Beautiful Disaster

by Rye Hart

  “He’s still in surgery,” she said. “But it looks like he’s stable. If anything changes, I’ll let you know immediately.”

  “Is there somewhere I can wait?” I asked.

  The nurse pointed down the hall to a waiting room. I nodded my thanks and slowly walked forward. As I did, I pulled out my phone to dial Julie’s number. Now that I was at the hospital, I could slow down long enough to call her. I didn’t want her to think I’d stood her up for no reason.

  “Michael?” a woman’s voice said behind me.

  I didn’t recognize the voice, but when I turned around, my heart fell into my stomach, and my throat tightened painfully. I swallowed hard and blinked, sure that I was seeing things.

  “Michael?” she asked again. “Is that you?”

  I froze. I would have recognized those eyes anywhere. After all, they were the same eyes I saw staring back at me every time I looked in a mirror. They were the same eyes that Josh and I shared. Dark blue. Round. And full of emotion.

  “Yeah,” I said slowly. “I’m Michael.”

  “Oh my god.”

  She took a step forward but stopped herself. I didn’t know what to say or what to think. I rushed to the hospital without thinking about the possibility that she might be there. Of course she was there. She was Josh’s mother. My biological mom. The woman who gave me up for adoption when I was just an hour old.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I don’t really know what to say.”

  “Let’s sit down,” she said. Her voice was weak.

  She gestured toward a couple of chairs beside us. I followed her over and sat down, my hands shaking as I laid them on my knees.

  “I’m Sheila,” she said with an uncertain smile. “I don’t know if you know who I am, but—”

  “You’re my mother,” I said boldly.

  Sheila blinked and swallowed. Pain crossed over her face, but she pushed it away and smiled instead. She nodded and just stared at me until I was ready to speak again.

  “Josh told me a lot about you,” I said lamely.

  “He’s told me a lot about you, too,” Sheila said. “It’s meant a lot to him that you two could finally meet.”

  “Yeah,” I said. Talking about Josh made me think of Julie. I looked down at my phone, which was still clutched in my trembling hands. I tucked it away in my pocket. There was no way I could make a phone call now.

  “Listen,” Sheila said. “I want you to know that I understand why you didn’t want to meet me.”

  I nodded but didn’t say anything. I spent the past two years getting to know my brother. We talked. Slowly, we became brothers. Despite what happened with Julie, Josh was still my brother and I loved him, no matter what. Sheila was something different.

  I had no memories of her. The first time Josh asked if I wanted to meet her, I said no without thinking. Josh never brought it up again. He just let it go, assuming that I would ask if I ever wanted the chance to see her. Deep down, I was always curious. I wondered about the woman who gave me away. I wondered who she was, what she was like, and if she ever regretted her decision.

  Now that we were sitting there beside each other, I didn’t know what to say.

  “I have a million questions,” I finally said. “I don’t even know where to start.”

  “You can ask me anything,” Sheila said. “Anything you want.”

  “Why did you give me away?” I asked.

  The question flew from my lips before I could stop myself. Sheila inhaled sharply, and her eyes darkened with emotion. She looked more like Josh than ever.

  “It’s a long story,” Sheila said.

  “We have time.” I looked around the waiting room, silently showing her that we weren’t going anywhere anytime soon.

  “I already had Joshua,” Sheila said. “And when you came along, I was in the hole. Drugs. Alcohol. Everything.”

  “Josh told me you’re sober now,” I said.

  “I am.” Sheila smiled. “I have been for over twenty years.”

  “That’s great,” I said.

  “But back then,” Sheila continued. “I couldn’t take care of another child. I was already terrified that the state would take Joshua away. The idea of losing you both, it was too much to bear. I knew I had to do what was best for you.”

  “And you did,” I said. “My parents are amazing.”

  “I know.” Sheila smiled again. “I’ve kept up with all three of you over the years. Your mother was kind enough to send me your school pictures.”

  “She did?” I asked.

  Sheila nodded. “Your mom’s a very kind person.”

  I nodded and looked down at my hands. This whole night felt like a dream. Josh was in surgery. I didn’t know if he would make it or not. My biological mother was sitting in the waiting room, talking about how amazing my adopted mom was.

  “This is crazy,” I said under my breath.

  “I’m sorry,” Sheila said. “This isn’t how I wanted to meet you for the first time.”

  “Me neither,” I said. “I wish the nurses would tell us something about Josh.”

  “They will soon,” Sheila said with confidence.

  When I looked over at her, I saw fear etched into the lines on her face. Her lips were pressed tightly together, and her eyes were wide. She wrung her hands together slowly. For the first time since I saw her, I realized how horrible this must be for her.

  Her son was in surgery, and all she could do was wait for news. My heart ached as I watched her. Finally, I reached over and took her hand. I squeezed it gently.

  “He’s going to be okay,” I said firmly. “Josh is strong. Everything’s going to be fine.”

  “Thank you.” Sheila blinked back tears and clutched my hand.

  We sat like that for what felt like hours. I tried not to watch the clock, but it felt like time was moving slower than ever before. When the doctor finally appeared, Sheila and I both jumped to our feet and hurried forward.

  CHAPTER 29

  JULIE

  My eyes never left the clock. I’d been ready for over an hour, my excitement so all-consuming that I could barely sit still. Michael and I had things to talk about and problems we would have to work through, but I couldn’t wait to see him again. His Christmas gifts were the only ones left under my tree. I imagined us having an amazing dinner, coming back to my place to open presents, and then talking into the night. Things wouldn’t be perfect. We would have to move slowly, but I felt lighter than air as I paced around my living room and waited for him to arrive.

  We planned to meet after Michael left work. He promised to pick me up around five-thirty. We’d grab some food and talk. It was a simple plan, but it was a plan nonetheless. So, when eight o’clock rolled around and I still hadn’t heard from him, my excitement turned to anger.

  I tried to call him three times in those three hours. His phone rang the first time, then sent me to voicemail. The next time, it went straight to voicemail. On the third try, I left him an angry message.

  “Michael,” I said. “I don’t know what game you’re playing, but you’re a world-class asshole for pulling this! I’ve been waiting for you for three hours! You haven’t even called or texted. At first, I was worried that something happened to you, but now I know you’re just a horrible person.”

  I hung up and threw my phone across the room. Without thinking, I grabbed my coat and my keys and hurried outside. A drive would clear my head and help me move past all this anger. As I climbed behind the wheel, I realized there was only one place I wanted to go. I put the car in drive and sped through town until I reached Michael’s property.

  All the lights were off in his house. His car was nowhere to be found. I thought about getting out anyway. Banging on the door would release some of my frustrations. Eventually, I just drove home, feeling defeated and miserable.

  How could he do this to me? After everything we’d already been through, for him to stand me up without so much as a text message was unforgivable. I couldn�
��t believe I’d let myself believe he was a good man. I pushed aside my worries and doubts to make things work between us. I was trying to forgive him for all the lies, and still, he couldn’t be bothered to show up.

  I was so angry that I could barely see straight. When I got back home, my phone was still sitting on the floor where I threw it. I grabbed it, frantically unlocking the screen to see if Michael called while I was gone. He didn’t. There was nothing but a blank screen staring back at me.

  I called him again. This time, I didn’t leave a message. I heard his voicemail pick up, and I hung up without a second thought. I called Andrea next. She, unlike Michael, answered on the second ring.

  “What’s up?” Andrea asked. “I thought tonight was your big date with Michael.”

  “He never showed,” I said.

  “What?”

  Andrea agreed to come over and spend the night with me. I didn’t want to be alone. If I was, I knew I’d spend all night obsessing over Michael. I’d already called him four times. The last thing I needed to do was blow up his phone even more, especially since he obviously didn’t want anything to do with me.

  When Andrea finally arrived, she immediately pulled me to the couch and made me tell her everything.

  “There’s not much to tell,” I said. “I called him last night to talk about things. It was a hard conversation, but it helped. I missed him, and he missed me. Or, so I thought.”

  “So, he just never showed up?” Andrea asked. “He didn’t call or text or—”

  “Nothing.” I shook my head. “I can’t believe I was so stupid. I should have known better than to trust him again.”

  “Did you try to call him?” Andrea asked.

  “Of course,” I said. “Four times.”

  “Are you sure he’s okay?” Andrea’s eyes narrowed nervously. I could tell she didn’t want to make me angry, but she had to ask the question.

  “I’m sure he’s fine,” I said with a sigh. “He probably just had second thoughts and bailed. I went by his house, but he wasn’t home. My guess is, he went to Dallas for the night. He’s probably up there drinking with Joshua or something equally disturbing.”

  “I can’t believe this…” Andrea trailed off, shaking her head in disgust. “I really thought he was a good guy. He seemed to care about you so much.”

  “They all do at first,” I said. “Then, they pull something like this, and we finally see who they really are.”

  Andrea nodded, but she didn’t seem convinced. If anything, she looked more skeptical than ever. When she opened her mouth to speak again, I gave her a warning look. I didn’t need anyone to defend Michael tonight. No explanation could possibly be good enough for what he did. After days of not speaking to each other, after lies and secrets, we were finally going to move forward. We were all set to start over and then he stood me up and ruined everything.

  “What should we do tonight?” Andrea asked. “Drinks? Food? Movies?”

  “All of the above,” I said. I smiled gratefully as Andrea sprang into action.

  She went into the kitchen to grab us each a beer. Then she ordered a pizza and fired up Netflix. We browsed through the movies for a long time, laughing at the ridiculous titles and storylines. After we finally chose a movie, the pizza arrived. We were each three beers in already.

  Drinking wasn’t the answer to all my problems, but for one night, it certainly helped numb the pain. Every time Michael popped into my head, I took a swig of my beer to push him away again. It wasn’t until Andrea and I were both drunk and full on pizza that I couldn’t fight the thoughts any longer.

  I saw his face in my head, smiling at me with those dark blue eyes locked on my face. He was walking toward me, his fingers outstretched. When he touched my face, I could have sworn he was real. It felt like he was in my living room, stroking my cheek and leaning in for a soft kiss. Our lips touched, and just like that, reality settled in around me.

  I shook my head and groaned as I laid back on the floor. Carpet fibers dug into the skin on my arms, but I didn’t care. My body was full of alcohol and misery. I barely felt a thing.

  Andrea laid down beside me and held my hand. The world spun around us, and I knew it wouldn’t be long before we both passed out. Still, I wasn’t ready to succumb to sleep. Not yet. There was still something I had to do while I felt courageous and bold.

  “I’m going to call him again,” I said. I sat up to search for my phone.

  “You already did that,” Andrea said. “Remember?”

  “Only when I was sober,” I said. “I haven’t drunk called him yet.”

  “That’s a good thing,” Andrea said. Her eyes swam as she tried to focus on my face. “Drunk calls are never a good idea, Jules.”

  “That’s not true,” I said firmly. “Alcohol makes you confident. Strong. I need to say some things to Michael while I still feel this way.”

  “You’re going to regret it,” Andrea said.

  “I won’t.”

  I didn’t know if Andrea was right or if I was, but I didn’t care. At that moment, I only had one thought running through my head: Michael. He needed to know just how badly he hurt me. He needed to know how badly he screwed up tonight. This, unlike everything else, was unforgivable. My heart was in pieces on the floor and, still, Michael hadn’t bothered to call me back or send me a text. I was done with him, and he needed to know that.

  “Oh look,” I said. “My phone.”

  I lunged across the floor to grab it. When I unlocked the screen, I noticed that my fingers felt heavy. What I didn’t remember was that I’d already drunk dialed Michael once that night. I didn’t leave a message, but I tried to call him while Andrea was in the bathroom. Now, though, I didn’t care if Andrea listened. I didn’t care if the whole world listened. I was calling Michael; consequences be damned.

  “Are you sure about this?” Andrea asked. She was still lying on her back, staring blankly at the ceiling.

  “I’m sure.”

  I dialed Michael’s number and pressed the phone clumsily to my ear. It went straight to voicemail. Michael’s deep voice filled my ears. My stomach tightened. Even his voice was sexy. I hated myself for thinking it, but I couldn’t help it.

  “Michael!” I said after the beep. “You still haven’t called me. What the fuck? After everything you’ve already put me through, you’re just going to stand me up? Is this a joke or something? Are you and Joshua sitting together at some bar, laughing at my expense? ‘Oh, that stupid Julie! She actually thought I would show up tonight! What an idiot!’”

  I paused to hiccup. My throat burned from the remnants of the alcohol I drank that night, but I pressed on.

  “Well, I am an idiot,” I said. “I’m an idiot to believe that you ever cared about me. I thought you lied because you liked me, but you didn’t. You lied because you’re a liar and nothing more. You’re just a lying liar asshole like your brother, and I never want to see you again. Ever!”

  Andrea snorted beside me. She was right, I was starting to ramble. I sounded ridiculous, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t done yet.

  “Don’t call me,” I said. “Don’t come by. Don’t even try to see me. You lost your chance. I gave you a second chance, and you fucked it up, so just stay away from me. For good.”

  I hung up and immediately toppled over backward. Andrea laughed at my clumsiness, and soon, I was roaring with laughter right along with her. We rolled on the floor, both red in the face and beyond drunk. It wasn’t until the next morning that I realized what I’d done.

  It wasn’t funny. Nothing about this situation was humorous and, yet, laughter was the only thing that kept me glued together that night. Andrea and I both passed out at around the same time, curling up on my living room floor and letting the alcohol lull us into a deep sleep.

  The next morning, my head was spinning. My stomach felt like a pit of burning lava. I stumbled into the bathroom and pulled the door closed behind me. Andrea was still asleep, so I jumped in the shower and t
ried to wash off the memory of last night. If I could have stayed there all day, just letting the warm water drip over my skin, I would have.

  But about twenty minutes later, Andrea called out to me from the hallway. She had to leave for work, so I turned off the shower and let her use the bathroom. We said a quick goodbye, but I wasn’t ready for her to leave.

  “Thank you for coming over,” I said. “I’m not sure I could have survived last night without you.”

  “You can survive anything, Julie,” Andrea said firmly. “Anything.”