Cara hung the phone up without saying good-bye. She didn’t have to; Jack had hung up first, clicking his cell phone closed with a harsh snap.
“I suggest you send Katie’s stuff up to the city and take a little vacation.”
Venom burned in the back of Cara’s throat.
Let Mel take her, she finally said to herself in exhaustion. She was weary, frightened and alone, and spent from packing. She’d arranged everything she thought Katie would want, everything she could possibly fit into the two suitcases that were propped open on the floor of Katie’s room. She pulled back the covers and crawled under the sheet and blankets on Katie’s bed, pulling herself tightly into a ball and rolling her body toward the wall. She shut her eyes tightly to the world around her. The scent of her daughter was on her everywhere, mixed with that of the Tide detergent she used to religiously wash Katie’s sheets once a week. Everything felt unsteady, unsure. The room spun as if she was drunk, leaving her disoriented.
When she’d had enough, she got up and stripped the bed of all its linens. She removed the sheets and blankets, the comforter and mattress cover, and rolled them into a giant ball, heaving them into the hall outside Katie’s room. She opened the windows wide, letting the strong afternoon breeze push against the screen and blow the curtains freely, wildly. Later she would come back with two large garbage bags, the vacuum, and a new bottle of Pledge and scrub the room clean, but for now she wanted nothing more than to let the wind whip through the room, the force of oxygen, plentiful and abundant, to rush against the walls, through the carpet, over the furniture.
On Mel’s doorstep, Cara set Katie’s suitcases one right next to the other. On top of these she placed Katie’s pillow and a coat that would have been horribly wrinkled if it had been folded and stuffed into one of the bags. Cara had no intention of staying and so she stood on the third step down from the top, keys in hand, and double-parked in the street, ready to wave quickly and bolt. She was just there to drop off Katie’s things; she didn’t want to have to look at her daughter and realize she had failed her.
Mel answered the door to the flat, took one look at the bags, then at her friend who was ready to sprint, before she put her hands on her hips and said to her, “Cara, get your ass in here, you just can’t drop all of this stuff off here and leave.” Melanie stepped outside. She was thin and tall in jeans and a tank top, the bones of her angular shoulders jetting out from beneath the cotton shirt. She was in the middle of shooting a back-to-school fashion spot for a kids’ store and from the studio below Cara could make out the sounds of children’s whiny voices, clients with expectations that weren’t being met.
“You’re shooting; I don’t want to stay.”
“I’ll take a break. Look, Katie’s not here right now,” Mel told her. “You can come in without seeing her.”
“No. It’s fine, Mel. She can stay with you for a while. Just promise me you’ll keep her on her program, okay? Just promise me that.” Cara’s voice cracked then, to think of her daughter here in the flat with Mel, smiling, maybe, for the first time in a long time. Katie’s words echoed in her head, “I won’t come home. I can’t do it anymore.”
“She’s at a meeting now, Cara. Bella took her.”
Cara cleared her throat, trying to gain her composure. “Well then, see. You’re off to a good start, Melanie.” She took the bottom two steps then, leaving Mel still standing alone in front of the open door amid the pile of luggage she had so carefully, so meticulously packed. “Tell her she can call me anytime she wants. You know, if she wants to talk to me.”
“You can’t just go, Cara. Please?”
From the street, Cara shook her head and swallowed back the inadequacy that she felt. She had failed with her daughter, time and time again. She was leaving the mothering to someone else, someone who’d been raised, even, without a mother.
It wasn’t like Mel to get emotional, but just the sight of her very best friend had left her feeling sentimental. “You can’t just leave her without some sort of plan to see her soon. It’s important, you know. It’s important that she knows she has your support. It’s the only way she’ll come home again.”
Cara turned to face her then, standing on the street with her glasses pushed up on her head. She felt disheveled and disoriented, unaware of how she had made it here, how she could have possibly gotten to this point. The wind whipped at her hair, and stung her cheeks. She hadn’t thought about Katie coming home, about what it would take for Katie to want to be with her again. She had only considered what it felt to lose her, how letting her go had a sense of physical pain for her.
“Cara,” Mel said again, her voice changed this time, less authoritative. “She will come home. You do know that, don’t you? She’ll be back, I promise.”
Mel had poured out every last drop of alcohol in her house, drained every bottle and emptied the entire top shelf of her bar. She had toted a case of beer and two large crates of wine next door to her neighbor’s house. She threw out the olives, the cherries, the limes and the mixed nuts for fear that any of these might spark something in Katie that would make her want to take a drink.
The stench of the liquor running down her kitchen sink made her queasy and restless and reminded her of unpleasant days with Dermott.
When she was finished she sat Katie down and spoke to her calmly.
“There’s one rule, Kate, that’s it.”
“Okay.”
“No drinking.”
Katie stared at her, not sure what to make of Mel’s point. It was pretty obvious, wasn’t it? “Okay.” She brushed by the warning as if it was a passing comment.
“There are no substitutions to this rule. No grace period, no warnings, no second chances. There is no drinking in my house or anywhere else while you are living in my house.”
“All right, Mel, I get it.”
“You are done drinking. I know you might want to drink. I know you might think that it’s okay to slip up because I’ll be there to catch you and I’ll understand that you needed to drink. I know you think that I’ll support you. And I will. But I won’t let you live here. And I won’t take you home to your mother or your father, either.”
Katie looked away, embarrassed. She hadn’t expected a lecture from Mel. Mel had always treated her like an adult. Mel had never addressed her from her soapbox, speaking to her in a tone similar to one Katie might have heard from her mother.
“I will call your probation officer and I will turn you in. I will tell him that you have been drinking and driving and causing undue harm to yourself and to those around you. I will recommend they put you back in a lockdown program. And I won’t see you again until you can look me in the eye and tell me you are sober.”
Katie was wordless then, tears welling up in the bottom of her heavy lids. She swallowed hard and nodded her head.
So far, three weeks in, Katie had kept her end of the bargain.
20
Garin left a voice mail on Cara’s cell phone; his voice was strong and confident and it surprised Cara to hear from him.
“Hello, Cara, it’s Garin.”
He stopped and took a breath. She could hear him exhale deeply into the receiver as if he was searching for the right words.
“Look, I know you don’t see eye to eye with the way Melanie and I have been living our lives, and I guess in your position, I can understand that, as much as Mel would kill me for saying so. But look, Cara, I need your help. Mel needs your help. Her father has passed on. Dermott, I mean. He died the night before last. Mel’s mother called to let her know and, um, well, quite honestly, Cara, she hasn’t been the same since.
Look, I can’t get there right now. It’s nearly impossible. I’ve got a number of family obligations that I need to deal with and it’s just not in the cards. Besides, I’m not entirely sure that I’m the one who could help Melanie through this, anyway. But she needs you. She needs you and Leah and Paige more than ever. From this distance I can’t really tell what kind of shape
she’s in but it doesn’t look very good. She’s crumbled, and, well, frankly, I don’t know what to do to help her. Not from here, anyway.
Look, Katie gave me your number. I know she’s staying with Mel right now and I’m sure that’s been really, really hard for you. If nothing else, you should probably check on Katie and just make sure she’s okay. Mel’s not really in any kind of shape to be making sure that she doesn’t slip up or anything.
Can you call me, Cara? I need to confirm that you’ve received this message. I need to know that you’ll reach out to her. That’s all I’m asking, Cara, is that you reach out to her.”
Cara slowed the car, then stopped it altogether in the deserted parking lot of an old grocery store and turned off the engine. Kids on bikes and skateboards raced around her car, using the lot as a makeshift course. She played the message again, listening to the tone of Garin’s voice, the rise and fall of his breath coupled with panic.
He’d had the good sense to call, to reach out to Cara. For Mel, of course. But also for Katie. And for that she was eternally grateful.
Dermott gone, after all these years. Melanie hadn’t heard from him, not after he’d finally left town. And for all their history, Cara and Paige and Leah had finally just stopped asking. As far as they knew, he’d been gone for a long, long time.
But this was official word. And from Bea. Melanie would be in no shape to take care of Katie. Hell, Melanie would be in no shape to take care of herself. Mel hadn’t heard from Bea in years, not at least that Cara was aware of. She couldn’t imagine what it must have been like, that phone call.
Dermott gone.
Cara drove to the city on automatic pilot, watching the sun transition through the fog and dance on the shimmering bay. At Mel’s flat, she stood on the sidewalk and stared at the building, remembering the anger and hurt that had consumed her the day she walked out Mel’s front door and down the steps and into the street, fury sweeping over her.
Katie answered the door, dressed in jeans and a crisp white shirt, as clean and clear-eyed as Cara remembered seeing her in a long time.
“Garin called. He told me about Dermott.”
“She’s in her bedroom, Mom. She went in there yesterday afternoon around four, just after her mom called. And she hasn’t been out since. Bella came last night and we both tried to get her to eat something or get up or even talk to us, but she’s just in there lying on the bed or sitting in the chair in the corner staring off into space. It’s like she’s a zombie or something. I don’t get it. It’s not like she was even close to her mom and dad so it’s kinda weird that she would have such a strong reaction about the whole thing. Isabella’s really, really worried.”
“Where’s Bella now?”
“She had to go to work. She didn’t want to leave, but I told her I would keep an eye on Mel. But she’s starting to freak me out, Mom. She just sits there and stares off into space, just kind of glassy-eyed and not at all with it. It’s like she doesn’t even know I’m there. I’ve never seen her like this. Mel’s always so full of life, so sure of everything.”
Cara placed her purse and jacket on the bench in the hall and started to take the stairs to Mel’s room. “Would you make me some tea, Katie? Strong and hot and black.”
Cara knocked softly on Mel’s door before opening it. Inside, the room was dark, the blackout shades drawn until they touched the edge of the windowsill. Cara waited for her eyes to adjust and searched the room for her friend, leaving the door cracked to let in the light from the hall.
Melanie sat in the corner chair, her knees pulled up to her chin and her head buried in her arms. Her hair was loose and fell around her shoulders in long sheets. She looked to be very uncomfortable but she never moved when Cara entered the room, never looked up to see who it was. She wasn’t crying, but she sat very, very still.
“Mel?” Cara whispered, because whispering seemed more appropriate. “Mel, honey?” She went to her and draped her arm around Mel’s back. “Come on, sweetie, you can’t sit in here by yourself all day.”
They sat together for a few minutes, getting used to each other again. It had been a long time since Cara had been this close to Mel, close enough to hold her tightly, close enough to feel her breathing. The room was dark and quiet and cool. The duvet had been turned down and folded neatly at the end of the bed, but the sheets and blanket remained untouched as if Mel had had every intention of getting into bed but never quite made it. Cara rubbed her back and shoulders, encouraging her over and over again until she finally uncurled herself and stretched, turning instead to lay her head down in Cara’s lap.
“He’s gone, Mel. He can’t hurt you anymore.”
“I don’t get it, Mom. Mel hated Dermott. She never talked about him. And I’ve never really heard her talk about her mother, either.” Katie had made the tea as her mother had requested and was waiting for her in the kitchen.
“Lotta history, Katie. Long before your time, a really, really long time ago.”
“Will she be okay? I mean, really okay?”
“Eventually.”
Cara took the tray and started up the stairs again, her legs heavy and slow. She stopped, turning to address her daughter. “Katie?”
“Yeah?”
“I just want you to know you can come home, you know, whenever you’re ready. I know that it’s important for you to be here right now, that you feel like this is the place where you can be at peace with your treatment and make some good progress. And, well, from the looks of it, I’d say you’re doing fairly well at that. But when the time’s right, well, I just wanted you to know that you can come home. I’ll be there. I’ll be there waiting for you.”
Katie blinked back tears that burned at her eyes. “Okay,” she replied softly, almost a whisper.
“Okay,” Cara answered her.
Melanie had been sleeping for a couple of hours, fighting the demons that crept through her dreams. Cara sat in the chair near the bed thinking about the time that had passed between them, the silly argument that had left them each on one side or the other.
“What time is it?” Mel asked her, blinking her eyes awake slowly.
“Nearly two.”
“Katie will be leaving for her meeting soon. She likes to go on Sunday afternoons. She says there’s more redemption at AA than at the Vatican.”
They made their way down the stairs together, leaning on each other like women far older than they were. Katie had scrawled a note and was just leaving, collecting her things and huddling them together in her daypack.
“Remember what I told you, Katie. When you’re ready, okay? Whenever you’re ready to come home, I’ll be there,” Cara told her and then pulled her tight against her chest, her arms wrapped around Katie’s tiny back. She felt Katie give in to the embrace, just a little, enough so that Cara knew that her daughter was still in there and that together they had a chance to start over again.
After Katie was gone, Mel moved about the kitchen listlessly, dazed and glassy-eyed. She took two teacups from the cabinet and set them on the countertop but she couldn’t remember why she’d gotten them out. She went to the refrigerator to pull out the milk but only stood in front of the open door staring at the contents, unable to recall her purpose. Finally, Cara took her by the elbow, leading her to a chair and encouraging her to sit down.
After a while Leah arrived, bringing with her strength and courage and perspective. And then Paige, with a Crock-Pot of chili and two dozen oatmeal chocolate chip cookies, still warm and tightly wrapped on a pretty ceramic plate. Mel took one look at the plate of cookies and dissolved into tears, burying her head into the crook of her arm.
“You made all this? For me?” Mel muffled through her elbow.
“I, I didn’t know what else to do, Mel,” Paige answered her. Her body had betrayed her; she was enormous now, deliberate in every move. “Mel, I am so, so sorry.”
Someone had died. It meant that it was practically a holiday in the kitchen for Paige. It didn’t
matter that it was Dermott; she’d have done it no matter who had gone. It was part of her DNA, embedded within the fabric of who she was.
“Oh, Paige,” Mel answered her.
Over steaming tea, Mel recounted the conversation she’d had with Bea in a haze of details that ran in long, run-on monotone sentences.
“Dermott’s been with my mother for the last three years.”
“What?” Leah asked her, disbelief ringing in her tone. “You’re kidding.”
“No. No, I’m not. Three years. She’s been harboring that man for the last three years. He’s been living in her house; she’s been taking care of him all this time. After all of this, after all that he’s done to us, and she took him back. No questions asked.”
“But, but I don’t understand. How could that be? After all this time? Mel, are you sure you understood her correctly?”
“Yeah.” Mel looked at her coldly. “Yeah, I got it. All of it. He went to live with her after he was diagnosed. Chronic pancreatitis. Shocker, I know. I mean the man drank himself through more bottles of Jack Daniels than you’d find at a distillery.”
“And Bea took him back? I can’t believe it,” Cara said simply.
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