by Dylan Allen
“Addie!” Cara calls my name like it’s not the first time she’s said it.
Oh my God. They have been talking while I’ve been staring and not listening. Now everyone is staring at me, including Mr. “I Woke Up Like This”.
One look at his face shows he is grinning at me. I immediately look at Cara, who is grinning too, the bitch. I try to sound as casual as I can when I respond with a chirpy “Yes?”
“I said, this is Louis and Simon. Louis is the ballet’s head set designer and Simon is his best friend.” She points to the Chris Hemsworth look-alike when she says Louis, and to the man of indescribable gorgeousness when she says Simon.
I smile up at both of them.
“Hi, I’m Addie.”
Anthony chimes in loudly, “They already know, Aunty Addie, Cara told them, she called your name three times, but you were staring at that man.” He points at Simon.
Everyone bursts out laughing—everyone except Simon. He is watching me, still smiling, but his eyes are so intent on mine, that I can’t seem to look away from him either. There is an expression in his eyes that is familiar and foreign and it makes me curious. It’s only when Lilly jabs me in the ribs that I realize I am staring—again—and I look away.
Fuck!
I pray for the ground to open up and swallow me whole. I can’t battle the blush I know is spreading like wildfire across my face. “I’m so sorry” I say and quickly try to recover. “I… I thought you looked familiar and was trying to place you.”
Simon flashes his stupidly perfect smile at me, displaying a row of white, straight teeth. “Believe me, we haven’t met.”
“Well, I…” I have no clue what to say. This man has caused my brain to melt. I have no idea what is happening to me, but I feel like I just stuck my fingers in a fucking light socket.
Cara comes to my rescue and fills the awkward silence.
“We’re headed to Green Park and then to Buckingham Palace. What are you fellas up to?”
Louis tells Cara they are headed to Piccadilly Circus for something or the other, but I am too lost in my mortification to even try to pay attention to what they are saying.
They turn to say goodbye and we all shake hands politely, but when Simon shakes my hand, his huge, warm palm engulfing my much smaller one, my whole arm vibrates and I look up at him. When our eyes meet, something in his expression makes me feel like I just stepped off a ledge. Right now, I understand the expression “lost in your eyes” in a way I never have before.
“Nice to meet you, Addie. See you around?” His voice is smooth and deep. His mouth, with an upper lip slightly fuller than the bottom, is no longer smiling, but his eyes are full of mischief and sparkling.
“Yes, sure. Nice to meet you, too.” I say, then snatch my hand back. He winks at me, like we are sharing a secret. Except, I am sure we are not. And I have a feeling he is laughing at me.
As my group turns to continue our walk toward Buckingham Palace, Lilly links her elbow through mine and winks at me. “He was hot, sis… and you were struck stupid,” she says through a chuckle.
I try to disengage my arm, but she holds on tightly. “I was not. I said he looked familiar, I was trying to place him.” Everyone, including my mother, laughs out loud. I roll my eyes at them.
I am sticking to this lie. I know no one believes me, but I don’t care. I have spent the last thirteen years of my life working to get to the place I am at now. I am not chaste, I’ve had lovers, but no one serious and no one who I care to see again. I’ve been on a mission to fulfill those promises. I haven’t had time for distractions and I certainly don’t want to lose my focus now that I’ve finally gotten to where I want to be. I’ve always been very good at keeping people at arm’s length. But, I can tell he would be challenge.
With just one look at Simon a million questions leap to my mind. Who is he? What is his last name? Where is he from? How does he know Louis? All of that sends warning bells clanging through my brain.
This is dangerous. Lingering means feelings, and feelings mean pain when they walk away from you or betray you.
I glance back at my mother who stopped with Anthony to tie his shoe lace. I won’t ever let myself be like her. I am not saying I’ll be alone, but I don’t want to be with anyone who can make me feel like I want to give up everything for him. I don’t want someone whose presence will linger when he is gone.
I catch up with Cara who is walking ahead of us. I shake off the wistfulness threatening to ruin my mood. I’ll probably never see him again anyway.
July 24, 2014
My family is leaving tomorrow and I have very mixed emotions about it. I’ve loved spending time with my sisters. Yet, watching them with my mother, seeing that they have mended what chasms existed in their relationships, makes me feel like an outsider in my family.
My mother and I have tiptoed around each other the entire trip. We’ve been cordial, but not much more than that. Tonight, we are eating at my flat. It’s small, but I’ve got a dining room table that seats six people, and I’ve ordered in some Indian food.
We are talking about the amazing day we’d spent touring Buckingham Palace and gossiping about the Royal family. We are actually having a really nice time.
Anthony fell asleep an hour ago and is tucked into my bed. My Spotify is set to the Feeling Good station and Bill Withers’ “Lovely Day” comes on just as we are finishing up.
My mother leans back in her chair, eyes closed, and says in a dreamy voice I haven’t heard from her since I was a little girl, “Your father loved this song. We used to dance to this in our kitchen when we were first married.”
If she had poured a bucket of ice cold water on my head it wouldn’t have been as chilling as her words.
No one responds, and I glance around the table to find my sisters watching me. As if I was the one who needed watching. My clothes suddenly felt too tight, I can feel tension in my neck and shoulders that hadn’t been there a minute ago.
I have to get out of this room. “I’m going to get more wine.” I stand up and walk into the kitchen.
My hackles rise as I hear a chair scrape back and the fall of feet following me into the kitchen. I steel myself for the coming confrontation.
My mother’s hand reaches out to touch my shoulder. It’s a reflex when I shrug her hand off.
“Addie. Why are you so angry with me? I don’t understand. I tried, so hard once your dad was gone, to give you girls as normal of a life as I could. You treat me like I’ve wronged you. Please, tell me.”
I turn to face her, incensed by her words.
“Normal? What was normal about our lives? Normal would have been a mother who was angry on behalf of her daughters. Daughters who had been wronged and abandoned by their father! Normal would have been a mother who shed one single fucking tear after her husband ruined thousands of lives and left her to face the music alone.”
She inhales sharply. I’ve never cursed in her presence, much less at her. I am breathing hard, trying to force back the emotions my speech has brought to the surface.
“Addie! What in the world are you saying? What are you doing?” Milly is in the kitchen now, standing at our mother’s back, her face a mask of muted rage.
“What Milly? What? Should I not tell the truth? I am angry with her. You and Lilly were gone. You left me alone with her!”
“Addie, we left for college. We didn’t just leave you. Listen, we all struggled when he left. Please, let’s just have a nice final night together,” Milly pleads, the look in her eyes one of desperate imploring.
“You struggled? That’s rich, Milly. You were gone less than a year after we moved. And you are just like her. Married before you could even figure out who you are. You’ve given up your life, too. No wonder you’re defending her!”
My mother grabs the counter as if she can’t stand on her own anymore. My rage is freed now though, and I can’t contain it. I take my eyes, full of fire and pain, off Milly and turn back to my mother.
“Addie…you’re being unfair.” My mother chokes out.
“Don’t talk to me about fair. Don’t talk to me about anything. You made your choice. You gave up your life for him. And even when he left you in total disgrace, you continue to live for him.” I am almost screaming at this point, my finger jabbing the air in her direction.
My mother, who has barely ever raised her voice at me walks up to me and slaps me square across the face.
My hand comes up to cradle my cheek and I stare at her in utter disbelief.
She grabs my chin and looks me square in the eye.
“I do not know who you think you are or who you think I am. But I am your mother and you are my daughter! Respect, Addie, is earned. I, by raising you to be someone who can stand here in London and call yourself a lawyer, have earned the respect of not being spoken to like this!” Her voice is like a hot poker, prodding my heart with every single word. Shame, anger, pain all whirl through me at her words.
She releases my chin, but continues to use her eyes to keep me rooted to the spot.
“On your fifth birthday we gave you that gold fern pendant you wear around your neck now. Do you know what it stands for? It stands for perseverance and determination.”
She shakes her head in dismay.
“You were the most determined baby. You entered the room with your chin facing the world, ready to take it on. We knew you could do anything you set your mind to. We called you Rise for the first three years of your life because there was not a single challenge you didn’t rise to. You could do anything. You weren’t afraid of anything.”
She turns away from me. Her back is bowed as if she is exhausted. Lilly has joined Milly at the kitchen door and they are both staring at my mother, eyes identical pools of surprise. They clearly have never seen this side of her either.
She turned around to face me again and this time, her eyes burn with tears
“You disappoint me, Addie. Yes, your father did a terrible thing. I know he did, Addie! You do not know what I have suffered through. But, I had children who needed me. So, I didn’t let them see me cry. Do you really think I didn’t cry? Yes, I love him. Yes, I still do. I always will. And he is your father. He loved you all so fiercely. I will never believe he left us voluntarily. If that makes me a fool, then I will be a fool. But you, you have crawled into your fear and it is where you live. You have made it your home. You have made it your motivation and your reason, and I am sorry for you.”
“Mommy…” I choke out, my chest constricting as her words cut me to the quick.
“You need to find your courage, Addie, and rise to this challenge before you wake up one day and your whole life is gone. Your dreams will vanish. Your chance to live them will be over.”
For some reason her words, instead of hurting or soothing me, enrage me and I lash out and say words that, in the coming months, I’ll wish countless times I could take back.
“You find yours first, Mommy. You talk to me about courage, but you’re the weakest person I know. My dreams, my chance to live them left when he did. He took a part of you with him when he left and I wish he had just taken all of you! I haven’t had a mother since I was thirteen, so don’t start trying now!”
I rush past all of them and through the blur of my tears I catch the looks of horror and pain on my sisters’ faces as I push past them to grab my keys.
I step out onto the very busy Pentonville Road and make my way toward the trendy Angel neighborhood. This part of North London is so vibrant it practically hums with activity. It is bustling with activity at 8:30 pm. The road is congested with traffic and all you can see for a mile in each direction are cars and the iconic double decker red buses as they fight each other for road space. A few minutes later, I find myself up the street in a Spanish restaurant, sitting at the bar, drinking Sangria by myself.
July 24, 2014
Two hours later, I’ve drowned my sorrows and calmed down. I am ashamed of the way I spoke to my mom. I am horrified, though, at the way I spoke to Milly. It was low of me to hit her when she is obviously struggling with something. I drag myself back to my apartment, I have no idea what to expect when I get there.
When I step through the door, I’m greeted by the sound of Santana’s “Supernatural” blaring from my little Bluetooth speaker. I see Lilly, dancing alone in the middle of my living room. I glance around, and I am pretty sure my mother, Milly, and therefore Anthony, are gone.
I lean against the closed door of my apartment and watch Lilly for a minute. She is such a singular person. She has always seemed unfazed by everything, dancing when the rest of us are too tired or sad to even get out of bed.
Her eyes are closed; she is lost in the music. I hate to disrupt her moment, but I know she stayed behind to talk to me, and I want to get it over with. So I walk over to the speaker to hit the power button.
She stops moving abruptly and spins around on her stocking-clad feet to glare at me.
“Well, aren’t you just a party wrecker today?” She says as she walks over to the couch and plops down in a casual pose that doesn’t fool me for a minute.
Lilly is the brawler of the group. As relaxed and worry free as she is, she is also the one to never walk away from a confrontation. I should have known she would be waiting for me.
“Lil, I am not in the mood. I am tired and tipsy.”
“Well, that’s too bad. I am in the mood and you left me here with Mom and Milly in tears.”
I sigh and sit down next to her.
“I know, I know. I need to apologize.” I lean back and cover my eyes with my arm. I just want to go to sleep.
“You need to do more than apologize, sis. You’ve got to grow up and stop blaming them for your misery. I know you are mad at Mom, and I won’t try to tell you what to do in regards to that. You’ve got to find a way to make peace with her on your own. You can’t live your life angry at your mother. Especially when she loves you so desperately.”
“So, I’m the bad guy, Lillian?” I use her full name unconsciously, but it signals how serious this conversation is. “I’ve been grown up for a long time. I’ve had to navigate my whole life by myself. I learned how to use a tampon by watching it on YouTube. I learned about sex from reading books. I know you guys had a different experience than I did. But it doesn’t mean mine is not valid.”
“I never said it wasn’t, Ad, but you’re an adult now. How long can you blame your mother for your unhappiness?”
I sit up at that.
“I am not unhappy, and I don’t blame her. I just…I don’t know.”
I deflate again, I don’t know what I mean.
“And go easy on Milly, she is having a hard time. She and Kevin are going through something. It’s obvious, right? But you telling her she has given up her life for her man was such a low blow.”
“I know. Oh, God. I am so sorry. I need to call her.” I this comes out in a groan that is muffled by the arm covering my face again.
“Yes, but give her a couple of days. And get your shit together. Life is not roses for any of us, Addie. All of us struggle in our own way.”
I want to balk at the word struggle. Lilly, besides the initial sadness and anger, seemed to move beyond my dad’s leaving faster than all of us. She is a serial monogamist and doesn’t seem to worry about letting men too close. But I’ve heard her say that she doesn’t need marriage to be committed.
Milly got married as soon as she could. You couldn’t call her relationship with Kevin passionate. She told me that she wanted the security of marriage without the blindness of being head over in heels in love. She’d said she loved Kevin, but not in a way that would make her stupid. Wel
l, she seemed to have followed my mother’s footsteps. She didn’t have a career and her son was her entire life.
Lilly pulls me into a bear hug, which is nearly smothering. This is her away. She doesn’t do anything by half measures. “I love you, sissypoo. I want you to be happy. Your dreams aren’t anywhere but inside of you, waiting for you to quit blocking them with your anger.”
And with that, Lilly gets to the heart of the matter. And so I sit, at twenty-six years old, in my big sister’s lap and cry my heart out for the little girl who still thinks her dreams are dead; and for the woman who I’m apparently too stuck in the past to convince her otherwise.
August 4, 2014
London, England
Summer’s swan song is pitiful. The warmth of July caves like a coward to the cool of August. As I begin my commute to work on Monday morning, I pull my jacket’s collar up around my neck to protect myself from the cold.
It’s been a week since my family left, and I’ve only spoken to my sisters once. I talked to Milly and apologized. She accepted my apology really graciously. She even said she understood why I was angry and that she didn’t know if I was entirely wrong. I tried to talk her about Kevin, but she ended the conversation by saying she had another call.
I haven’t spoken to my mother at all. I hate the way we left things. I know that because we haven’t been talking, I’ll be getting call from my FBI Liaison Agent Walker any day now. In exchange for new last names and anonymity, we’ve basically traded our privacy. They monitor everything we do and made it very clear when I moved to London this would not change. So, when we go a long time without talking, they grow suspicious.
It’s ludicrous to think we would be in touch with our father and not let them know. I realize I can’t speak with the same certainty for my sisters or my mother. If I knew where he is, I would turn him in. He ruined our lives and then ran off. I hope wherever he is, he’s broke, cold, and hungry. But, I know he is not. And it brings a familiar sour taste to my mouth.
