Unveiling Chaos

by Allison,Jeannine

  “Jesus,” he muttered, cutting me off. “We’re not dating. We’re friends. Please don’t make this into a big deal.”

  “Uhh… I’m not making it one, it is a big deal. You haven’t been friends with a girl in years, and the only time you ever were was because you liked her. Besides, Sam is a great freaking girl to like.”

  A smile slowly crept up his face. “Yeah, she is.”

  “AHA! You don’t smile that way over a friend. So, what’s the problem?”

  My brother’s smile fell as his eyes rose to mine. “I don’t even know if she feels the same way.”

  “How could she not? You’re a complete catch.” I winked but his mood stayed somber. “Wow… you really, really like her.”

  “Yeah.” He cleared his throat and took a drink. “Yeah, I do.” My normally confident and outspoken brother began tearing at the label on his bottle and shyly looked up at me from under his lashes. “You really think she feels the same?”

  Sam and I had never really talked about it; we’d gotten close but either she’d change the subject or we’d get interrupted. And while I would have loved to push her on it, I wanted Sam to tell me when she was ready. But, regardless… “Yeah, Derek, I think she does.”

  With a nod, he smiled and relaxed against his seat. The bartender arrived just at that moment, and Derek ordered another round of drinks and a small appetizer sampler.

  “What’s that smile for?” he asked when she walked away. I hadn’t even realized I was smiling.

  “I’m just… I’m really glad we did this. I didn’t know if it’d be weird or something.”

  He leaned forward as he gave an understanding nod. “I know things have been tense between us and I’m sorry if it felt like I was taking her side. But I just… I can’t cut her out of my life. And you know what? She’s clean, Naomi.” He was practically giddy. “I went to her place, met her boyfriend. She’s really clean. She has a stable job, is paying rent… everything.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How long?”

  “Eight months.”

  I worried my bottom lip. “But that doesn’t guarantee anything.”

  “I know. You’re just going to have to trust her.”

  “Is that all?” The laugh that followed was hollow and it sounded way too sad for my liking, but I wasn’t going to deny my feelings any longer.

  “Naomi—” He reached for me but I pulled back and looked down.

  “I don’t know how I’m expected to do this,” I said softly. I could see my brother’s hands resting on the table only a few inches away, no doubt itching to grab mine that had fled under the table.

  “Do what?” he asked gently.

  “Pretend she didn’t break my heart.” I looked up into his sad, understanding eyes before reaching into my shirt and pulling out the clover necklace. Derek’s eyes widened, his gaze flying back and forth between my face and the charm.

  “I don’t want to be this way. I mean, she’s my mother. But…” I trailed off, my thoughts firing off too fast to catch a single one. “I have so many memories, so many happy memories, where she was the superhero who made everything better and saved the day. I didn’t think it was possible for her to fall.” My brother looked sadder than I’d ever seen him as I continued. “And I don’t know what it means that someone as strong as her, someone who raised us without a father and who was constantly working to give us everything, can fall just like everyone else.”

  “It’s not about strength, Naomi.”

  “Then what’s it about?” I asked, more than a hint of desperation in my voice.

  Derek’s expression changed, like he just realized something for the first time. He looked at me like he understood me for the first time. “Naomi, there’s no blueprint on how to be happy. No clearcut path that will direct you through life, allowing you to detour past all the pain.”

  I nodded because I knew that. Somewhere deep inside, I knew that, even if it was hard for me to accept.

  “You just have to keep going,” he continued. “You just have to trust that all the pain and uncertainty is worth it. I know it feels like the pain will kill you, but holding it in, ignoring it and shoving it down… that is what will kill you, Naomi.”

  “So I should just accept everything as it is? I should abandon taking any kind of control over my life and just hope it will all work out?”

  “No.” My brother shook his head as he reached for me once more. This time, I placed my hands in his, letting him comfort me. “You let yourself feel, and you let yourself love. Don’t take the easy way out, pretending your feelings don’t exist and that nothing can touch you.

  “You feel, Naomi, and then you hold onto that for as long as you can.”

  …

  It was Sunday night, and Alara and I were cooking dinner and waiting on Gabe to return with Megan, Alara’s niece.

  “Sunday Funday isn’t the same without Sherry, Derek, or Sam.”

  “Yeah,” I murmured sadly, looking at the framed photo we had on the kitchen wall. Sherry was at a conference, Derek picked up an extra shift at work for someone who was sick, and Sam had to study for a big test she had tomorrow.

  “But we get to have Megan for a couple nights until Jackie gets back on Wednesday. That’s exciting, right? We just need to look on the bright side.” Alara threw me a wide and bright smile.

  Huh. I didn’t know she had so many teeth.

  I gave her a strange look. “Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?”

  “I’m trying to be more positive,” she said resolutely. I opened my mouth to respond when Gabe’s ringtone floated through the apartment. Her smile grew—wow, even more teeth—as she spun around and walked to her room. My own smile slipped as I took a break from cutting the vegetables in front of me.

  I heard her laughing from the bedroom, and for the first time in a long time, I could appreciate how difficult it was to be Alara. To have to pretend you’re fine when in reality you’re anything but. And Jesus, I was probably only feeling a fraction of what she felt when she was going through an episode.

  She returned a minute later, sliding her phone into her pocket before gesturing to the door. “He needs some help with Meg’s stuff.”

  “Sure he does.” She was still smiling as she ran out of the apartment. Walking to the sink, I started washing my hands, preparing myself for Megan’s tornado of an entry.

  “Mimi!” Megan screamed as she ran through the apartment, crashing into my legs and holding on tight as I held my still soaked hands above the sink. I stretched to reach the hand towel on the stove before quickly wiping them dry.

  “Hey, kid.” I bent down to pick her up. “Someone’s getting heavy.” I groaned as I started tickling her flat belly.

  “Mi… mi…. stop… it….” Megan’s giggles echoed loudly throughout our apartment, bringing a large grin to my face.

  I put her back on her feet just as Gabe and Alara walked through the door. “Okay, okay.”

  “Meg, we’re still making dinner, do you wanna watch some cartoons?”

  She nodded at her aunt and made a move to turn before stopping and facing me once more. “Wait!” Megan held up her hands. “It’s spaghetti and meatballs, right? Mommy promised me spaghetti and meatballs.”

  Alara and I exchanged a look. It had been tacos, but no one would fault Jackie for forgetting to tell us her daughter’s expectations. Her life was crazy busy being a single mom.

  “Yes, it is.” Alara came over and tapped her on the nose. “And I think you just earned yourself an extra meatball for saying spaghetti right.”

  “Really?” Megan beamed as she hopped up and down before jogging to the living room and flopping on the couch. Gabe followed and sat down next to her.

  Shaking my head, I removed all the new ingredients from the pantry and fridge while Alara took care of cleaning up the tacos. Luckily we hadn’t gotten far.

  “So,” Alara spoke softly as her gaze flicker
ed to the living room to make sure Gabe and Meg were otherwise occupied. “I got a text from Derek when I was outside helping Gabe. He asked me how you’re doing.” She gave me a concerned look as she padded across the kitchen toward the fridge.

  I shrugged. “I told you what went down the other night.”

  “I know. It’s just… he seems really concerned.” She bit her lip, considering something.

  “Just say it.”

  Alara made her way back to me, leaning against the counter as she said, “What if she’s really clean? For good this time?” I stayed silent, staring straight ahead. “I just don’t understand, Naomi. All I keep hearing is ‘addict this,’ ‘addict that,’ but an addict is a person. Your mom is a person—she’s more than just an addict.” Her tone was harsh, but not because she was trying to be mean, she just wanted to get through to me. Welcome to the freaking club.

  I gritted my teeth against Alara’s words, trying not to take my frustration out on her. “I know that.”

  “Do you?” she questioned. “Because it sounds exactly like when people talk about the mentally ill and they just throw them into a group because it’s easier.”

  I felt sick. Because in a sense, she was right. But she was also wrong about one very important fact. “You didn’t choose this, Alara. Addicts have a choice. My mother had a choice. And she constantly chose something that wasn’t us.”

  My roommate shook her head. “I don’t think you really believe that. You know it’s not that simple. She—”

  “She what?” I raised my voice before glancing over and noticing Gabe’s raised eyebrows. I lowered it before continuing. “How can you justify every time I was left waiting at school for someone to pick me up because she was choosing to get high? And what about when we ran out of food because she chose to spend all our money on drugs? And where was she during my high school graduation as I walked across the stage with a smile, only to have it slip when I looked up and saw only Derek sitting up there? God only knows where she chose to be that day, but she sure as shit never chose me.” I kept my eyes down as I continued to prep the meatballs.

  “You’re scared.” I looked over to find Alara’s eyes wide with shock, like she hadn’t thought it possible. “Naomi—”

  “Mimi?”

  Our gazes snapped to the five-year-old standing in the doorway with her blanket dragging on the ground and a sad expression on her face. Gabe was hovering in the doorway, unsure of what to do. He mouthed sorry, but he didn’t have to be, I knew how fast she could jump from that couch and sprint away from you. I quickly wiped my hands and knelt in front of her.

  “What’s wrong, honey?” I rubbed my hands up and down her arms.

  “Are you mad because you have to make me pasgetti?” Her voice trembled as she mispronounced the word she’d said perfectly five minutes ago.

  I swallowed roughly. “No, Meg. Not at all. I’m mad at…” Her big brown eyes didn’t waver as she waited for me to answer. “My mom. We had a little fight, that’s all.”

  “Oh.” Megan exhaled, like that was the greatest news ever. “Okay… so that was your pouty time?”

  “My what?” I asked with bunched brows.

  “Your pouty time. When Mommy and I fight she says I get five minutes of pouty time”—Megan held up five widespread fingers—“then I have to be a big girl and stop throwing a tan… tan… a tantum.” Her brows bunched, knowing she still said it wrong.

  “It’s tantrum, sweetie.” Alara fought hard to hide her smile behind her hand, but I still saw it. Gabe made no such attempt as he started chuckling and walked back to the couch. I threw him a glare as I reassured Megan that everything was fine and gave her a hug.

  Well.

  Fuck.

  There was nothing like talking to a kid to get your priorities in order.

  We broke apart, panting for air but still not nearly satisfied.

  “I’m at work,” I said against her lips.

  I felt her smile against my mouth before we kissed once more, nothing fiery or passionate, just a gentle reminder that we were one another’s. I rested my forehead against hers before broaching the sensitive subject I’d wanted to talk about before she attacked me. I took a deep breath but kept my eyes closed.

  “I think it’s good you’re going to talk to her,” I said gently. Naomi had come in ten minutes ago and relayed everything that had happened this weekend. First the drinks with Derek on Friday, and then her talk with Megan yesterday. I had been busy all weekend, working and getting some things set up for Ellie, so the most we were able to do was exchange a few text messages.

  She stayed silent as I gently rubbed my thumbs over the soft skin of her shoulders. I slowly felt her relax until she asked, “What am I gonna say?”

  Naomi’s voice lacked the hard edge and sass I was used to, and in their place were fear and uncertainty. My eyes flew open to see her looking at me with the most heartbreakingly pleading expression. I couldn’t even relish in the fact that she wasn’t shutting me out.

  “I don’t know, maybe… maybe there’s something she needs to say but she’s scared to approach you.” I lifted my eyebrows and nudged her side with my elbow, thinking I’d give anything to get that sass back.

  She gave me a small, grateful smile. “Am I scary?” Naomi asked as she batted her eyelashes dramatically, forcing a laugh from me before both our expressions turned somber once more.

  “Of course you are. Anyone is scary when you love them. Alara, your mom, me”—her eyes widened slightly but I kept going—“you’re scary because you have the power to destroy the people that love you in ways no one else can.” Her expression was shocked and I knew why—I had pretty much said I love you without actually saying it. I opened my mouth to correct myself but realized I couldn’t. Because I was so close to being in love with her, that denying it would be a lie. So I settled on noncommittal, and breezed right over it.

  “Your mom loves you.” I shifted closer. “So yeah, you scare her, sweetheart.”

  Naomi’s gaze drifted over my shoulder. “I haven’t seen her in so long. I’ve shut her out at every opportunity.”

  “So?”

  “So…” She trailed off and when she looked back at me, tears were in her eyes. The first I’d ever seen. “What if she doesn’t want me? What if I waited too long? What if—”

  “What if she misses you? What if every single night she goes to bed praying tomorrow will be the day you call?” I shrugged. “All you’ll have is what ifs unless you talk to her.”

  She took a deep breath and reined in her tears. And a couple of blinks later, it was like they’d never existed at all. “You’re—” She stopped and pursed her lips before her eyes wandered over my face and she smirked. “Okay, yes, that makes sense.”

  I smiled. “What were you gonna say, sweetheart?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Yeah?” I laughed as I pulled her even closer. “Because it seemed to me you were going to say you’re right.”

  Her smile widened. “Never.”

  I raised my fist.

  I lowered it.

  I raised my fist once more.

  I lowered it once more.

  On the fifth raise, I quickly shoved it forward and pounded out three quick knocks before I could lower it again. Megan’s words from two nights ago and Damien’s words from yesterday, along with everything Derek had ever said, were all on a constant loop in my head. I only made it through one class today before I ditched the rest and came to the address Derek had given me a while back, “just in case.”

  I held my breath until the door opened a minute later and my mother stood in the threshold. Her mouth formed an “O” and her eyes widened in surprise as she looked me up and down. I did the same. She was wearing cut-off jean shorts and a plain fitted T-shirt. Her hair was washed and her skin looked radiant.

  “N-Naomi?”

  I cleared my throat, uncharacteristically nervous. “Hi.”

  “What are you doing here?” she asked, sti
ll dumbfounded and unmoving. I ignored her question and examined her more closely. No pin-size pupils. No bags under her eyes or scabs on her forearms. No needle marks. Nothing.

  “Are you…” I trailed off and cleared my throat again before finishing. “Are you really clean?” I asked in disbelief.

  Her smile widened and pride lit up her face. “Yes, Naomi. I’ve been clean for eight months.” My mom’s smile slowly dimmed as I stood there motionless, not giving anything away. I felt everything: joy, sadness, anger, fear, disbelief. Everything.

  I crossed my arms and settled on one: disbelief. It seemed too good to be true. That I could be getting her back after everything. “Really?”

  She bowed her head until I couldn’t see her eyes. When she looked back up they were red-rimmed and there were tears streaming down her face. “I know it’s hard for you to believe. But I am. You can check.” She held out her arms for a moment before lifting one hand and pointing it over her shoulder. “Or you can search the house. You always could find my hiding spots.” My mom’s lips lifted in an affectionate smile, like we were reliving the good old days.

  Hey, remember when I found you passed out in your own puke?

  Remember when you asked me to tie off the stocking so you could shoot up?

  Remember when I came home to drug dealers looting our house for the money you owed them?

  Those were great times.

  My fists tightened at my side. “Yeah, I had to be since my mom was a junkie.”

  Her expression completely fell and the tears came harder. I tried to ignore my guilt as one hand rested on her heaving stomach and the other covered her mouth to contain her sobs.

  Closing my eyes, I took five deep breaths before opening my mouth. “I’m sor—”

  “What the hell?” The man’s voice was harsh and loud, and my eyes snapped open. His eyes were blazing with pure rage as he looked me over like my mom had. But instead of concern and admiration, I saw disgust and something close to hatred.