“Same.” I grunted, channelling Elliot. The thought made my lips twitch.
Once the patrons of the coffee shop got over two women who'd never sit together by choice, they turned away and went back to their business.
Sarah tottered to one of the more secluded booths at the back, which I knew muffled conversation. Rina and I had tested the acoustics back in high school.
Sarah swept her hand out, as if giving me permission to sit. Which I did. My face must have been a picture though, her queenly act didn’t fool me.
“When's your due date?” I asked, surprising her.
“May 12th,” Her entire body radiated smugness, but I didn’t know why. Anyone could have a baby, but raising it was the hard part. God I was bitter.
I felt like a fool.
“Elliot’s really excited.” She tacked on and watched my reaction.
“I know. He told me all about it.” I took a sip from my coffee and watched her over the rim of my to-go cup.
“We're getting married once my divorce is finalised. The baby will have the Gold surname.” Sarah's word rolled off her tongue with the kind of ease that implied she believed them. I didn’t know if they were true or not.
I didn’t want to incite her so I nodded sedately. “Do you have a picture?” I asked.
Sarah rummaged through her brown leather slouch bag (Prada, of course) and handed over a sonogram. A black and white image of a round head and little stalks looked back at me. My heart clenched in pain. Jealousy. Anger.
I remembered when Mary at the diner had her little boy. Her scan had the words 'Baby Ferris’ on the top, for the mother’s surname, but Sarah’s didn’t have that information. I wondered what she’d told the doctor. Baby Mallory or Baby Gold.
The printout was standard A4 paper. Not the photo finish that Mary's sonogram had.
My eyes narrowed slightly but I made a fake noise of appreciation.
“I bet you're really excited.” I said.
“Cut the shit,” Sarah smiled sweetly. Her tone was so level that if I didn’t see the hatred in her eyes then I would have thought I’d misheard her.
“Excuse me?” I whispered, in disbelief.
“We both know that you think you've gotten your claws into him, you fucking whore.” Sarah lowered her voice to a snarl. “Elliot Gold has been mine for years. I'm not going to roll over and let some drunk's daughter take my man.”
“Elliot is perfectly capable of making his own decisions.” I bristled.
“Not if he's blinded by your cunt.” She snarled.
I flinched away from her harsh words, but found my mind drifting away as my defence mechanism kicked into place. I went numb. The same way that I did when Mama slapped and spat vitriol at me.
“You’ve got nothing to say? Bless your heart. It's no wonder. You’re a few apples short of an orchard. Your Mama must have been drunk when she was pregnant with you. It must be the reason you're so dumb.” Sarah continued to rattle on, incensed by her own words. “You’ll stay away from my Elliot.”
I watched her with cool detachment. Her anger couldn't touch me.
I'd left my body behind.
I stood up without a word, leaving my coffee on the table, unfinished. I turned on my heel and left.
I was halfway down Main Street, pulling out my phone to call Elliot and relay what had happened, when it began to ring. It was an unknown number, but since my number was unlisted, those were rare. I answered.
“Ms. Thompson?” A calming and professional voice asked over the phone. I confirmed my identity.
“I’m really sorry, Ms Thompson, but this is St Mary's Hospital in Baton Rouge. We've got your mother here with us. She's been in an accident.”
18
Thursday came and went without my customary dance at the Pink Sleeve.
I was drowning. Unable to breathe.
Part of me wanted to reach out to Harriet and tell her the truth. The other part of me whispered that she was better off without the clusterfuck that had begun to cocoon my life.
I sat for hours, on Thanksgiving, staring out my window at the shimmering lights of our small town. Wondering if her light was on. Was she awake? Was Harriet Thompson thinking of me as much as I was thinking about her?
My routine on Black Friday involved knocking back fingers of whisky, bourbon or scotch until sleep would come. I woke in the same position, sat upright in my wingback armchair, facing the cool glass of my bay windows. My shirts were wrinkled. Advil, water. Even though it was a holiday, I took a conference call, talking on the phone for hours to secure contracts. I was sick of the sound of my own voice and wanted to sleep. Every thought was about her, and when I fell asleep that night my dreams were about her too.
I was hungover, with bloodshot eyes and hair in all directions when I walked into my kitchen the next day.
Both of my brother’s stood at the kitchen island, drinking my coffee and moving my shit around.
Nate, with his tattooed sleeves and shoulder length black hair, with an expression that looked menacing. Julian was dressed in a tightly fitted suit that I knew he had purchased from a Korean designer, because he’d waxed about the stitching for months once he had found a suit that would fit his unique frame.
“What the fuck do you two want?” I asked without looking at them. I walked over to my liquor cabinet, which my housekeeper Marie restocked. I pulled it open and my fingers wrapped around the first bottle in my line of sight.
Julian’s lips twitched in disapproval. Nate walked over to a cupboard and pulled out three glasses, as if I was going to share. With a sigh, I unscrewed the lid and poured a measure in each glass. Topping off my own until I wouldn’t have been able to walk with the glass without spilling the liquid inside. I tipped the burning liquor down my throat with a hiss and slammed the heavy crystal onto the counter.
Nate slid into a barstool, opposite me, whilst Julian crossed his arms over his chest in disapproval.
“You’ve switched.” I pointed out jovially.
Both of my brother’s look at me in question.
I pointed to Julian. “You should be sitting and making yourself at home like an ass.” I grabbed the bottle and used it to point to Nate. “And you should be standing around like a threatening bouncer.”
Neither of them said anything in response.
“Did you swap bodies?” I sang, as the alcoholic buzz settled into my veins.
Julian stepped forward, grabbing the glass that had been poured just for him. He tipped the liquid down the sink, as if it was water instead of five-hundred-dollar scotch.
“For fuck sake, Elliot.” Julian snarled. “Talk to us.”
“Where do you want me to start?” I replied tartly.
“Sarah Mallory would be a good place.” Nate said with a face like thunder.
I snorted and poured myself another glass of liquor. Julian leant forward and stole it out from under my nose.
“I knocked her up.” I laughed hysterically. My eyes unfocused and dazed.
“I didn’t know you were seeing each other.” Nate’s voice was crisp but accusing. “Fuckin’ hell, Elliot.”
“She was his date for the masquerade.” Julian supplied. His eyes were like ice chips boring into mine.
“We’d fuck when I came to town.” I told them both. “It was nothing.”
“It wasn’t nothing if you weren’t using protection.” Julian’s gaze was unwavering.
“We hadn’t seen each other in a year.” I slumped down in my chair. “I can’t… I can’t…” My voice had broken without intention as the overwhelming helplessness of my situation filled me. I didn’t have the kind of relationship with my brothers where I could tell them what was going through my mind.
Julian and Nate were close as brothers could be, having never left Goldryn Bois. I was the heir. The New York businessman that had left the town behind for money. I was the outsider amongst my siblings.
I looked up when I felt Nate’s hand on my shoulder.
<
br /> “Just tell us, man.” He urged. “We’re here for you.”
“I think she drugged me, Nate.” My voice was hoarse and I clenched my fists until my knuckles turned white. “I’m such a goddamn idiot.”
Julian stepped forward. “She drugged you?”
“I had no idea what I was doing,” I told them. “I woke up and I was in bed and then three months later she turned up with a sonogram.”
I reached into my pocket and took out the dog-eared picture of my unborn child. Julian held his hand out and I handed it to him.
“When I asked about the 'Sarah Situation', I thought you were just sore after finding out when was married. I had no idea what you were dealing with in actuality.” Julian admitted.
Julian clicked his tongue to the roof of his mouth, and rubbed the paper in between his fingers. His eyes narrowed. “Have you gone to any of her appointments?”
I shook my head. “I don’t want to be around her.” I admitted. “She makes me fucking sick.”
“What does Harry say about all of this?” Julian asked.
“She has no fucking clue, man.” I pushed my fingers through my hair and gripped it at the roots. “We’ve been dating, what? A month? You can't just throw shit like that at a girl. What if she doesn’t believe me?”
“I know Harry. You should tell her.” Julian rolled the tumbler between his palms.
“Of course, you know her.” I snarled. “You pay her to get naked!”
Nate held up his hands in a disarming motion. “Whoa. What’s going on here?”
“His new girlfriend is a stripper at the Pink Sleeve.” Julian informed him.
Nate snorted and shook his head. “Fucks sake Elliot.”
“Harry’s a good girl.” I snarled.
“She just takes her clothes off for money, yeah?” Nate laughed haughtily.
“Julian, fucking tell him!” I growled.
Julian shook his head at both of us. “Nate, lay off man.”
Nate held his hands up, as to show he was unarmed. “You guys rip the piss out of me for all sorts of things. That’s what brothers do. What’s mom going to say?”
Julian smirked. “He brought Harry to Thanksgiving Eve dinner.”
“No shit.” Nate whistled through his teeth in appreciation.
“And get this little bro…” Julian whispered, as if letting our tattooed brother in on a secret. “She loved her.”
I received a text from Harry about midday on black Friday and fear stopped me from picking up my phone and checking it.
I could almost imagine her words shining back at me. Distancing herself.
Harry was a gentle soul, who abhorred cursing for any nature. Every time I tried to think of how she'd react verbally to the Sarah Situation, I couldn’t think of the words that she would use.
I waited all day for her message but I was too damn chicken to read it when it came through.
I had stayed in with Julian. He’d brought video games and a console. Julian thrived on junk food, but I tried to eat healthily. My face cringed when he had arrived at my doorstep with arms full of twinkies and chips.
“Do you know what a vegetable is?” I asked.
“I think I read about them in a book once.” Julian smirked and tossed a Cheeto into his mouth. He made a show of licking the orange dust from his fingers like a cartoon chef. “Besides, I can't have this stuff in the house. Rina's worse than me.”
I snorted a laugh. “I doubt that.”
“No. Trust me.” He shook his head. “When she was PMSing, I legit had to throw a chocolate bar through the crack in the doorway to distract the beast.”
“Harry told me about that.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “She said you threw a chocolate bar at Rina's head when she asked you why you'd left a wet towel on the bed.” I shook my head and waggled my finger. “You’ve got a lot to learn. Just because a woman uses an angry voice, it doesn’t mean she's PMSing.”
Julian shrugged. “I panicked. It’s so weird having a girl's stuff at my apartment.”
“She’s going to be your wife soon.” I reminded him. “I still can’t believe it.”
His phone began to ring as evening set in, he paused Madden and I opened a bag of Doritos. Enjoying the first junk food I’d allowed myself to eat in ten years.
“Slow down, Rina, baby. What happened?” Julian said. “Is Harry okay?”
My chips dropped to the floor and it took all my strength not to rip his phone from his hands. I took out my own phone and ignored the heavy feeling in my stomach.
Need to go to Baton Rouge. Can you help?
My mama is in hospital.
Harriet had obviously turned to Rina when I hadn’t responded. But didn’t that make me feel like shit. I was such a coward.
The worst part? I knew that Harry would forgive me. It probably didn’t even occur to her to feel mad that I’d ignored her in her time of need. She didn’t expect anything from me.
But I’d failed her.
I stood up and grabbed my suit jacket, palming my car keys as I strode to the door.
“Where are you going?” Julian asked, holding the phone away from his head.
“To support my girl. You coming?”
I wondered why Harriet's mother would be at St Mary's in Baton Rouge rather than the much more local Gracious Heart just outside of Franklin. The journey to the hospital was two hours, but speeding knocked off a good half an hour. When we arrived at the hospital, Julian greeted Rina. I insisted that he take her home in her car.
I found Harry outside of a room in the ICU but she didn’t seem to be crying. Her whisky eyes stared blankly ahead, studying one of the generic paintings on the wall.
I had stopped off at the canteen to get her a coffee. Black without any fixings, just as she liked it. I nudged her shoulder with the lukewarm cup and she jumped out of her skin.
“Elliot.” She said my name without any inflection. Her eyes were drawn back to the painting. “That pear...” She gestured to the picture. “I’ve never seen a purple pear before.”
“That’s a fig.” I turned and squinted at the image. “I think?”
She took the coffee cup from my hands and cradled it for warmth.
I sat down on the uncomfortable plastic chair by her side.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
Harriet shrugged but didn’t meet my eyes. “She was in a car accident. Needs pins in her leg. She's done something to her liver. Mama likes to drink. I think she'd have been fine if she didn’t... But... Something’s wrong. They think she'll need a transplant.”
Her voice remained clear and even throughout her description of the event.
“That’s why she’s in the ICU. Mama’s on dialysis.”
“Is she on the transplant list?” I asked.
“She’s an alcoholic. So no.” Harry snapped. Her tone was bitter and jaded. Not at all like the soft, but snarky girl that I knew. I reached forward and put my hand over hers.
“Am I a bad person, Elliot?” She whispered. Her chin met her chest and her shoulders began to shake. I gripped her tightly, unable to do anything but hold her. The same way that she had held me when I had told her about Sarah.
“You’re not, Harry.” I said adamantly.
“I just keep thinking, why should I give her a piece of my liver? Why? That woman has made my life hell.”
Harry looked up as if she'd been broken from a trance. Her eyes were wide. She looked like a cornered animal and it broke my heart. She'd stood up and looked like she wanted to bolt. “That woman doesn’t deserve the title of mother.” Harriet whispered. “She doesn’t deserve it.”
Just then, a nurse came around the corner and took in the scene. She handed Harriet a clipboard and invited her to sit back down. The nurse went over the consent forms for the compatibility tests but I couldn’t hear anything. I watched Harriet as she retreated into her own mind. Signing forms as if she was on autopilot.
I could taste metal at the back of my throat. I
wanted to help her but I couldn’t. Harry had been hurt by her mother. I didn’t know the extent but I wanted to so that I could soak in every detail of her life and immerse myself in it. The good. The bad. All of it.
I breathed in through my nose and out through my mouth, focusing on the motion to help the red haze that had taken over my vision. To recede.
“I’m so sorry for not telling you about Sarah.” I whispered. If Harry heard me, she ignored my words. Which was just as well.
By the time I came back to earth, Harry had dealt with the nurse. She had her head in her hands but wasn’t making a sound.
I wanted to touch her but found my hand flinching back at the last minute.
“You’re going to do the test, because you'll hate yourself if you don’t.” I told her. Hoping that my words were wise and supportive. “Then we'll go back to town and you'll stay at my place. There's no point sleeping in an uncomfortable chair whilst your mom is unconscious anyway. We'll come back in the morning, and you can decide what you want to do then.” I said.
I held out my hand, and after a second, Harriet placed her delicate fingers in mine and we walked away.
20
I'd never been to Elliot Gold’s house on Goldryn Row, but I could have been heading towards Disney World and it wouldn’t have made a difference. I'd slotted away my pain, the same way that I did when I prepared for Mama’s fists. I numbed myself after my outburst at Elliot in the ICU.
Elliot stopped off at Sonic on the 603 and picked up a milkshake and a burger. I hadn’t had Sonic since my Pop was alive. The memory assaulted me and tears leaked out without a sound.
I got the Holiday mint, because December had snuck on me without warning. Elliot got banana cream pie. I didn’t know what that said about his personality.
I had always wanted to be one of those skating ladies when I was a little girl.
“You gotta tell me what about your Mama, Harry.” Elliot said as I watched my milkshake like it had the answers to the universe. “I’m going crazy here.”
I slurped the straw and almost wished that we had pulled up outside of my apartment block because it meant that I would have been able to run away from the conversation. Elliot got out of the car and walked around to my side to help me out of the vehicle.
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