by Ruth Morse
“At least you had the guts to come here and ask Lana’s parents’ permission. Kids these days…” he said thoughtfully, stirring sugar into his coffee cup. He shook his head again, smiling at his thoughts. “Anyway, you’re eighteen, Lana, which means you’re not a child anymore. I trust you know what you’re doing. Go on. Take your trip. Don’t worry about Mom. I’ll deal with it.”
I halted, my mouth gaping open and my eyebrows high on my forehead. What just happened? The joy of knowing that I was able to be there for Max had a bitter aftertaste. So just like that? It was too simple to be normal and too unexpected to be true, so I stood there, trying to hide my confusion, not knowing what to say. But seeing Max’s shining face, I dismissed all my doubts. We’d be together and that was all that mattered.
Max approached my Dad, holding out his hand in a second attempt. “I promise I’ll take care of Lana.”
That time Dad gave him a long, firm handshake. “I’m counting on you, young man.”
“Thanks, Dad. I won’t forget this,” I said, thinking that despite my vague disappointment, I sincerely meant it.
I followed Max into the hallway and immediately found myself in his embrace.
“I thought that’d be much worse.” He slightly pulled away. “Do you think I should stay and talk to your mom too?”
“No way! Dad said he’d handle it. Let him do his job.”
Max kissed me on the cheek softly. By the absent-minded look in his eyes and his pursed lips, I realized he was already planning the follow-up trip.
“Do you really have a birthday coming up?” I said, interrupting his thoughts.
Max nodded.
“You’re a Leo then?”
“Cancer,” he corrected me with a chuckle.
“Cancer follows or comes before?”
His lips broke into a sly smile, one corner lifting upward. “It comes before, and yes, my birthday is this month. But I’m not gonna tell you when.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t celebrate it. And you’ll want to make a big deal about it or even worse, give me a present.”
“Well, I won’t do anything if you don’t want me to,” I murmured, trying to hide the disappointment in my voice.
“I’ll tell you on the day so you don’t have time to plan anything, okay?” He lifted my chin gently, looking into my eyes. “Right now I’m just glad you’re coming with me.”
Max leaned in. Warmth radiated through my body when his lips found mine in a long kiss. I wrapped my arms around his neck, but he unwillingly pulled away. “I have to go now,” he said, putting on his jacket. “I love you, Lana.”
“I love you. See you tomorrow.”
He headed for the street and quickly disappeared behind the corner of my house. I watched him leave, my heart racing. I still couldn’t believe that for the first time in my life I was going on a trip without my parents, and the reason for it would make me feel so empty and cold inside. I took a deep breath and slammed the door shut.
***
“How could you do this?! Are you insane?”
“When you shout like this, Martha, your mouth freaks me out.”
“I don’t give a shit! And you…” Mom spun her head around to look at me sternly. “You waited for me to leave so you could talk to your daddy in a heart-to-heart, huh? Talk over your little plans without me?”
“Calm down, Martha. Lana, tell this drama queen everything you told me,” Dad said, waving his hand wearily.
It was almost midnight. Mom had just come back home from her friend’s bachelorette party. The smell of alcohol overpowered her perfume. She stood in the center of the living room, the untied straps of her shoes swinging every time she shifted her weight from one foot to the other.
“Drama queen? God, isn’t he stupid!” She shifted her indignant gaze to me then back to Dad. “Did you actually think you had the right to decide for both of us?”
“We’d already talked about how nice it would be for Lana to take a trip or something. ‘A sip of fresh air,’ remember?”
“Yes, but we had to make the decision together!”
“I’m sorry, but wasn’t it your idea?” Dad said, approaching Mom and taking the coat from her shoulders.
Mom didn’t answer. Her chest heaved as she slowly calmed down. Only in that moment of silence did I notice that she looked refreshed, rejuvenated even. Her makeup was beautiful, except for the shiny glare on her forehead and the red lipstick that had smeared a little.
When I planned the conversation out in my head before, I figured Mom would be the most understanding. It turned out that Dad was the one who’d actually understood me and even tried to deflect Mom’s irritation. She didn’t seem to be surprised that I had a boyfriend; she was only concerned that I was leaving. Or maybe she was more upset that Dad allowed me to go without asking her?
Do I even know the people I live with?
Mom took a deep breath and plopped down in the armchair. She wearily tilted her head to one side. “Maybe you’re right,” she said, tossing her shoes and rubbing her tired legs. “But I still don’t want you to make decisions about our daughter on your own.”
“I…” I murmured, feeling Dad’s glance on me. “You didn’t tell me you wanted me to travel.”
“Your mom and I briefly spoke about it,” Dad said. “And here you are with your stuff already packed. What are the odds, huh?”
Mom shifted her glance to him, her lips twitching in a smile. Something in that smile made my skin crawl. I couldn’t figure out what was wrong about it: the way she looked at Dad or how she nodded to his words. Her whole face was different and that was important. I just didn’t know why.
“I want you to remember that no matter what, we still need to make decisions about our daughter together,” Mom said, breaking the silence.
Dad bent over and picked up her shoes from the floor. “I know, and I agree. It’s late. Let’s go to sleep,” he said.
“What do you mean?”
They both turned their heads to me.
“What is it, honey?” Mom asked.
“You said, ‘No matter what.’ What did you mean by that?” I said quietly.
“Oh.” Mom smiled and ran a hand through my hair. “Nothing, sweetie. No matter what, we’re your parents and we love you.”
Did she really just say we love you? Gosh, I couldn’t even remember when the last time was that I heard that phrase from her. Dad approached Mom. She took his outstretched hand and stood up.
“We’re going to bed,” she said, adjusting her dress. “Good night, honey. Don’t forget to pack all you need, all right?”
“Okay. Goodnight,” was all I said.
They both left to go upstairs. I remained on the sofa, my arms crossed over my chest. Chaos made my head heavy. I was so confused and so tired that I couldn’t move, couldn’t think, and couldn’t sort out my feelings. Eventually I stood up. Numb and lost, all I wished for in that moment was to go to my room and fall asleep.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“Tom!!!”
I wake up, my body shaking all over. Mom’s shouts break into screeches, punctuated by sobs and hyperventilating breaths.
The floor rumbles. Dad rushes to Mom, his footsteps stomping down the stairs. All the sounds reach me as if there is cotton in my ears, my heartbeat the most deafening sound of them all. I leave my bed and go through the hallway. My shoulders shake with each new scream.
“Breathe! Breathe!”
Mom stops crying. She makes a strange noise instead. It sounds more like a howl, a mad, animal howl that paralyzes me with its frantic anguish.
I reach the kitchen and see Jaxen on the floor. The ruthlessly bright lights illuminate his fragile body. Hissed rattles come from his mouth. His eyes are wide open as he stares at the ceiling in horror.
“Lana! Ambulance. Call an ambulance! Lana, oh my God!” Mom shouts, clinging to Jax’s shoulders.
Dad pushes her away. He kneels beside Jaxen, his hands quickly
lay on Jax’s chest, pressing hard on him in sharp, rhythmic movements.
One, two, three.
One, two, three.
Jax’s mouth opens and closes, rattles coming out of it with a quiet, suppressed whistle. Dad leans over Jax to do rescue breathing, but Mom clutches his left arm in both her hands. Dad turns away and a loud slap rings in the room.
“Pull yourself together! Call an ambulance, open the windows, and for fuck’s sake, get Lana away from here! Can’t you see she pissed herself in fear!”
“I told her to call,” Mom muttered, getting up on her feet slowly as if she was frozen to the spot.
Jaxen’s head is turned away from me, but I feel like he’s looking right into my eyes. He’s desperately gasping for air, but only a dull wheeze escapes his lungs. His face turns blue. My fingers dig into the palms of my hands until they bleed. Shameful moisture drips from the edge of my pajama pants. A small puddle forms on the floor. I can’t move.
“Martha, go!” Dad cries, not stopping chest compressions.
Mom rushes into the hallway, pushing me away from the doorway. I lose balance and fall, hitting the doorknob.
Something rolls on the floor. Jaxen loosens his grip and a jar falls from his hand. I recognize it. Mom had spent the whole day cooking that plum syrup for Jax’s birthday party. I was so pleased when she let me try it. She bustled around the kitchen, arguing with Dad on the phone. “What do you mean, you’re going to be late?…No, we can’t, the store closes in twenty minutes. We can’t go there tomorrow, the manager agreed to hold that robot for us just for one day! Jaxen doesn’t want any other toy, for God’s sake! I’ll take a taxi. Thanks for your help, Tom.”
That day she told me to put the jar on the highest shelf where Jaxen couldn’t reach it. He loved scrounging through the kitchen cabinets at night, searching for any sweets. I try to remember if I did what Mom asked. Did I hide that jar? I go back to that day, over and over, until seconds stretch into infinity, into a whole separated universe where I stare at Jax’s trembling arms, at the pieces of his ripped pajama shirt. The echo of my repeated question escalates into an endless scream. The universe implodes and I bury my despair in tears, crying hysterically, stuttering like the helpless, frightened child I am. I can’t remember. I just don’t know.
Viscous purple fluid drains out of the jar until it’s empty. The jar rolls in front of me and stops at my feet. Jax’s eyes close.
“Jaxen! Open your eyes! Can you hear me? Jax?!”
“Lana! Wake up, Lana!”
I opened my eyes, breathless from all my screaming. Mel laid her hand on my wet forehead. “It’s okay, it’s just a bad dream,” she whispered, stroking my shoulder.
“Yeah,” I murmured.
I rose up on my elbows and cleared my throat. “What time is it?” I asked hoarsely.
“It’s already one in the afternoon. Had a fun night, huh? Why didn’t you tell me you’re leaving?”
“One o’clock? Damn it!”
I jumped out of bed. The dizziness came over me, sending black spots to my eyes.
“Mel, Max is going to pick me up in an hour and then we’ll be leaving for San Francisco. I don’t know how long it’ll take, but I hope as long as possible. Will you help me pack my stuff?” I said, making my bed and trying to fix my hair at the same time.
Without any hesitation, Mel nodded and approached my desk. One by one, a phone charger, pocket mirror, and hair clips flew into the backpack. I sighed with relief. When things demanded a quick response, Mel was the only person I could rely on.
“Just don’t forget your phone,” Mel said when my desk was empty.
“Thanks. By the way, how did you know I was leaving?” I asked, my hands sorting through the books on my nightstand. Dostoevsky was leaving with me too.
“You ran away from the concert—which was awesome, by the way—and you didn’t say a word to me afterwards. Your phone was dead so I started to worry. I decided to go to your place. Met your dad downstairs, and he told me everything. He wasn’t even pissed off at me which shocked me nearly as much as the news about you leaving,” Mel said, chuckling.
I halted, my lips stretching into a disbelieving smile. “He talked to you?”
“Yeah, he even offered me some maple pancakes. What’s wrong with him?”
“I have no idea. Did he leave for work already?”
Mel nodded, and then added, “Your mom too.”
“They didn’t even say goodbye,” I said, puzzled.
Mel shrugged. “Maybe they didn’t want to wake you?”
“I guess so…”
I walked over to the shelf and picked up Leonardo. His red claw fell on top of my hand. I smiled and shook it carefully.
Mel arched an eyebrow. “Are you bringing Leo with you?”
I nodded, putting Leo in my backpack. One of his claws got stuck in the zipper as if he wanted to escape. Don’t worry. You’re going to be in good hands, I thought with tenderness, stroking his claw.
“Do you have any money?” Mel said, sitting on the bed cross-legged and watching me wander around the room.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” I replied, my gaze going through the wardrobe shelves.
“Your parents gave you money?”
I shook my head. “Had to break my piggy bank,” I said with a smile.
Mel snorted. “That’s what I thought. Here, take this.”
She rummaged in her pocket and pulled out two hundred-dollar bills.
“Do you always have so much money on you?” I looked over my shoulder, throwing my T-shirts and socks into the backpack behind me.
Mel rolled her eyes and shook her finger at me. “You can’t fool me, Foxy. I only carry that much on me when I’m about to go shopping and you know it. Stop wasting your breath and pretending that you’re too damn busy to face me. Take the cash or I won’t let you go anywhere farther than your room.”
I sighed and turned to her. After one brief glance at her stubborn face, I raised my hands up, surrendering. “I’ll pay you back,” I murmured.
Mel approached me, a mocking smile playing on her lips. “Damn right you will! No charity here!” she said, giving me a cheerful slap on the back.
I narrowed my eyes and then dragged her into my embrace, my left hand tickling her neck and my right hand squeezing her shoulders, holding her in a tight grip.
“After everything I did for you!” Mel cried. She wiggled her body, trying to escape, but my grip was relentless.
“I call it My Sweet Little Revenge,” I said, my voice deliberately slow. “But I’m not as cruel as you are, so I’ll set you free.”
“Yes, yes, do it then, you traitor!”
The second I loosened my grip, Mel jumped aside and rushed to my bed. She grabbed two pillows. One flew at me and the other remained in her hand. I caught the pillow a moment before it hit my head.
“Face me in a fair fight!” Mel screamed with joy. Not giving me time to answer, she lunged forward. Sparks of madness danced in her eyes as she raised the pillow. I took a step back and bent over. The pillow cut through the air where my head had been.
We fought mercilessly. Mel nearly succeeded in reaching my butt with her pillow when my phone rang. We turned our heads to the sound. I shifted my glance to Mel, nodding meaningfully. She nodded in return, her hand throwing the pillow back on my bed.
“For later,” she grumbled, blowing her messed-up hair off her face.
“I’m outside,” Max’s vigorous voice sang into the phone.
“I’ll be down in a minute,” I replied, not shifting my suspiciously narrowed eyes from Mel. She made a face and turned her back to me.
“Do you want me to help you with your luggage?” Max asked.
“I can handle one backpack, but thanks anyway.” I chuckled.
“Okay then, strong and independent girl, I’m waiting.”
I put my phone into my pocket and took a deep breath.
“You know, Foxy,” Mel said, pulling out a huge pack of coo
kies from her bag. “I really worry about you.”
My glance landed on the pack in her hands. I grinned with amusement. “Mel, you’re like my grandma!”
“Maybe you’ll remember to text me while eating these precious…” She looked at the cookies and sighed. “I’m, like, tearing them from my heart.”
“Don’t worry,” I said, grabbing the pack with a pleased smile. “I’ll call to let you know how delicious they were.”
“You’re a monster,” she moaned. Her eyes remained on the cookies till they disappeared in my backpack.
“Well, we have to go now,” I said, picking up my jacket from the bed.
Mel didn’t say anything. I glanced at her. Her big, wide open eyes weren’t sparkling anymore. Her gaze was on me, studying my face thoughtfully. She crossed her arms over her chest, saying, “I want you to know that I didn’t take that crap about you going to a concert seriously. Not for a single second. So when you’re ready, tell me the truth, please.”
I paused. “Sure, Mel,” I murmured, lowering my head.
“Oh, Foxy.” Mel hurried to my side and gave me a tight hug. We didn’t pull away from each other for a whole minute. Finally, she took a step away, saying, “Why can’t I get rid of the feeling that something bad is gonna happen?”
“Because we’ve never been away from each other for that long, and you just love to make everything dramatic.” I enclosed her hand in both of mine. “Don’t worry, Mel. I won’t be alone, remember? I’ll be with Max.”
“I should remind myself about that more often,” she said with a faint smile. After a pause, she took a deep breath through her nose then exhaled loudly. “Let’s go.”
The van’s door creaked open. Max jumped to the ground. He was in loose cotton pants, white sneakers, and a light blue shirt. He greeted Mel with a warm hug and took the backpack from my hands. I gave him a slight kiss on the lips.
“I’ll be in the van,” he said tactfully.
“Promise to bring Lana back to me in one piece.” Mel wagged her finger at him.
Max nodded. “I promise,” he said without a trace of a smile.
“Well then, the great journey begins, huh?” Mel said when the van’s door closed behind Max’s back.
