Just Jada
Page 11
Dad's hand floated up, searching for mine. I gave it to him.
"I want you to go to New York City and win that award and show the world how special you are."
I shook my head slowly. There was no way I could do that. Not now. "I'm going to remove my name from contention. It'll be too distracting."
Jada would be a distraction, too, when I needed to spend all my time focusing on how I would care for Dad and pay for his surgeries.
"No," he said,
"What?"
"No, you're not."
"Yes, I am."
"You know, you get your stubborn streak from me, and I'm much older so I can out-stubborn you any day. If you don't live, neither of us will, do you understand?"
"I can't leave you."
"On that floor..." He swallowed and took in another labored breath. "I saw our life together. We've had some good times... and some hard times."
"Yeah, everybody—"
"Let me speak." Dad's hand lifted weakly. "I saw how you sacrificed so much for me. How you even convinced yourself you enjoyed it. I can't live like that anymore."
I shook my head, unable to speak under the surfacing emotions.
"I'm evicting you, E."
"You can't do that."
"I own the house. It's not yours. The next time you visit, I need you to tell me something good."
He drifted off. He didn't know what he was saying. He wouldn't remember it the next day.
My phone rang with a number I didn't recognize. I answered, leaving the room and stepping into the busy hall.
"Erika? This is Dr. McNabb from the New York Mental Health Organization. I wanted to touch base with you about the emails you wrote us."
"Can you hold on a second?"
"Sure."
I covered the speaker with my hand and wound my way down the hallway until I reached a nook free of people and hospital noise. The conversation with Dad fresh in my mind, I brought the phone back up to my ear. "Hi, sorry, I was in a crowded place."
"Is this a bad time?"
"No, well, truthfully... I'm at the hospital. My father just had a heart attack."
"I'm so sorry," Dr. McNabb said, getting through the apology as fast as he could. "That must be horrible for you."
"It is. Which is why..." I took in a breath and let it out. "Which is why I have to pull out of the running for the Calver. It's just too much right now."
"I'm sorry to hear that. Your work is truly ground-breaking."
"I'm hoping to get back to it someday, but right now, my Dad's health his more important than anything else."
"Yes... Yes. Okay, well, good luck, I suppose."
"What was the other thing you were going to tell me? About the emails?"
"It doesn't matter now."
"Okay."
"Okay."
"Bye."
I held the phone to my chest. Had I made the right decision? So soon after Dad made me promise to live?
Of course I had. He wouldn't have to know. My phone vibrated before I could slip it back into my pocket. It was a text from Jada.
Sorry had to leave. Will call soon. xoxo, J.
...
JADA
Dad had left me in peace for one day, and one day only, and I'd slept for most of it. The rest of time I'd spent composing texts to Erika. They all started with "I'm sorry" and ended with "forgive me" and none of them seemed quite right.
I woke to a text from my father.
Come to McNabb's house. Now.
Did this mean it was time for my interview? Or had my father done something to sabotage Erika? I wouldn't know until I went. On my way, I ran scenarios in my head. What I would do if this was my interview. What I would do if my father had exposed some of Erika's past. What I would do if those past things were things I didn't know about.
As I arrived at Dr. McNabb's stoop, I flashed to the day I had brought Amalia here. Gosh, there was another person I needed to apologize to. People, actually. I'd ignored all the emails from the Latina Achievement Program since I'd joined. I had to be better.
But first, I had to get through this.
I rapped on the door.
Mrs. McNabb answered, her face a study in placidity. "Dr. Garcia, come in. They're in the den waiting for you."
It was fifteen minutes before we were set to meet but of course my father was already there. Hadn't he been the one to teach me to always arrive well before your meeting to retain control? It was something I'd used on Erika for our first date. One of the many shitty tricks from a Jada that seemed so far from me that it was almost like she was a different person.
Mrs. McNabb led me through the lush living room to a set of pocket doors. She pulled them apart and gestured inside.
"Thanks," I said, smiling at her, hoping the moment was enough to make her forget my brusque behavior from the first time we met.
I turned to Dr. McNabb, who struggled to get to his feet. He tottered over to me with stiff knees, his hand outstretched. "I wanted to deliver the news in person, my dear," he said.
"I wanted to see you in person, too," I said, turning my back to my father just as he leaned in to kiss me on the cheek.
"No need. The Calver is yours. WIOT Magazine goes to press in three days and you'll be on the cover."
"Thanks," I said, heat crawling up my chest. This was not what I'd expected. "You didn't interview Erika, did you? Why not?"
Dr. McNabb shrugged. "I didn't have the chance. She pulled out."
"She—what?"
"Her father is ill. She wants to spend time caring for him."
"No—"
"Luisa," my father snapped.
I ignored him. "You must be mistaken. She wouldn't do that. She can't. She has homeless children she wants to work with."
"And you have Latina girls." My father stepped into my view, making it impossible not to look at him if I wanted to have a conversation with Dr. McNabb. He loomed over me. "Don't you stand behind your cause?"
"Of course I do. But, look. She volunteers at a soup kitchen. She is truly the best person I know."
Dr. McNabb raised his eyebrows. "This is unusual. I wouldn't expect you to pump up the competition."
"We're all in the same field, right? She deserves your consideration at the very least." My voice wavered as my father stepped closer. I'd never been afraid of his physicality, but he was just so... big. I stepped back and to the side to make eye contact with Dr. McNabb. I swallowed. Be brave. "I would just ask you to reconsider her application. Maybe she just needs some extra flexibility. Can you push her interview or conduct it over the phone or something?"
Dr. McNabb squinted his eyes. "I suppose we can push it to another day."
"That's all I'm asking." My father's anger was like a storm cloud, dark and energetic. I tried to ignore it. "I want it to be a fair fight."
"The committee can't force her to stay in contention," Dr. McNabb said.
"Let me do the convincing," I said.
"Okay. If you can convince her to come to the city in the next two days, we will consider her again."
I could barely contain my excitement. Then my father grabbed my elbow. "Would you excuse Luisa and I for a moment, Dr. McNabb?"
Dr. McNabb's smile didn't falter as he inclined his head.
My father dragged me out of the room. None of my plans involved standing up to my father, but as he dragged me away, my anger boiled.
"Get your hands off of me," I said, tearing from his grasp as soon as the pocket doors closed behind us.
"Lower your voice," my father hissed, his eyes darker than I'd ever seen them.
"I'm not a child."
"You're acting like one."
"Actually, I don't think I am. All I did was ask for a fair fight. I think that's very adult of me." I lifted my chin.
My father paced in front of the baby grand piano. "You're going to go back in there and fix this."
"And what? Tell him I was wrong? That I deserve to win after all?"
My father stopped. His shoulders pulled back. "You'll tell him about Erika's little adventure in the pool."
"No. No way."
"Luisa."
"Don't call me that." The hold on my anger broke. "You tried to mold me into this little replica of you. Well, guess what? I don't like you very much. You're a horrible, horrible person. You trick everyone around you into thinking you're wonderful, but you're not."
My father paused. "Are you done?"
"No. It's always about you and how you—"
"Sweetie, I would love to unpack this with you, but I've got a lot on my plate right now, so you need to shut up and listen. You're going to go back in there and tell him all the things you've found out about the little forest girl. That she broke into a pool. That she dropped out of school."
"No." It was a small word, but one I'd uttered so few times to my father that it actually carried weight.
His face reddened. He stepped so close to me I had to look up to see his eyes. "You will or I'll make you regret it."
"Go ahead," I said, my voice a whisper. "In fact, do whatever you want. I'm leaving now. I'm done playing your games."
I slipped out from between him and the wall and strode toward the door. He caught my arm and ripped me backward so hard I thought my shoulder would shatter. My body turned toward him and his hand found my neck and his thumb pressed my windpipe. "Get in there," he said, shaking me. "And do as I say."
I shook my head. My father was the devil and he was going to kill me. Right here.
"Luisa, are you all right?"
Just like that, my father's hands dropped. "She's fine," he said, his charm fully back in place.
"Luisa. Do you need me to call someone?" Mrs. McNabb asked.
I glanced up into my father's eyes, rubbing my neck in the spot where his thumb had pressed. He had never put his hands on me like that. Ever. Slowly, I turned to the doorway.
Mrs. McNabb's face was a study in concern. In care. She had seen what he had done. I had a witness. I had the power... I would just have to figure out how to use it. The pain from his grip was already fading. "I'm fine, thank you, Mrs. McNabb. I'm going to leave now."
She nodded once and watched as I exited the room and their home. My father didn't follow me.
I walked away, not caring what he had to say. He no longer had control over me. I stood up to him and survived. I'd chosen the right path. Pounds and pounds of stress and anxiety and fear fell off me. The pain from his grip was gone. I searched for fear, for trauma, but found only strength and hope. I actually skipped in the middle of the sidewalk. Just a little hop, but it was enough. I was almost free. Almost.
...
"What the hell did you do?" My sister's voice crackled through the sketchy cell connection as I drove up the Thruway and wound my way up to the Catskills, the mountains closing in around me like a hug.
The leaves were ablaze with color. They were the brightest I'd ever seen. The entire world seemed warmer, more welcoming. And for once, I felt a part of it.
"Nice to hear your voice, Rosa. What's up?"
"Erika."
"What about her?"
"Don't act stupid. This isn't right, Jada. She's good. You know she's good. I know you know she's good. I sent you the video proving it."
"And you know that I know you know she's good."
"Damn it, Jada. Don't joke. Not after what you did to her."
My stomach dropped, the landscape narrowing to only the road. "Start at the beginning. Tell me what you're talking about."
Rosa brought in a breath and sighed. "I set up a notification on her name after you asked me to watch her and it absolutely blew up today."
"With what?"
"This story about Erika. About how she's a drug dealer and she cavorts with thieves and—"
"Cavorts? Who uses the word cavorts?"
"Jada. Focus."
"The video with Erika and that kid? They took his story about how she helped him, and they twisted it around. They know everything. About her dropping out of college. About her poverty. They even have a piece about her breaking into some pool and public indecency?"
"Anything about me and the pool?"
"No, why would there be something about you?"
"Shit. Shit, shit, shit. How did they get all that?"
"You tell me."
"Dad, he must have—shit." Sure, I'd suspected my father would lash out, but I hadn't anticipated a tech move. He was more of an analog guy. A horn blared nearby and I realized I'd drifted into the next lane. I slowed, pulled to the side of the road, and put on my hazard lights. "How far has it spread?"
"Not too far yet. But a story like this... someone's bound to pick it up eventually."
"Can you shut it down?"
"I can try, but it's so hard on Twitter."
"Please do the best you can."
Just then, a flip phone was the best thing that had ever happened to me. Erika probably didn't have a Twitter account, so she could only access it on the computer. Since it was visiting hours at the hospital, she probably wasn't at her computer, so maybe she wouldn't find out. Maybe the tweets would die and she would never have to find out.
"It's her, isn't it?" Rosa said the words so quietly, I barely heard them.
"What's her?"
"She's why you've been so happy."
"How do you know...?"
"I can tell."
"I need to fix this, Rosa."
"I know. I'll do my best. But before I go—I have something to tell you."
"I'm sorry, Rosa. I really have to go. I've got to get to Erika, but I'll call you soon, okay? Love you, thank you so much. Bye."
I hung up the phone. I knew it was bad to hang up on her when she needed me to help her for once. But right now, I had to focus on Erika.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
ERIKA
Day passed into night, passed back into the day. I couldn't much see the difference. The nurses allowed me to stay in the hospital with Dad, and while we had a window, it was almost like someone was turning the light on and off outside. The sunrises and sunsets didn't have their usual resonance with me. Perhaps because I hadn't slept much and certainly not at night.
The first day he didn't talk to me much, and I didn't want to talk to him because as soon as I did, he would see what I had done with the Calver. But on the second day, he sat up, ate something and seemed more alert.
"How're you feeling?" I asked.
"I would feel a lot better if you stopped asking me that," he said, sourly.
"Why are you so grumpy? Need some more pain medication? I'll go get the nurse."
"Sit down, sweetheart. You're going to give me another episode."
"Don't joke."
"I'm not joking." He closed his eyes and leaned his head back.
I sighed, feeling wired, like I'd had too much caffeine though I'd had none.
"You should go. I need some rest."
"I'm not leaving."
He turned toward me and opened his eyes. "Erika, I meant what I said the other day. I want you to get out there. To have a life. You've spent far too much time taking care of me. The hospital staff has it under control."
I sat back in my seat, bracing myself for the next question or comment. Before either of us could say another word, Jada popped into the room. She swung in, really, her hair a curtain of silky darkness as she tilted into the doorway.
"I heard someone was feeling a whole lot better. You're the star patient here, Mark."
Dad smiled unlike he had since the heart attack, and it made me smile too, like our mouths were attached to the same puppet wire and Jada was the puppet master. "It's nice to see you," he said.
"I'm sorry I had to leave. I had my own little family emergency. Nothing this serious, of course, but... you know families."
Now I thought about it, I didn't know much about Jada's family at all. I knew her father was a bit of a pill and her mother traveled and she had a sister. I didn't even know Jada's last
name, did I? Had she ever told me? How had I found out so little with so much time spent together? "I appreciate you coming, but only immediate family members are allowed right now," I said, clipping my words.
"Erika." Dad frowned.
Jada frowned.
Now I was the puppet master. The sleepless night had led me to a conclusion that I couldn't shake, even in the light of day. It would never work with Jada. It couldn't. Our lives were so different—her in the city, me in the mountains, neither of us able to thrive in one another's worlds. What did we have in common? Great sex? How long would that last if we couldn't connect on any other wavelength?
Plus, I was in for the long haul with Dad's care, and I could see now, though she was trying her best to hide it, this place made her uncomfortable.
Her eyes pierced mine like she was reading me. "Have you been home yet?" she asked softly.
"No, the pain in my ass hasn't left my side once," Dad said. "Always staring at me when I wake up."
This was the most animated I'd seen Dad. I patted his shoulder. "Don't overdo it."
"Please, take her." He clasped his hands, pulling the IV tube with him as he went. "Take her for just a couple of hours. I'm begging you."
"I'm not leaving," I said for the millionth time.
"The doctor says I'm out of the woods. Please, do it for me."
"C'mon, Erika. The man is begging," Jada said.
My gaze traveled between them. Maybe it would give me time to let down Jada and remove her as a distraction. Maybe this was the best time to do it. After Dad came home, my time would be even more constricted. "Well... okay. Only for a couple of hours, though. I'm going to have the hospital put me and Jada on speed dial, just in case."
"I'll be fine."
"I'll go have them do that right now." Jada bopped out of the room. If I had thought I was wired, Jada was another thing altogether. She was chipper, a forced grating chipper, and it made her seem garish in the hospital lighting.
Dad took my hand. "Stay away for at least three hours. Have fun."
"Yeah, yeah," I said, standing and stretching. How long had it been since I'd had a good stretch?