At seven, I left my childhood behind and took on the role of making life run easily and smoothly for my mother. I didn’t want to put one more burden on her heavily-laden shoulders. I was determined to be strong for her because she was determined to be strong for us and I felt like I owed her. I made sure I didn’t cause her any more trouble or pain. I became very skilled at shelving my own pain. I didn’t ask her for anything even on my birthday. I didn’t go to her for help with my problems and became good at figuring things out on my own. When I reached high school and started dating boys, it felt like a betrayal to her so I shied away from those conversations as well. Her heart was going to be forever broken and as I fell in and out of love every other week like teenagers do, I kept it to myself.
I loved my mom, but never wanted to be like her. In third grade, I made a commitment to myself that I was never going to get myself into the situation she got herself into. I was never going to be so dependent on a man that I couldn’t take care of myself. I would have my own career no matter what. I worked hard in school and got good grades. Unlike my mom, who didn’t hold her first job until she was in her early thirties, I had my first job when I was ten. I had a paper route and by the time I was twelve, my weekends were spent babysitting. I started working at the local Sonic after school and on the weekends when I was fourteen and worked there until I graduated high school. I didn’t want my mom to feel responsible for putting me through college so I started saving my money as soon as I started earning it. I couldn’t count on getting a scholarship and wanted to make sure I had a way to go. I didn’t want my mom to feel any pressure. I got lucky and got a full scholarship to USC.
I’d been hiding my feelings and problems from her for so long it’d become automatic and happened unconsciously, but I wasn’t going to be able to hide this problem. My humiliation was going to be as public as hers had been.
Chapter Ten
When I got back to the room, David was sitting on Rori’s bed reading her a book. The ward had a small play area where the kids could play. It was stocked with a Thomas the Train table, a kitchen and art supplies. David must’ve gone down to the play area while I was having my coffee.
“Hi, Mommy,” Rori greeted me with a weak smile. It was the first time I’d seen her smile since she’d been at the hospital. I couldn’t bring myself to think about how this would affect her. My heart broke all over again.
“Hi, honey.” I took a seat next to her and gave her a tight squeeze. Her body had never been so frail. It was like pulling a pile of bones next to me. I rubbed her back and felt her vertebrae poking through her pink pajamas.
“Daddy’s reading me a book,” she said.
“I see that. Do you like it?”
She nodded. “He said when I get better he’ll take me to the kid’s room and I can pick out whatever books I want to read. I want Pinkalicious.”
Rori was obsessed with everything pink. Last Christmas, my mother had gotten her the book, Pinkalicious, and even though she didn’t know how to read, you’d swear she did as she flipped through every page never missing a word.
“How about the next time I go home, I bring back Pinkalicious?”
Her eyes lit up and she clapped.
I settled in next to her on her right side while David sat on her left and finished reading her Bernstein Bears. He was only halfway through the next book when she drifted back to sleep.
“Robin is going to be here in an hour so we can talk,” he said.
“What? How did that happen?”
“I got permission.”
“From who?”
“Dr. Wilcox,” he spoke in a clipped tone.
I knew the moment Robin walked through the door that my suspicions were true—she knew.
“Hi, guys,” she said.
She didn’t give me a hug like she normally would. Her eyes nervously flitted around me, looking everywhere but my eyes. She swept through the room picking up coffee cups and tossing them into the garbage. She brushed off imaginary crumbs from the table stretched over Rori’s bed.
“Text us if she wakes up,” David said and turned on his heels to leave.
I followed him down the familiar hallway and into a room on the right side. I hadn’t expected to have our conversation in an empty hospital room. There was something eerie about it. So sterile and barren. I couldn’t help but wonder if it was empty because a child had just died. Much like our room, it had two chairs and I slid into one. There was no way I was going to sit on the bed just in case a child had died there. David took the other one. He pulled it away from mine, back against the wall underneath the TV as far away from me as he could get. He folded his arms across his chest. His jaw was clenched.
“Who is Rori’s dad?” He glared at me.
“David, can we talk about this?”
“We are. Right now. Who is Rori’s dad?”
“You’re Rori’s dad. You’re her dad. You–”
“Shut the fuck up. I’m not doing this with you. Not now. Not ever. Tell me who her father is.” I’d never seen him look so angry. His was entire body was rigid. He looked at me as if I was a vile creature and it took every ounce of energy he had to restrain himself from attacking me and gouging my eyes out.
“Please, please–I just–I just…” The tears that had been frozen began sliding down my cheeks.
“Celeste, answer my question. You can either answer it now or this will get really ugly. Our daughter is dying and her father might be the key to saving her life. I know you might not care about that, but right now, it’s the only thing I care about. I don’t give a shit how he fucked you or where you fucked him. I just want to know what kind of a fucked-up medical history he has so I can save my daughter.”
“It’s not even what you think, David. I swear. It wasn’t even like that. It was only–”
He shot me a scathing look and stood up.
“Please, I want to explain–”
He took a step in the direction of the door.
“Fine. We’ll do this the hard way.”
He was in the doorway about to be gone. He was leaving again. He couldn’t leave me. Not here. Not like this.
“David!”
He stopped. His back still to me. I was shaking uncontrollably.
“Phil. It was Phil.”
I waited for him to turn around. He didn’t even flinch, just stood still as a statue. I wanted to beg him to turn around, look at me, or talk to me, but he never turned around. Didn’t utter a word. He simply walked out the door without looking back. I crumpled in my chair, sobbing uncontrollably.
This couldn’t be happening. I tried to be quiet as I sobbed, but it was impossible. They came from deep within and shook me to my core. I’d done what I’d done to keep my family together and now I was going to lose them. The harder I willed myself to stop crying, the harder the sobs came each wave more intense than the last. Robin appeared in the doorway.
“Hey,” she said, cautiously from her spot. “I’m on my way out.”
My face was drenched with tears and snot. Any other time, she would’ve rushed to my side and thrown her arms around me, told me it was going to be okay, and begged me to tell her the story. Instead, she stood grounded to her post just like David. She looked at me as if I was a stranger she was meeting for the first time.
“Do you know?” I asked the question even though I already knew the answer.
She stared straight through me with no emotion on her face. “He told me last night.”
“Are you mad at me?”
She opened her mouth as if to say something, then quickly shut it again. “I don’t know what I am. I need some time.”
She didn’t wait for me to respond. She left in the same manner David had without even a backward glance. I sat alone wondering what I was going to do.
How had this happened? What about my life? My plan? Things weren’t supposed to go this way. It wasn’t right. I didn’t live my life like some people did by letting things happen to them
naturally. I planned for the future, diligently prepared for it, and made things happen the way I wanted them to. I liked things to go a certain way—structure, routine, and predictability. Whereas those things drove some people crazy, they contained me and made me feel like things were within my control. There was nothing more I hated than feeling like I was out of control.
That Night threatened to intrude on me again. My stomach convulsed and I rushed into the bathroom, kneeling before the toilet. Nothing came up. I was empty. The cold lid felt good against my forehead.
That Night had changed everything. It had created a shift in the universe that set all of this in motion. Now that the memories had been released, they were going to destroy me. It’d already begun. It was just like it’d been in the days following That Night when images pummeled their way into my consciousness and I had to use every amount of willpower I had to banish them into the far recesses of my mind. It was happening again. I felt the way his hand gripped my neck as he flung me onto the bed and the way the cheap hotel bedspread felt against my cheek. I couldn’t stay in the bathroom. I had to move.
I walked into the hallway as if I was sleepwalking. Nothing felt real. The nurse’s faces wavered in front of my eyes as if they were faraway. The lights were too bright. The voices too loud. There wasn’t enough air to breathe and for a minute, I thought I might pass out on the tiles. I steadied myself against the wall before walking back into Rori’s room. David had his chair pulled up next to her bed as if he was standing guard. I started to cry again at the sight of them.
“Don’t you dare cry,” he said through gritted teeth. “Don’t you dare.”
I couldn’t help it. His words only made me cry harder. I collapsed in the chair next to him and tried to stifle my ragged sobs. It sounded like I was choking. David didn’t even look at me. The tension was so thick I couldn’t breathe.
“I don’t know what to do to make this better,” I said.
“I want you to leave. I can’t be here with you.”
“David, what? I can’t leave. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Yes, you are. I can’t be here with you and we both know who Rori would rather have sitting next to her.”
I recoiled as if he’d slapped me. I brought my hand up to my face as if he’d left a mark. “That’s so mean.”
He jumped up from his chair, pointed at the door, and with spit flying out of his mouth, yelled, “Mean! I’m mean? You’ve got to be kidding me. Get out now. I’m serious. I can’t even stand to look at you. I don’t want you near me. Ever again.”
I stood, my knees wobbly. This was really happening. I reached for him, trying to pull him close to me. He jerked his arm away.
“Don’t touch me, Celeste. I swear to God, don’t touch me.” His face was bright red and his entire body shook.
I put my arms down by my side in defeat and hung my head. “Okay, I’ll go.” I walked over and planted a kiss on Rori’s forehead.
I trudged back down the hallway feeling all the nurses’ eyes boring into my back. I could hear their thoughts—whore. I was practically running by the time I reached the doors. I shoved through the glass and the light hit my eyes. The sun shone brightly and birds were chirping. It seemed like a cruel joke.
I sat in my car with my hands shaking and a lump of clay rolling around in my gut. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t go home. I thought about going to Robins, but I wasn’t welcome there either. I considered going back inside and begging David to listen to me, but decided against it. I couldn’t handle another rejection from him. It felt like my heart was being ripped from my chest. David was a part of me. I couldn’t live without him.
I beat my hands on the steering wheel.
“No! No! No!”
There was no way I’d live through this. I wanted to tear my skin off my body, anything to stop the agony swirling inside me. I was on the verge of hyperventilating. I put the car in drive and almost drove through the parking gate. I slammed on the brakes, flinging myself forward. I rolled the window down, realizing I’d forgotten the hospital keycard they gave all the long-term patients so they didn’t have to pay for parking every day. I buzzed the parking attendant. She opened her window. I couldn’t imagine what I looked like, but today I didn’t care. Nothing mattered. “I need to leave and I forgot my keycard.”
She looked me up and down, taking in my disheveled state. Her eyes filled with pity. “It happens. Rough day?”
I nodded.
“What’s the patient’s name and room number?”
“Rori. Aurora Reynolds. She’s in room 429.”
“Which ward?”
“Pediatrics.”
“Oh.” She looked away. People didn’t like hearing about sick kids even people in the hospital. “I’ll take care of it. Don’t you worry.”
The gate went up and I headed through, anxious to get away from her pitying stare. I kept the windows down, gulping in the air, trying to get it into my lungs. I wanted to put my foot on the pedal and drive as fast as I could, but rush hour was just beginning. Cars were crawling and they’d only move slower as the hour progressed.
I headed north toward Sunset Boulevard inching up the hill on La Cienega. My brain was racing, but the world was moving in slow motion which only made it spin faster. My mind only worked when there was something to hold on to. I could handle anything as long there was a solution. Sometimes it took a while to find it, but I always could. Once I did, my brain latched on to it and held tight. I didn’t allow my thoughts to wander left or right. I clutched the solution, but there wasn’t a solution to this. None. Without it, my brain spun as if it was on a broken merry-go-round and I could get flung off at any time. I was circling the drain of an empty pit.
Part of me wanted to stop the car, jump out and start running as fast as I could. It took everything I had to keep inching forward. I went east at the light and headed toward Hollywood, a part of town I always avoided. Unlike the images on TV and in the movies, Hollywood was dirty, covered in filth, and littered with broken dreams. It wasn’t long before I arrived at the circus life of Hollywood Boulevard. The Boulevard was writhing with people no matter what time of day it was and today wasn’t any different. Throngs of tourists crowded the sidewalk, spilling out onto the streets, flashing their smiles and holding up selfie sticks. Every few feet someone offered free tickets or a tour of the city with the slickness of a used car salesman. Bright young hopefuls pushed their way through hoping to get discovered. What they didn’t know was that the Boulevard wasn’t where you went to make it—it’s where you went to die.
I reached the end that culminated on Hollywood and Highland where the dinosaur from Ripley’s Believe it or Not museum hung above the street threatening to devour me alive. I felt the panic and hysteria rising again and willed myself not to cry. I needed something, anything to make my head stop swirling and my emotions reeling. I drove a few more blocks and pulled into the parking lot of a liquor store with only half its neon lights blinking.
I needed a drink even though I didn’t like to drink anything except a few glasses of wine. I was careful about drinking because I’d seen how it stole Rachel’s life. I’d only been drunk a handful of times and only because I’d crossed over the line without knowing it. I liked having a few social drinks over dinner or at an event, but always stuck to wine even during college. Robin teased me about my inability to handle alcohol and how I stopped drinking whenever I started feeling the effects.
“What’s the point?” she’d always ask.
“I don’t like feeling out of control.”
But today was different. I wanted to get obliterated. I skipped the rows of wine and went straight to the hard stuff. I grabbed the first bottle of vodka I saw, not caring what brand it was. I didn’t know the difference between a good brand and a bad one anyway. I quickly paid and headed back to my car with my bottle in a brown paper bag. I locked myself in, tore open the bag, and pulled the wrapper from around the cap. I was driven by something I’d
never felt before.
I gripped the bottleneck and took a huge gulp. It tasted like antiseptic and burned all the way down as if I’d swallowed fire. Radiating heat landed in my stomach and moved throughout the rest of my body in waves. My eyes watered. I took another big pull and another, feeling the sting of the alcohol on the walls of my throat, coating my insides. After the initial shock to my system, dead calm set in as if I’d been shot with Novocain. It was exactly what I needed.
I drove on aimlessly, drinking in the open at red lights, not caring if anyone saw me or I got pulled over. What would it matter if I got a DUI? I deserved to be locked up. I’d committed a crime—an irreparable crime. I needed to be punished because I was a horrible person. There was no more denying it. I was more than just a terrible mother. I was a terrible person too.
The images of David and Phil swerved in front of me again making it difficult to focus on the road. The stoplights were fuzzy and blurring. Suddenly, everything was moving quickly and I was moving too slow to keep up. I was having a tough time staying in my lane. I was going to have to stop driving or I was going to crash. I didn’t want to hurt anyone. I’d already hurt enough people.
I pulled into the parking lot of a shabby, run down motel. It was one of the many dingy pay-by-the-hour motels in Hollywood that were cluttered with homeless people and prostitutes. It was the type of motel I’d never consider staying in, but it was perfect for me now. It was dirty and gross just like my insides.
Missing Parts Page 9
