by Erin Zak
“I’m nervous.”
“I know you are. But I promise you’ll be fine.” Bernadette took a step toward the security lines and pulled gently on Stevie’s hand. “Now or never.”
“Are you sure you want me to go?”
Bernadette stopped pulling on Stevie. “What would you do if I told you I want you to stay?”
Stevie shrugged.
“If I told you I think it’s insanely selfish of you to make me fall in love with you and then you fucking up and leave me? It’s selfish of you to think I should be begging you to stay. That’s what you want, isn’t it? You want me to get down on my hands and knees and beg you to not leave me—please, Stevie, don’t leave me!” She could feel heat rising up her neck from her chest. She wasn’t mad, but dammit, why the hell was Stevie not letting this whole argument go? It was already hard enough to say good-bye. Why was she making it harder? “You’re being selfish, exactly as you should be, and I am not going to beg. Ever. You want this. You said so yourself. In the tarot card reading, I knew you were going to always put your career first. And you knew I was never going to leave.”
“Selfish?”
“Yes, it’s fucking selfish of you.” She clenched her fists. “And it’s also fucking selfish of you that you waited so long to tell me. It fucking sucks.” She glanced around at the people as they pushed past her and Stevie standing in the middle of the giant walkway. “I could have had more time to say good-bye to you, but instead I’ve had twelve hours. Twelve whole hours to fucking say good-bye to you, the stupid asshole I fell in love with.”
“Jesus, Bernadette. Don’t hold back. Tell me how you really feel,” Stevie said with an air of sarcasm. Her voice was low, though, and Bernadette knew it was because people were starting to notice them. “Could you keep your voice down, though? You’re being kind of loud.”
“Fuck you,” Bernadette whispered, her voice a low hiss. “You are an asshole.” The conversation was taking a turn Bernadette wasn’t exactly sure how to navigate, but as Stevie continued to make it harder to let go, Bernadette’s heartache was giving way to some very angry feelings, and she needed to say a few things. It would make the split easier.
“Hold on a second.” Stevie grabbed Bernadette’s hand as she started to walk again toward the security line. “Is this how you feel? That I’m selfish? That I did this on purpose? To what? To hurt you?”
She jerked her hand away from Stevie. “Yes. It’s how I feel.”
“Whoa.” The shock was written all over Stevie’s face.
“How can you be surprised? Tell me. Please. Because if you can stand there and tell me you’re surprised that I think you did this all on purpose to break my fucking heart, then you’re a lot naiver than I ever thought.”
“You think I did this all on purpose?” Stevie eyes were wet, but she wasn’t crying. It was clear she wasn’t letting herself cry at the airport in front of a million travelers. “I told you I would stay. I would stay for you.”
“Why the fuck would you stay for me? So you can fucking resent me in ten fucking years when you’re still struggling to make ends meet as a mainstage player? Is that what you think I want?”
“How can you tell me I’m selfish, though, if I’m willing to give it all up to be with you?”
“Because it is. You should never put your dreams on hold for someone else. Not for me. Not for anyone.”
“Why do you think I did this on purpose? I told you I didn’t want this.”
“Oh, I know. But you kept on pushing, didn’t you?”
Stevie gasped. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”
Bernadette wanted to take it all back because she didn’t feel that way. Not at all. But this was what needed to happen. She needed to push Stevie away in order for her to leave and not look back. She was never going to be able to truly give Stevie what she wanted, so Stevie needed to go. Staying was not an option. “I tried to end it. I tried. And you kept pushing and pushing. You wouldn’t let up. I lost everything, Stevie. I lost Connie. Paul is leaving. I lost everything. Now I’m going to be all alone dealing with my mom. And you’re leaving. You’re leaving me.” She frantically wiped her hands over her face and rubbed her eyes. “Admit it. Admit I was another notch in your belt. Another hash mark on your headboard.” The words pouring out of her mouth were making her stomach churn. She wanted to throw up.
“Connie, eh?”
Bernadette’s ears were on fire. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“You lost Connie. That’s what you’re upset about, isn’t it?” All the color had drained from Stevie’s face. She looked as if she was going to pass out right there on the cold airport linoleum. “Heaven forbid you lose the one person who has held you back for years.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” Stevie adjusted her messenger bag on her shoulder. “You blame everyone else for the life you’re living. Your dad, your mom, your brother. But it was always her holding you back.” Stevie narrowed her eyes, then widened them. “And you fucking know it, don’t you?”
Bernadette’s breath left her body completely the second Stevie said those words. She was absolutely right, and being called out, finally, after all these years was like being sucker punched. “Are you trying to make me hate you?” Stevie let out a puff of air and shook her head. Bernadette glared at her as she looked down at the floor, and all Bernadette wanted was to rewind the tape, rewind everything to the minute she met Stevie, to the second their hands touched, so she never had to experience the life Stevie showed her she could have if only she’d let go and live it. For the first time since she met Stevie, she wished she could take everything back. “Mission accomplished, Stevie.”
Stevie looked up from the floor. “Wait. Bernadette…” She went to reach for her again, but Bernadette moved and shoved her hands in her pockets. “This is how you want to end this?”
“It should have never started to begin with.” It was the only truth Bernadette had said during their entire exchange. She swallowed the bile rising up her throat. The taste on her tongue made her body shiver. “Go. You’re going to miss your flight.”
Stevie looked absolutely flabbergasted, as if a freight train had come out of nowhere and slammed into her. Her eyes, her mouth, the way she was standing, everything about her. “I can’t believe—”
“Believe it,” Bernadette said with way more resentment than she thought she had inside her. She took one last look at Stevie—lovely, stunning, incredible Stevie—before she took off, walked right past Stevie, and didn’t turn back as she finally let the tidal wave of emotion crash into her.
Chapter Twenty
Christmas morning was horrible. Of all the Christmases Bernadette had lived through, waking up to the glaring reality that she would never see Stevie again made it one of the worst by far. She pulled her robe on over her pajamas, slid her slippers on, and shuffled into the bathroom across from her room. She stared at her reflection in the mirror. She looked like death warmed over. Her lips were chapped, she had dark circles under her eyes, and there was a blemish the size of a Buick brewing under the surface on her chin. She was almost fifty years old. Why the hell was she getting a goddamn zit?
After she talked herself down from yet another mental breakdown, she could hear her mother in the kitchen. She leaned out of the bathroom and sniffed the air. “Cinnamon rolls,” she said softly, and even through her depression, the idea of her mother’s warm cinnamon rolls was enough to brighten her day. When she turned the corner into the kitchen, the front door swung open, and Paul came barging in, shouting, “Ho, ho, ho,” at the top of his lungs.
She sighed. “You know she can’t hear you. Why do you have to be so loud?”
“Because I know you hate it,” Paul said when he ran into the kitchen and over to their mother. He wrapped his arms around her
“Paulie, you’re freezing,” their mother shouted. “And you’re covered with snow.”
“It’s been snowing all night and mor
ning. Ten inches out there.”
She pointed toward the door. “Start shoveling. Merry Christmas.”
“Marci is doing it.”
“Paul! Go help your wife.” Bernadette rolled her eyes. “You’re such a jerk.”
“Oh, Bernie, Merry Christmas,” Paul said with a laugh as he hugged Bernadette.
She pushed him off and groaned. “Stop. Now, where are my girls?”
“They’re playing in the snow.” Paul tapped their mother’s shoulder and signed, “When will they be done?” He pointed toward the cinnamon rolls.
“A half hour.” She smiled and put her hands on Paul’s face. “You only came for the rolls. Admit it.”
He grinned and shook his head. “We have some news, too.”
Bernadette’s heart sank. They were going to spring the news of them moving today? On Christmas? When Paul turned to walk out of the kitchen, Bernadette grabbed him by the arm. “Today? Of all days?”
“We tried to do it at the party, but Marci was nervous about your reaction.”
“Oh, great.”
“Well? You ran out of the restaurant. You haven’t spoken to us really at all.”
“What am I supposed to say?” Bernadette asked as she followed him to the front door. There was snow all over the floor and she groaned. “You’re such a slob.”
“Bernie?”
Bernadette spread a towel on the floor and wiped up the melted snow. She looked up at Paul after she finished, hands on her hips. “What?”
“I love you.”
And that was all it took for Bernadette’s ice-cold heart to melt into a giant puddle on the floor with the snow. She was crying, and Paul was hugging her within seconds. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered into his shoulder. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“We’re going to fix you.” Paul squeezed her, then pulled away while smiling. “I promise.”
* * *
Life always had a funny way of throwing twists and turns. Bernadette knew that. She had grown up in a family who’d had numerous things happen by accident. Her mother’s hearing loss was caused by an accident. Her parents met because of a bicycle accident they’d both witnessed. She was an accident, a total oops, which she found out one day by overhearing her parents talking about the baby in her mother’s stomach who they actually planned to have this time. It wasn’t easy learning how to handle life. It was hard, and most of the time, her anxious brain would obsess and question everything. Years of therapy helped her, of course, because she knew she needed to be able to be okay. It was funny, though. Most people wanted to be amazing, and all she ever wanted was to be okay, take life as it came, and stop freaking out about the things she could not control. Because if she constantly fought life, she would end up not only losing everyone, but she would also lose herself.
She knew that was not an option. There was no way she could get this far and lose herself along the way. She glanced around the table at Paul and Marci. She landed on her mother, who was seated across from her. There was something about the glow in her cheeks which made her look younger, and she wished her father were there one last time, before Paul changed everything.
Carly was seated next to Bernadette, very upset that she lost the game of rock-paper-scissors to Jesse, which determined who got to sit on Bernadette’s lap. Jesse was now munching away happily on her cinnamon roll, taking a drink of her milk after each bite. But she still made sure to rub it in Carly’s face.
“It’s not fair,” Carly whispered to her. “She knew I was going to choose rock. So, of course, she chose paper.”
Bernadette leaned over and kissed Carly on the top of her head. She smelled like snow. “Don’t worry. You can sit on my lap later.” When Carly looked up at her, the eruption of emotion that started to build was almost frightening. How was she going to handle this? Paul and Marci and the kids—oh God, the kids—moving. She quickly looked away so she didn’t start sobbing right there at the table. She focused her attention on Paul.
Paul, who was betraying her and leaving.
Paul, who was going to make her do everything on her own.
Paul, who knew it was going to break her.
She heard his voice in her head promising her they’d figure it out.
“Now, Mom, this is big news.”
Their mother was all smiles as she cut her cinnamon roll into pieces. “Oh, honey, I think I know what you’re going to say.” She looked from Paul to Marci. “You got the promotion, didn’t you?”
Paul smiled and nodded.
“And something else,” their mother said as she tapped her fork on the plate. “You’re moving.”
“How did you know?” Paul’s eyes moved from Marci to Bernadette. “Did you tell her?”
She shook her head.
And Carly sheepishly raised her hand.
“Carly and I have been practicing signing on FaceTime.” Carly smiled up at her grandmother as she spoke. “I am very proud of her progress.”
“Well, okay then,” Paul said with a laugh. “The plan is, I’ll move by the end of the year.”
“Hmm…doesn’t give you much time to pack.” Their mother’s voice was soft, but she was happy. She was so happy. Bernadette’s heart was in her throat. She wanted to scream at her for being so wonderful and supportive. Why couldn’t she be a horrible mom and tell her son he wasn’t allowed to move? She hated herself in that instant more than she’d ever hated herself before. She was such an asshole.
“We have movers. The company is paying. So it’s all good.” Paul’s eyes softened, and he looked so much like their father that Bernadette’s stoic facade started to crack. “Bernadette and I want to take you to visit the facility you found.”
Their mother’s smile as she looked at Paul, then Bernadette, was beautiful. “Bernie, are you sure?”
She swallowed. Was that what Paul was talking about when he said they’d fix it? If she tried to sign, her hands would be shaking, so she settled on a simple nod. She bit her lip and clasped her hands together tightly under the table.
“So tomorrow we’ll go see the Helping Hands house. Okay?”
She tightened her grip on her own hands as she watched her mother’s smile, at the way she placed her hand on Paul’s bearded face, at the way she always loved him out loud. It was one reason why she missed their father so much.
“Bernie?”
Bernadette raised her eyebrows. “Hmm?”
“Are you okay?”
Bernadette nodded, but the tears streaming down her face betrayed her.
“What in the world is going on?” Their mother stretched across the table, but her arms weren’t quite long enough to reach. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“I am so sorry, Mom.”
“Honey, for what?”
“Paulie told me you were feeling like a prisoner here, and I’m sorry. I think…I don’t know. After losing Dad, I think the idea of losing you, too, was all I feared.” Bernadette’s hands were still trembling, but she ended with, “I thought I was making you happy by keeping you here.”
Their mother let out a very motherly laugh and put her hand on her heart. “Oh, Bernie, darling, I have been happy here. But you’re not happy, my love.”
“I know.” Bernadette shrugged. “Stevie left.” Paul and Marci gasped in unison. “She made it to SNL, so I’m a little worried about being all by myself in this house. But I’ll survive. Right?”
Bernadette watched her mother stand and walk over to where she was sitting. “Stand up,” she instructed, and when she did, her mother pulled her into a hug. “You know you were always my number one.”
Bernadette pulled away and smiled at her. “I know.”
Chapter Twenty-one
After Paul’s news was sprung at the table on Christmas, Bernadette made sure to spend the evening wrapped up in a blanket reading books with both girls, watching Christmas movies, and finding every reason to remind them how much she loved them both. When the time came for them to leave, s
he pulled out her laptop and did some light research about the facility they were visiting. She was glad she did, too, because the more she read, the more excited she got for her mother. And honestly, the more excited she got for herself.
Now, as she sat with her mother and Paul in the waiting room of the admissions department at Helping Hands Assisted Living Community, she tried to remember that all of this was good for all of them. Paul moving was good for him. Their mother moving was good for her. And Bernadette staying put and figuring her life out was good for her. She was only dreading it slightly, for no other reason than she was so nervous. She’d focused so much of her life on her mother. The idea of not having to do that anymore was scary. What would she do with all her spare time? She’d have to find another interpreting job since she wasn’t interpreting for Connie any longer, even though Connie begged her via text to come back, which wasn’t surprising. Bernadette said no, of course, which hurt almost as much as when Stevie called out her ridiculousness in the airport. But as time passed, it was getting easier. Oh, hell. Who was she trying to kid? That was all a lie. It wasn’t easier. It was less raw. And Connie wasn’t understanding, so her incessant texting wasn’t helping. Maybe one day, she would get it, but in the meantime, Bernadette needed to focus on herself.
She needed to heal.
Let go of the past.
Move on and live in the present.
It was working.
Sort of…
Bernadette swallowed once, then again, forcing the lump down that was forming in her throat. She felt Paul’s hand on hers, and she looked down at the hair on his knuckles, thinking how with every single day that passed, he reminded her more and more of their father, and she turned more and more into their mother. The recognition of that idea made her insides uncomfortable, and she moved her hand. “I’m fine,” she whispered as she folded her arms across her chest. “I promise.”
