Brandy, I’m just as sure that Alex will never get over the pain of being abandoned by his mother.
“What are you going to do after graduation?” he asks, probably to get my mind off of my baby so I’ll stop crying.
“Well, I have a job interview tomorrow, to teach voice and piano.”
“Where at?”
“Baxter Academy of Art.”
He stops and straightens, looking at me. The corner of his mouth quirks in a smile. “Really? I hear it’s a great school.”
“Yeah. Me too.”
Baxter wasn’t just hiring a music teacher for next year. They had about a dozen slots to fill. “You know, they’re looking for new art teachers. There are too many students for just two teachers now.”
“Really?” He continues working as if he isn’t all that interested. “I just might look into that, if I don’t make the cut here.”
“Well, you could always come with me tomorrow and fill out an application while I interview.” I can’t believe I just asked him to come with me. A person shouldn’t take someone along when they go on a job interview. But it’s Baxter, and neither of us are strangers to the school. Plus, maybe having Alex with me will help with my nerves.
“Maybe I will,” he finally says. “Can’t hurt to have something else to go after if this doesn’t work out.” He sits back and is looking me over. Or at least the area where he just did the tat, not that I can see it. “I think it’s done.”
“Can I see it?”
“Yep.” He stands and holds out his hand to help me sit up. I clutch the towel to my breasts, even though I’ve pretty much been on display since he moved to the left side.
A camera man leans in further. “Can you put your arms up so we can get a good shot?”
As the Reeds do need to judge the work, I do as I’m asked.
Another guy takes still shots. “That’s good work, Dosek,” he says.
“When do I get to see it?”
“Right now,” Alex says and helps me from the table. Across the room is a mirror and I start for it. My legs are shaking and I’m not sure if it’s because of nerves or because I was lying on the table so long. My muscles hurt, but I’m pretty sure it’s from being tense the entire time.
Alex follows me over but before I can get close enough, he covers my eyes with this hands. “Move with me.”
I bite my lip and do so, until he stops.
“Ready?”
“…Yes.”
My heartbeat increases as his hands slowly move from my eyes. He’s watching my face in the mirror, not looking at the tattoo. Of course, he’s already seen it.
My eyes drift lower, to the small feet just below my right boob, to the gentle curve of music notes from Brahms’s Lullaby, to Brandy’s delicate hand tattooed over my heart.
My eyes fill with tears and I try to blink them away, but they spill down my cheeks instead. There’s more to see, but I can’t see anything because I’m crying so hard.
Alex rushes back and grabs the box of tissues and brings them over.
“Thanks.” I sniff and wipe my eyes. All of the headnotes on the music are hearts, just like I drew them, and colored blue, green, and pink. Within the music notes is Brandy’s name, her date of birth, and then Brandon’s name circling the final heart, and I start sobbing all over again.
I want to tell Alex how perfect this is, but I can’t even talk. My throat is tight. I’m trying to hold back the sobs, and tears are spilling down my cheeks and onto my breasts. I keep wiping my eyes because I can’t see the tattoo through the tears.
They are both here, with me always.
I clear my throat and try to gain control of myself. I need to stop crying. I want to see the tat.
He hands me more tissues and I wipe my face. That’s when I realize that the curve of the music isn’t random, but an outline of how Brandy had been laid across my chest for those few precious moments I was allowed to hold her.
Alex
* * *
Does she hate it? Does she love it?
Kelsey is saying nothing, just crying. Uncontrollable crying. I hope it’s because she likes it, but she’s a girl, and you never know.
If she hates it, I’m screwed. I know I took a chance, but she needed more than feet. Yeah, they were important, but not as important as that hand. That’s what she touched and talked about. Does she even remember that she gestured as to how the baby had been laid on her?
I pray I didn’t screw this up. It’s a lot more than she asked for, and in my gut, I know it’s what she needs.
Without warning Kelsey turns and throws her arms around me, hugging me close.
“Thank you so much.” She barely gets the words out before she is sobbing again.
Her tears are soaking into my shirt and getting on my chest, but I don’t care. I wrap my arms around her and let her sob against me.
She likes it, and that’s all that matters. I rub my hands down her soft, naked back, not sure if I’m trying to calm or comfort. All I know is that she’s half-naked pressed against me and crying her heart out and I’m perfectly content to hold her until she has her emotions under control.
Tears fill my eyes but I blink them away. I’m not the mushy type, yet she’s moved me several times since she stepped into the room. I bury my face in her hair so the camera doesn’t see that I’m turning into a mess too. I take deep breaths trying to regain control, and the lavender scent of her shampoo fills my head, calming me.
I’ve done a lot of tats since I started, but this is the one I’m most proud of. Not that it was huge, colorful, or amazing—because in comparison to some of my other work, it’s rather simple. But it’s what was right for Kelsey, and I don’t think I’ll ever be as proud of anything else I may do as I am at this very moment.
She pulls back and looks up at me with a watery smile. “It’s perfect. So perfect. Thank you so much.”
More tears spill down her cheeks and I hand her another tissue. “Thank you,” I say. “For allowing me the honor of doing your tattoo, for sharing yourself with me, and for listening to me.”
She smiles up and our eyes meet. The past and old resentment fade away, and something shifts inside. I’m free. The hatred I felt for my mother is gone, because she no longer matters. The resentment I once felt for Kelsey has vanished, because she’s a true mom. Her kid came first, and still does, and I want to get to know the girl I should have gotten to know six years ago.
“Here, let’s get this bandaged. I’ll give you instructions on how to care for it over the next few weeks.”
Kelsey follows me back to the table and I cover the tat so it can heal.
“So, when will you know if you make the show?” she asks.
“Don’t know.” I shrug. “The Reeds need to watch the footage and look at the photos before they make a decision.”
She nods as she pulls her shirt over her head. “What are you doing after this?”
“Nothing. Just wait and see if they call.”
Kelsey hops off the table. “Why don’t we get a cup of coffee?”
She’s biting her bottom lip again. Something she does when she’s nervous.
“Sure. I just need to clean up the station.”
“We got that, Mr. Dosek,” one of the guys at the back says. “Go enjoy yourself.”
“I never leave my stations a mess.” I start to get the sanitizer.
“We got this,” another one says and nods toward Kelsey. “Go spend some time with her. It was a rough day.”
“You sure?” I don’t want to be screwed and lose my shot because I didn’t clean up.
“Don’t worry.” The guy is practically pushing me to the door.
“Okay. Thanks.”
I follow Kelsey out of the building, and we stop on the sidewalk outside. She looks up toward the sky, a huge smile on her face. “I’ve kept this envelope with me because I was afraid I’d forget. It’s the only pieces of them I have left.” She turns to me, still smiling. “But now I’ll have them with me always, right here.” She places a hand over her heart. “Thank you.”
More
Dear Readers,
Thank you for reading RATTLED. For more of Alex and Kelsey’s story, watch for STILL RATTLED, available in August, 2016.
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Excerpt - STILL RATTLED
Still Rattled: Rattled #2 - Baxter Boys Series ~ Rattled
Kelsey
* * *
Alex “Douche” Dosek isn’t really a douche, or at least not anymore, and I should probably stop thinking about him that way. I get why he resented me. He didn’t have the whole story, and after his mother shit on him the way she did, of course he’d think I was just as heartless because I had abandoned my baby.
But, now he gets it. If he didn’t, Alex wouldn’t have given me the most perfect tattoo.
It’s exactly what I needed, from the little foot that I thought I wanted, to the little handprint over my heart that I hadn’t even considered. The manila envelope still holds those precious items: her birth certificate, sheet music from Brahms’ Lullaby and the pink rattle I snatched from the bassinet. I’ve always had these with me, but now that everything, with the exception of the rattle and the only picture I have of Brandon, is permanently on my midriff, just below my boobs, I’m not as worried about losing the documents. I’ll still keep them close though, in the pink box on the top shelf of my closet with the letters I’ve written to Brandy. But nobody can take the art from my body. Brandy and Brandon will be with me always.
Shit! My eyes are tearing up again and everything in front of me is starting to blur. After sobbing inside of Reed’s, you’d think I’d be done by now.
“Coffee?” Alex pulls his gloves on as he steps outside in to the cold.
“Coffee!” I blink and quickly wipe away a few stray tears. I’m drained and really just want a nap, but it’s kind of nice spending time with someone I don’t have to guard myself around. Not so much protecting my feelings and heart and that type of stuff, but not having to watch what I say, or slip about Baxter, or mention I was once pregnant and lived on the streets. Those things are what people judge you by. Alex already knows the ugly. Far more ugly about my past than anyone else, with the exception of people at Baxter, like Mrs. Robak and a handful of therapists.
