Tangled Up in Daydreams

by Rebecca Bloom

  “Ow.” Pulling her hand up to her mouth. “Easy, Tiger.” Tasting a little blood.

  “Oh, baby, I’m sorry.” Clenching his teeth slightly. “Didn’t mean to.” The words sort of jumped out of his mouth like hot popped corn.

  “Are you okay?” Looking at him, wiping her mouth.

  “Yeah, fine. Why?”

  “You’re a little jumpy.”

  “Just pumped from tonight. It was cool playing some new stuff. I had a really good time.”

  “Me too. It was a good show and it was great for Elliot.”

  “The place is going to do real well.” Overenthusiastically. “Did I cut you?”

  “Yeah, just a little. I’m fine.”

  “I’m really sorry.” Grabbing her hand and squeezing hard. “Can’t wait to get you home.”

  “Liam.” Prying off his fingers. “You may break me.”

  “Let’s just go.”

  If Molly had been totally with it and not in her own little fuzzy bubble of a few drinks, she would have seen his eyes twitching, dancing, and his fingers tapping out the cha-cha on the steering wheel. Instead, she turned on the radio and sat back in her seat. About halfway home, in the middle of her favorite Ja Rule song, everything jerked left, then right, and it suddenly felt like the car was slipping. Molly looked up and thought she was cruising the length of a Slip ’n Slide or maybe lying flat in the middle of a spin art machine. She turned her head toward Liam and then there was the crash. The next thing she remembered was hearing her name.

  “Molly! Molly!” Liam yelled.

  “I’m okay.” Opening her eyes and mentally cataloguing her body. Her back felt funny, like something had untied. Pain slowly spread out and wrapped around her like a sarong. Her wrist felt limp, something had snapped. “Oh, shit.” She looked at Liam, who had a cut on the side of his forehead. Blood was running down his face. “Liam, you’re bleeding!” Momentarily ignoring her back and hand.

  “I’m okay. Are you okay?”

  “I don’t know.” Undoing her seat belt slowly with her good arm. “But, baby, you’re bleeding.” Grabbing her sweater off the floor and holding it to his face. “What happened?”

  “I fucked up.”

  “What?”

  “I’m fucked up. I fucked up,” he kept repeating to himself. “I fucked up.”

  “Calm down. Take a deep breath.”

  Molly gingerly got out of the car and tried to stretch her back. No amount of yoga forward bends were going to fix this right now. The pain was starting to swallow her, and she had to catch her breath. Her wrist was definitely broken. She wiped the tears from her eyes, then looked around, fearing what she was going to see. Another car, more blood, major damage; instead, the front passenger side of the car was up on the curb with two large metal garbage cans crushed under the wheel and the front bumper smashed deeply into the base of a cement light. They had hit the curb, the cans, and finally plowed into the light. No one else was around: it was just them with a majorly dented car—her car, no less—on a small street near their home. Thank God they only had contacted inanimate objects; someone was on their side. Even though Molly felt like storm-preventing burlap bags were layered on top of her entire body, she knew they were lucky. Molly carefully walked around the car and opened Liam’s door. Somehow, she was in caretaking mode, only able to focus on Liam. Visible blood took precedence over invisible broken bones. She took the sweater off his head to see if he was still bleeding. It had almost stopped, but it looked like it needed stitches. His brow was also beginning to swell a little and a bump had formed under the cut. Tomorrow, it would be a first-class shiner.

  “I fucked up.” Repeating.

  “It’s just an accident. Just some cans. It’ll be fine, but Liam, we need to go to the hospital.”

  “No, we can’t!”

  “We have to. They should check your head. You could have a concussion. You might need stitches.” Trying to calm him down. “And I think I’m really screwed up.”

  “No! Molly, you don’t understand. I’m fucked up. I took a bunch of E.” Casting his eyes down.

  “Excuse me?” His words hitting her like firecrackers.

  “I took some E at the bar, two hits. I thought I could get us home before I started rolling. I’ve driven on it before. I’ve been fine. But I thought I saw something and I turned the wheel too hard, and lost control.”

  “You fucking asshole!” Molly, igniting. “Why didn’t you tell me? Jay could have driven us both home!”

  “I’m telling you now.”

  “Oh, fuck. I can’t even believe this.” Walking away from him. “Okay, deep breath, Molly.” Talking to herself as she ran her good hand over her back.

  Her wrist was starting to throb. Memories of second grade and her pretending to be Olivia Newton-John in perfect Xanadu mode skating around the driveway and wiping out flashed. What the fuck! She brought her fingers to her face and held them there for a while hoping the cool pressure of her palm would transport her up and away from this disaster. When she brought them back down to her side and opened her eyes, she had not pulled the Dorothy she had wished for. She walked back.

  “Can you get out, please?” Calmly.

  “Yeah.” Undoing his seat belt and getting out. “I feel fine. My head just hurts a bit.”

  “To be honest, I really don’t give a fuck how you feel. Just get out and get in the other side, so I can get us out of here before people come out and start poking around.” Completely sobering up.

  Liam fully exited the car and walked to the other side of the curb while Molly got into the car and reversed slowly. She felt the cans loosen and she called out the window to Liam.

  “Dislodge the trash cans and get in.”

  It took him a minute or so, since the cans were still somewhat caught under the bumper. Soon he got in, buckled, and Molly put the car into drive. Luckily, it ran fine, and Molly eased them off the curb and drove them home very slowly. She parked and without saying another word, nor looking at the full damage done to her car, walked into their apartment. Liam quickly grabbed his guitar from the back and followed after her with his tail wedged firmly between his legs.

  “Look, Molly, I’m sorry.” Trying to get her attention. “I’ll pay for whatever it costs.”

  “Save it. I can’t even listen to the sound of your voice.” She carefully walked into the bathroom, gritting her teeth in pain, and returned with some bandages, antiseptic, a bottle of Advil, and some ice. “Sit down.”

  Liam sat and Molly tended to his wound as best she could with one hand. She was a picture-perfect Florence Nightingale. The cut was still bleeding a little. Part of her wanted to make it deeper with her nail, but not being violent person she instead placed the bandage on tightly enough to slow the flow a bit. Too bad her wound wasn’t so skin-deep. Molly knew it would be months before she felt better. Her injuries would linger long after a simple scratch had healed.

  “Molly, please. Just hear me out.”

  “No. Liam, I really just can’t even begin to deal with this. Pass me the phone.”

  “Who are you calling?” Handing it to her.

  “Dial Jay.”

  He handed her the ringing phone.

  “Hello.” A sleepy voice purred.

  “It’s me. I need you to come over right now.”

  “What’s wrong?” Still sleepy.

  “We had an accident and we have to go to the hospital.”

  “What!?” Waking up.

  “Just come over and I will explain later.”

  “I’ll be there in ten.” Hanging up.

  “What are you going to say?”

  “That we got in a car accident. They don’t need to know the details and if they ask I’ll tell them it was a cat or something.”

  “And what about me? What should I say?”

  “Whatever you want.”

  Molly winced as she got up and went into her room to grab a clean sweater. She carefully put it on and waited for Jay. Her hand
bumped into her side and she let out a cry. Fuck. Soon they were all in the car headed for the hospital. Jay kept her mouth shut—this was one she didn’t want to get in the middle of just yet. She drove quickly and carefully so as not to hit any bumps.

  “Jay, do you think he should tell them he’s on E?” Molly asked. “Before they treat him?”

  “What?” Shocked.

  “Yep, he’s fucked up and failed to tell me that. Somewhere between the bar and home, the car met with a cement streetlamp. And now I think my back is fucked and my wrist is pretty much broken.”

  “Are you a friggin’ idiot!” Jay yelled at Liam, turning. “What the hell were you thinking?”

  “Stop yelling at me!” Liam cried.

  “You can be such a moron! You could have killed someone!”

  “I know! Don’t you think I know that! It was an accident.”

  “No shit, Sherlock!” Jay kept on. “A perfectly preventable one. Sometimes I wonder how you function.”

  “I get it, I know. I’m sorry!”

  “Can you guys just shut up, please.” Trying not to focus on the pain. “Just drive and get us there.”

  Jay again looked at Liam and scowled. She then looked at Molly and concern spread over her face. She drove a little faster. Jay pulled into the emergency entrance of Cedars and gingerly helped Molly out of the car.

  “Liam, go get someone to help us.”

  Liam ran in and returned with an attendant who walked Molly into the hospital.

  After about four hours, five stitches, a handful of lies, a few X-rays, two cups of coffee, and thankfully minimal questions, the group trudged outside and back into Jay’s car. Molly’s wrist was broken and was sporting a temporary cast. Tomorrow she would have to go to an orthopedist to get a more permanent one as well as to physical therapy for a routine to heal her sprained back.

  During the ride home, she could barely move and focused only on her bed. Jay and Liam helped Molly up to their apartment, and after they settled her in bed, Jay got comfortable on the couch next to Liam.

  “Looks like it’s you and me, baby.” Liam trying to joke.

  “Don’t bother.” Flicking on the TV. “The only reason I’m here is to help her.” Gesturing to the bedroom. “And she said the doctor told her that you needed to be kept awake for a few more hours in case you have a concussion. She, obviously, doesn’t want you to fall into a coma and die, so here I am.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.” Turning to him. “Liam, you know how bad this is, don’t you?”

  “I do, and I’m so sorry. If I could take it back I would, Jay. I don’t know what possessed me to drive.”

  “You better take care of her from here on out. You really could have killed her.”

  “I know.” Quietly.

  Jay and Liam spent the whole night on the couch, not speaking, not sleeping, just watching bad TV until dawn. Part of Jay wanted him to pass out, fall into a coma, and have more than a scrape on his head after almost killing her best friend, but she was never a violent person. Instead, she silently seethed.

  The next morning, at Molly’s insistence, Jay left to get some rest and Liam drove her to the doctor. Her doctor had prescribed Vicodin and a long course of treatment requiring three days’ bed rest then physical therapy mixed with massage that would last six weeks or longer, depending on how fast Molly healed. He also wrapped her wrist in a hot-pink cast that would have to stay on for about two months. It all seemed slightly unfair to Molly. She would be the one to cringe every time she moved for the next month and have to deal with a dull pain coursing through her body twenty-four-seven while he wouldn’t even have a real scar. How was Molly going to do her work? No way was she going to be able to lean over and craft with a bad back and one good hand. This whole accident was going to X-Acto a slice of time out of her life that she would never be able to get back. She had been seriously fucked over.

  They got home, crawled into bed, and slept. Later that day, Molly woke up and went to take a bath. Her back desperately needed the soak, seeing how the Vicodin had only slightly deadened the ache. She poured in a bottle of muscle-easing salts, lit a vanilla candle, and carefully settled in with her wrist propped on the side of the tub. Liam came into the bathroom and sat on the toilet next to her.

  “Can I join you?”

  “No.” Not looking at him.

  “Can I sit here?”

  “Free country.” Trying to get comfortable.

  “Can you stop being so … ?”

  “So what? Angry? Hurt? Scared? Pissed? No, I really can’t.” Raising her voice a little.

  “Molly, I’m so sorry about last night. I blew it. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  “You were thinking about getting high and that’s it. What you should have been thinking about is that I am driving my girlfriend, or how about even I am driving myself, home and I don’t want to kill her or me or anyone else who happens upon my path.”

  “I know.” He hung his head.

  “Do you?” Looking at him finally. “I can’t take this anymore.” Feeling a tear run down her cheek. “We could have died, someone could have died. It’s like we were the luckiest people on earth. This can’t go on.” Crying harder.

  “What are you saying?”

  “I don’t know.” Wiping her face off. “All this shit is getting in the way. I can’t keep picking up after you. I’m the one who ends up getting more hurt. All the deals we have made, the promises as a couple to keep each other safe, have flown right out the window on the tail of whatever drug you’re smoking. I’m scared of the next time. My body can’t handle the next time.”

  “There’s not going to be a next time.”

  “I’ve heard that before. How do you know? What if there is and what if you aren’t so lucky? What if you get fucked up and die or I die! This is too much for me to handle.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “Liam, you need to figure out how you want your life to go. There have been a million little things I have forgiven—my birthday, my parents, your friends, countless times you’re late or flake or whatever. I just have nothing left. This all needs to change or …”

  “Or what?” His face falling. “Molly, or what?”

  “Or maybe I can’t be here anymore.” Staring at him, unflinchingly. “Maybe I can’t be with you anymore.”

  Liam started crying, holding his head in his hand.

  “Don’t leave me. I love you so much,” he whispered. “You are the single most important thing to me, ever.”

  “You say that and I want to believe you, but then what the fuck are you doing? Why on earth are you putting me at so much risk?”

  “I don’t know. I really don’t.”

  “You need to deal with this. You’ve got to get help.”

  “I will, I’ll stop everything. Cold turkey. I’ll even go to some meetings. I’ll do it for you.”

  “Not for me, for you.”

  “For us. Just give me one more chance. I swear nothing like this will ever happen again. I can beat this.”

  “I don’t know.” Laying her head back against the porcelain.

  “Molly, I promise you I’m done, just stay with me. With you here I know I can do anything.”

  Molly pulled her knees into her chest and her whole body shivered. Another promise, another pledge. Would it last? She reached out and grabbed his hand. Touching him, holding him. Molly tried to think if they could once again be as solid as flesh and bone. They sat there for a long time like that, and four months passed without incident. Without a drink, a hit, without even the formation of a pack a day smoking habit. She forgave, Jay forgave, and their lives went on as usual. Molly was silly to think it would last, but she believed in it and him and tried to rebuild her trust. Trust that came crashing down when Liam was strung out on a gurney being shocked back to life.

  “Molly, how could you keep this from us? Why didn’t you tell us? I’m so upset.” Helen voicing conc
ern.

  “I’m fine now. Yoga has helped and it is only tender every once in a while. And the wrist is completely healed. I didn’t want you to freak out like you are now.”

  “Freak out? Of course we are going to freak out! My baby is hundreds of miles away hurt and I didn’t even know!” Starting to cry. “How many more chances are you going to give him to hurt you? It’s like you are putting yourself at the opposite end of a loaded gun. Your body is literally a landscape littered with his mistakes!”

  “Your mother is right. What happens next time? You break your back? You break a leg or another arm? You get killed?” Henry yelled. “You need to walk away from this. He is dealing with things that are just so much more than what’s normal.”

  “Dad, what is normal? Everyone has issues. No one is perfect. What if this were me? Would you walk away from me?” Defending him.

  “You’re our daughter. It’s different. He’s just a stupid boyfriend.” Henry escalated in tone. “A boyfriend who put you in the hospital!”

  “He’s not just a boyfriend. You make it sound like I picked him up at the gym last week between sets of push-ups. It has been years. We are a couple, a family. We have a history.”

  “We are your family.” Helen stating flatly. “And if this is your so-called history, you better come up with some revisionist theories.”

  “Mom, it’s not all like this. Liam is my family. And there are just as many good times as there are bad.”

  “You’re not married. You can leave.”

  “I know I can, but a ring and a piece of paper would not make me more committed than I am now. And what does it say about me if I totally bail on him after he finally really admits his problem and goes to get serious help?”

  “It says that you are watching out for yourself and removing yourself from a dangerous situation. It says that you are cutting your losses.” Henry confirming. “This is not your life.”

  “But it is my life. He is my life. Cut my losses! Stop talking about this so analytically! You didn’t raise me to walk away from people who are in trouble. Besides, what about all that shit you told me the other day about respecting whatever I decided? And if I loved him then you weren’t going to yell at me and make me feel like shit!”