Unveiling Chaos

by Allison,Jeannine

  “Don’t. You know I h-hate t-that name.”

  I gritted my teeth and spoke in a restrained tone. “Ellie, you need to decide what’s more important.” I walked forward, put the pizza and groceries down, and picked up the bottle. Shaking it in front of her face, I said, “This or your child.”

  Ellie’s soft sobs filled the apartment as I stared down at her. It broke my heart to see her this way. I felt helpless, like I failed her. If she could even consider this, then maybe we were in bigger trouble than I realized, maybe—

  “I didn’t know she was coming over,” she rushed out once some of her tears subsided. “I haven’t talked to her in weeks. She showed up drunk and with this bottle.” Ellie placed a hand on her stomach. “A congratulations,” she whispered, shaking her head.

  I screwed my eyes shut. “You shouldn’t have opened the door.”

  “I know. I know. I just… I have no friends… they all…” She trailed off and I opened my eyes to see water pooling in hers once more.

  Sighing, I put the bottle down and wrapped my arms around her. “I know, Ells. I’m sorry. I know you’re lonely. I’m sorry I’m not around more.”

  “It’s not your fault,” she said softly. “You’re working and just trying to take care of me. And all this,” she said, motioning to the bottle of alcohol. “This is my fault. But I—I want this b-baby, I want it so bad. I promise I do.” She slid her arms between us and rested her hands protectively on her stomach, like she’d done so many times since she found out. “I just… I’m s-scared. I’m s-so scared-d. I’m scared I’m gonna be h-horrible. I’m scared everyone’s r-right about how worthless I am.”

  “Hey, who’s everyone? Our parents? Fuck them. You are not worthless. You’re just struggling right now. You’ve been sober since you found out, right?” When she nodded confidently, I continued, “That’s great, Ells. You’ll just—”

  “I can’t do anything, D. I’m not good at anything.” She stepped back and held her hands out to the side. “I got drunk so I’d forget just how worthless—”

  “Don’t you dare repeat that shit to me. I have nightmares about all the shit Mom said to you. I don’t need you to re-fucking-peat it. It’s not true.” I stared at her with hard eyes until she nodded. But I could tell she still didn’t believe it. I pulled her back against me, holding her tight and wishing I could comfort her with more than just a hug.

  …

  I dialed Grayson’s number when I finally reached my car and got in.

  “Hello?” he answered in a no-nonsense manner.

  “Hey. It’s Damien.”

  “I know. What’s wrong?”

  I blew out a breath as my hand fisted the steering wheel. “I came home tonight and found Ellie sitting in front of a bottle of Jack.” Grayson was silent for so long I had to check to make sure he didn’t hang up. “Hello?” I asked after putting the phone back to my ear.

  “Yeah, I’m here,” he said gruffly, before pausing and clearing his throat. “Did she drink any?”

  “She said she didn’t and the seal wasn’t broken.” I recounted everything else, what I saw and what Ellie told me; all the while Grayson stayed silent, but I could tell he was diligently listening. I could tell he genuinely cared.

  “Okay, well it sounds like she resisted pretty well, so that’s promising. But you can’t jump down her throat every time she makes a mistake—she’ll never confide in you when she’s struggling if she thinks you’ll yell at her and judge her for it. You don’t want her to think of you as her parole officer.”

  “I know,” I muttered. He was right, I had already known that before I called. I shouldn’t have yelled at Ellie. And I shouldn’t have even considered going anywhere near Naomi. Yes, I was already aware of all the mistakes I made today. So why had I called him? Why had I dragged him into any of this?

  “It’s okay,” he said after a minute of silence.

  “What is?”

  “I know you want to be there for Ellie, but that doesn’t mean presenting her with some cardboard cutout of what you think she needs. She feels terrible right now because she thinks she’s let you down and that you’re mad at her.”

  “I’m—”

  “But,” he continued right over me. “Your reactions, and sometimes your overreactions, are going to make her stronger. She is going to see how this affects you and realize that she needs to step up. She may have declined the drink but she still let her friend in, she still let her stay, and she let her leave the alcohol. But one day Ellie will be more than a passive observer in her life. One day she’ll take control. Ellie will actively take control and make better choices because she’ll want to make you proud… she’ll want to make her child proud.”

  “That makes sense.” I nodded along as the words poured from my mouth. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. I’m ready to be there for you as much as for Ellie.”

  I opened my mouth to tell him it wasn’t necessary, that I could handle myself, but he had already hung up. And when I pulled the phone away from my ear, I realized once again, he was right. Why else would I have called him, if it wasn’t for his support? Maybe I needed him just as much as Ellie did.

  …

  It was a stupid idea, and somewhere in the back of my mind I knew it was going to end badly. Maybe that was why I’d done it. So I could finally yell at someone who deserved it, and who I knew could take it because they didn’t give a damn what I thought.

  Picking up the phone, I punched in the numbers I had desperately tried to forget. It only rang twice before my mother’s crisp voice floated over the line.

  “Harrington residence.”

  “Mom?” I cleared my throat of the emotional rasp before speaking again. “It’s Damien.”

  “I know.” She offered no more in the way of an explanation, so I could only assume she still had our numbers programmed. That had to be promising, right?

  “How have you been?”

  “Well. Your father and I have been very well.” She paused, and it didn’t escape my attention that she hadn’t returned the question. “What can I do for you?”

  “I was hoping I could stop by for dinner. I have some news and—”

  She laughed; a bitter, cold laugh that instantly put me on edge. “How much?”

  “What?” My brows furrowed as I glanced down the hall to make sure Ellie’s door was still shut.

  “We’ve been waiting for this phone call since the moment you stepped out of this house, Damien. There’s no way you could afford to take care of yourself, let alone Eleanor. So, how much?” It clicked. Money. She thought I was calling because I needed money. The thought left a bitter taste in my mouth as I squeezed my eyes shut and gripped the phone so hard I thought it would break.

  “We don’t need your money,” I bit out gruffly. The first few months had been rocky and our diets weren’t much better than a starving college student’s, but we made it. I busted my ass at two jobs because there was no way in hell I was ever crawling back to them.

  “Then what’s the news?” she asked slowly, suspicion lacing each word.

  I opened my eyes and stared at the blank television. There was no sense in beating around the bush. “You’re going to be a grandmother.”

  She gasped loudly before quickly trying to cover up the reaction by pulling the phone away and coughing. But when she got back on the line her voice betrayed her words. “Excuse me?” My mom tried to make the words sound fierce, but they came out a little hysterical.

  “I said you’re going to be a grand—”

  “I know what you said,” she snapped. “Lord, your father was right.”

  “About?”

  “How could you be so stupid, Damien?” she hissed. “I always stood up for you with your father. I insisted that surely both of our children couldn’t be idiots. Eleanor was slow, no doubt about it. Anyone could see just how stupid that girl was. But you? You had potential. You were just too lazy to ever develop it. But this? Knocking a girl
up has to be the dumbest thing you could have done. She knows your last name, yes? She probably thinks she can swindle her way into some money. After all, I can’t imagine why else she’d shackle herself to a tattoo artist who’s going nowhere in life. I can’t imagine—”

  “Shut up,” I ground out, unable to stop myself from raising my voice. I’d never condone violence on a woman, even one who was severely pissing me off. But right then, I was worried about what I would’ve done if my mother had been standing in the same room as me.

  “Is that any way to talk to your mother? Although I don’t know why I’m surprised. You children never had manners—”

  “Was that any way to talk to your son? Was that any way to talk about your daughter? I’m all for respecting my elders, but that shit goes both ways. You don’t get to walk all over me and talk shit and expect me to take it simply because you’re my mother.”

  She stayed blissfully silent for once. “It’s Ellie,” I whispered. God, how I wished I could let her believe it was me.

  “What’s Eleanor?”

  “Ellie is pregnant.”

  She laughed. She fucking laughed. And I could almost imagine her bending over and wiping her eyes because that’s how fucking funny she seemed to find this. “Oh my,” she said as it died down some. “Why didn’t I consider that? Of course it’s Eleanor. When’s she getting it taken care of?”

  “Taken care of?” I repeated. It was unnecessary though, I fucking knew what she was asking, just like I knew that this phone call had been a terrible idea. But still, I needed to hear her say it. I needed absolute, one-hundred-and-ten percent proof that these people we called our parents were as toxic as they’d always been. If they couldn’t accept their grandchild, their innocent grandchild, simply because of his or her connection to Ellie or me, then I really was done with them. And I’d damn sure find a way for Ellie to be too, once and for all.

  “Oh God, she’s not keeping it, is she?” she asked in horror. And that was it. Somehow, with those eight words, she ceased to be my mother. I couldn’t in good conscience call her that ever again, and I knew our father would have a similar reaction, maybe even a few degrees worse.

  “Of course she’s keeping her child. And she’s going to make a great mother. No thanks to you.” I laughed, but it was the saddest fucking laugh in the world. “I never gave two shits what you thought about me. But there is no way in hell I’ll listen to you spew that shit about Ells.” My voice broke a little on her nickname. “She is beautiful and she’s kind and somehow, despite everything, she looks at the world and sees all the good in it. You could walk through our front door right now and apologize, and she’d forgive you, no questions asked, because that’s the type of person she is. She’s amazing and it has nothing to do with you.”

  “Damien—” I pulled the phone away from my ear and hung up on her before she literally made me sick. I cannot afford a new phone. I cannot afford a new phone. I had to chant this as I struggled not to hurl my phone at the wall. My eyes were squeezed shut once more.

  “I was wondering how to tell them.” Her voice was soft and filled with pain. I opened my eyes to see hers rimmed red and silent tears coursing down her cheeks. “I know we agreed it wasn’t a good idea, but I guess somewhere in the back of my mind I still hoped…”

  “I’m sorry,” I croaked out. “Ellie—”

  She cut me off as she strode forward and flung herself into my arms. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “For what, sweet girl?” I asked as I affectionately rubbed her back.

  “For saying all those wonderful things.”

  My heart broke at the amazement in her voice, like she couldn’t believe I actually felt that way. I pulled her back and looked her dead in the eye. “I meant every word. Every. Fucking. Word. Okay, Ells?”

  My sister gave me a watery smile. “Yeah.” And for once, I actually felt she believed me. She scooted away from me and wrapped her arms around her knees, still looking a little sad. Maybe she was finally coming around and seeing our parents for who they truly were.

  “I know I should have let you tell them but—”

  “No, no, it’s okay,” she rushed to assure me as she looked up. “I can’t imagine how much more painful it’d have been if I actually heard what she was saying. Your… your reactions were enough.” She paused and took a deep breath. “I get it though.”

  “Get what?”

  “Every time you told me that the things they said and did weren’t words or actions of parents who loved their children, I didn’t get it. But now…” She trailed off as she looked down at her slight baby bump, her gaze tender. “I get it now. Because I can’t imagine what this little guy could ever do that would make me not love him. He could come out with green skin, piercings and tattoos everywhere, wanting to work at Burger King for the rest of his life and I’d still love him.”

  “Seriously, Ells?” I shook my head in mock disgust as she looked up at me. “You’d let him work at Burger King? It’s like you have no loyalty whatsoever. McDonald’s is where it’s at.”

  Her smile stretched as her fingers flexed against her stomach. And somehow, despite the fact I had just spoken to my mother for the last time (if I had it my way it would be the last time) and all the problems we still had left to face, I knew we’d be okay.

  “Guys suck,” I mumbled around a mouthful of food. Sam and I were hanging out, waiting for Derek, Alara, Gabe, and Sherry to show up.

  It was Sunday Funday, well actually it was Friday. But we had to move our weekly hangout around this weekend because Sam had plans on Sunday night and Derek insisted that it wouldn’t be the same without her. Sam had blushed when Derek announced the change last Sunday and she’d tried to tell us it was okay, but he wasn’t having any of it. I remembered narrowing my eyes on him and making a mental note to discuss it with him later, but then this sucky week happened and I completely forgot. Derek and I had slowly started talking more, it was still a little strained but it was easier when we were with the group.

  “What are you talking about?” Looking over, I saw Sam lower her Kindle and turn to face me, concern written all over her face. “Naomi?” she asked with a gentle touch to my forearm. I shook my head.

  “I’m fine. So—”

  “Are you sure?” she pushed, opening her mouth to say more.

  “What’s going on with you and my brother?” Her mouth snapped shut so fast it would have been comical if I wasn’t so nervous about her turning the conversation back on me. But I could tell by her deer-in-headlights expression that she was now worried about the spotlight I’d put on her.

  Hmm… intrigue.

  “Well?” I lifted my eyebrows. She blushed a little as she picked her e-reader back up.

  “Nothing’s going on. We’re friends.”

  “So why did he make such a big deal about making sure you were here?”

  She frowned for a second before laughing, almost making me wonder if I really saw her down-turned lips. “Probably because he knows what a friendless hermit I am and he feels sorry for me.” I froze. I hadn’t even thought of that. Gabe had told us how withdrawn Sam became after their mother’s death, so we always tried to include her in our activities. I knew she appreciated it, and it was easy to do—she was an amazing person. But I also knew that wasn’t the reason my brother had been so insistent.

  “Is that honestly what you think? He—”

  I was cut off as Alara and Sherry barged in. Well, Sherry barged in, Alara followed behind her and gently shut the door. Alara and Sam started talking as Sherry focused on her phone. We were just waiting on the guys before we headed out for the night, choosing to go out for dinner and a movie instead of staying in, which was something we’d gravitated toward lately.

  To look at all of us, we were a strange group. We all looked like we were headed opposite places because our styles were completely different.

  Alara always looked laid-back and relaxed, usually in nothing fancier than jeans and a plain
shirt or sweater, loose enough to show she had curves but tight enough so she wasn’t swimming in her clothes. Today she was wearing a tighter-fitting pair of black denim and a loose pastel-blue cable-knit sweater, topping it off with matte white flats. Her long, blonde hair was fixed in one of her signature over-the-shoulder braids, looking a little messier than normal.

  I turned my attention to Gabe’s sister. Sam was the picture of elegance. I didn’t think a day went by where she wasn’t completely put together, and today was no different. She wore a three-quarter-sleeved black blazer, trimmed in a light cream color, over a plain black tank top. Sam kept her accessories simple: a single strand of pearls rested on her neck, a simple pearl stud in each ear, and subtle cream flats. Everything clear to see because she had her dark brown hair up in a sleek ponytail. The only thing that indicated she had “dressed down” was the dark wash jeans she wore in place of the black dress pants she usually wore.

  Sherry’s style was more eclectic—she rotated between bohemian, classy, preppy, and glamorous, sometimes even dabbling in rocker and exotic clothing. Today she wore a simple black and mint green maxi dress, with her dark red hair falling in soft curls past her chest.

  And then there was me, in my body-hugging attire because my curves tended to get lost in anything else. I was wearing a green and blue sequined miniskirt, with a fitted dark-blue long-sleeve shirt tucked into it, a little of it pulled out and hanging over.

  It was hard to believe we were all doing the same thing. Alara looked like she was going grocery shopping, Sam looked ready for a business meeting, Sherry was the embodiment of what you’d wear when going on a picnic, and I could easily fit in at a club. I kinda loved how different we all looked.

  I had just finished piling my hair into a bun on the top of my head when a knock came at the front door. Sherry hollered for them to come in. Gabe nodded to his sister before walking to his girlfriend, while Derek lingered just inside the doorway as he tried to keep his eyes off Sam. He looked so nervous about being caught, as if looking at everyone and everything but her didn’t give him away.