by Jen Stevens
The nurse peaks her head in and stares at us in confusion. I shrug and smile, shaking my head at the two maniacs I’m stuck in the room with just as the baby lets out a soft cry. Marnie quickly sobers up and reaches over to grab her, a few chuckles lingering in her throat as she cuddles her daughter into her chest.
“I carried this child around for nine months and she comes out looking like you. Where’s the justice in that?”
I spent the day with them, selfishly hoping no one else from The Hollow would come to visit and then immediately taking it back when I realized how wrong I am for putting that thought out there. Marnie deserves visitors. She deserves all the love and support she can get, especially when we both know I'll be heading back to the airport later tonight to catch a plane to school. Either way, no one came besides a tired Josh who had just come off a twelve-hour shift at the factory and couldn't even check his phone to receive the news.
She received a few text messages and calls from friends to congratulate her and promise to pop in when she got home, but no one bothered to take the time to come up to the hospital and see her. To help her take a load off as she recovered from childbirth and still managed to take care of two needy children. I wished I could stay, but we both knew it wasn’t possible.
“What do you think about Gabriella?” she asks me as I feed Ally her macaroni and cheese dinner.
“I like it.” It's beautiful and elegant, just like the little girl sleeping in her mother’s arms.
“Me too,” she sighs, looking down at the child with nothing but love and admiration in her eyes.
“Me too,” Ally parrots, causing another fit of quiet giggles to fill the room.
Josh is sleeping soundly in the recliner beside Ally, and we decide to leave him alone for a little while. Denise still hasn’t come. It’s nearing the end of visiting hours when I finally get the nerve to bring her up, too afraid that the mention of her would spark an emotional response from Marnie that I’m not equipped to deal with. When she first had Ally, everything I said on the phone made her cry, usually making awkward goodbyes before we picked up the next day and pretended nothing had happened. She said it was the hormones.
“Who’s going to help you at home, Marnie?”
She looks over at Ally curled up in my lap, then to Gabriella in her bassinet. “I can handle it.”
A scoff falls from my mouth before I can stop it. Marnie’s eyebrows knit together in defense. “I’ve been handling things on my own for a while now, Mouse. I promise, I’ve got this.”
“What do you mean? Hasn’t Denise been there to help out?”
The thought of Marnie caring for a toddler full-time at nine months pregnant has my blood boiling. I try to remember the last time I heard her mention our mother’s name in our nightly calls, or even the last time I asked about her. Nothing came.
Her head shakes side-to-side. “No. She left a couple of months ago to live with Mark Hassle. They’d been seeing each other for a couple of weeks and decided to take their relationship to the next level.”
Sarcasm bites her tone, her eyes rolling up to the ceiling in annoyance.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“What would you have done?”
“Come home to help.” I cringe at the thought, but immediately know in my heart that’s what I would have done. I’d drop everything to help Marnie.
“Exactly. You’re halfway through with school, Mouse. I’m not going to let you throw away your future the way I did. We’ll get by just fine. You need to focus on yourself for now.”
Her selflessness is admirable. In our lifetime together, I’ve never known Marnie to spend so much time thinking of others, especially not me. But becoming a mother has changed her for the better and while I want nothing more than to drop everything and help her out, I know it would be in vain. She doesn’t need me to sacrifice my future to help her; she needs me to work hard and get through it for now so I can help her out later. Somewhere along the way, I’ve become her ticket out of that place, only I’m just now realizing it.
We don’t speak about it again for the rest of my visit. When it's time to go, I kiss them all goodbye and hesitantly walk out of the room, dread filling me with every step I take away from them. I have to trust that Marnie can handle her family without my help and focus on the only thing that's going to help all of us: my education.
That doesn’t stop me from calling her the moment I arrive back to my apartment to ask how things are going. Or from calling twice a day since. Josh was only able to get two days off work to bond with his new daughter, then it was back to twelve-hour shifts. Denise found her way to the house once they were released from the hospital. According to Marnie, she took one look at Gabriella, made a comment about her looking just like me, then walked away with a cigarette lit in her hand.
Chapter 11
Lyla
Twenty-two years old
Today is graduation day at Cornell. It marks the end of the most transformational four years of my life, spent at the most amazing place, with the best people. My fellow classmates and I are waiting in the auditorium before we walk across the stage in front of our friends and family to receive our degrees, nervous anticipation swirling around the room as we take the time to reflect on our experiences together. And I’ve had so many.
Despite my mother’s brutal words as I walked out her front door for the last time, I quickly learned that she was wrong. Growing up in The Hollow didn’t define me here. I’ve made friends. I’ve earned good grades and managed to get through all four years without a single loan taken out. I’ve even supported Marnie and her two girls sometimes, sending money into her account for groceries or paying for plane tickets to fly them out to New York.
I was proud of my accomplishments and the road it took to get me here. I couldn’t wait to have my name called, so I can walk across that stage in front of Marnie and my two nieces and show them that life is possible outside of our dumpy hometown. This day was living proof.
“Can you believe it?! What are we going to do with all our time now?” my roommate, Kimberly wondered beside me.
She was a Bioengineering major, making her social life through college virtually nonexistent. We still managed to find time for each other, though. We’d been paired up in our first year here and both decided that the other was probably the best we were going to get when it came to roommates. Our bond has strengthened since then and I know it’ll last when she heads back home to Texas to begin her career close to family. That’s just the type of person she is.
I still have no idea where I’m going to go when this is all over. Where people like Kimberly were just now beginning their post-college job search, I’ve already been working on my career for two years and I’m loving every minute of it. The week after Marnie had Gabriella, I submitted my work to a few publishers in the New York area. After a slew of rejection letters, I finally got a bite.
Just over a year later, my book was published. The words that I swore would never be seen by anyone else but me have somehow gotten me on quite a few bestseller lists, and we’re already working on releasing a sequel. The best part is that I can write from anywhere in the world and travel whenever I want. It’s not what I had in mind when I enrolled at Cornell, but I was learning that the best things in life come unexpectedly.
On top of the job perks, I have more money than I could ever need, which makes it possible to send Marnie and the girls the things that they aren’t able to get on their own. I still experience that familiar pang of guilt in my chest when I think about them stuck in a place that stunts growth. Marnie usually talks me out of it, assuring me that they’re there by choice, not by force. I didn’t care. I still planned on getting those two girls out of there the first opportunity I got, even if that meant leaving Marnie behind.
They didn’t choose to live this life, and they should be given every opportunity available to them to prosper and grow in ways they’ll never be able to in that small little town.
&n
bsp; I’m thinking about them as the dean calls my name and beckons me across the stage, congratulating me with a smile.
Chapter 12
Lyla
Present
The house looks the exact same as the day I left. Same dilapidated, moldy aluminum siding covering the front, same faded red door, same broken-down shutters. Everything looks the same, yet it couldn’t be any more different.
A curtain shifts in the front window, startling me on the sidewalk. It’s hard for me to believe there’s people still living there—my family. The house itself looks rundown and dead, yet somewhere inside there’s life.
The red door opens and a little face peeps out. “Are you coming in?” Ally asks, her bright blonde hair and pink dress a stark contrast against the dingey coloring of the house behind her.
I smile at her, tightening the grip on my purse for security as I take the first step toward her.
“Of course.”
She giggles and a second little redhead pops out just below hers.
“And how are you, Gabby Girl?” I ask, earning a toothless grin.
I’ve reached the steps to the porch now and like a magnet, my body feels like it’s being pulled back to my rental car parked in the street. Repelled from this place—away, away, away. I shouldn’t be back here. I wasn’t ever supposed to come back. But they needed me to, and I’ll never be able to deny Marnie or her girls anything.
“Where’s your mom?” I ask as I step into the entryway.
Marnie has painted since I’ve left. Instead of the drab gray that was here before, a deep blue now covers the walls. It has a cheery appearance, but I know what hides beneath. Those walls hold a myriad of secrets.
“She’s up in her room,” Ally’s peppy voice responds. “She’s been there all day.”
Just then, I hear the quiet sobs coming from up the stairs and the girls share a look between them that reminds me too much of my past.
I nod and smile, corralling them into the TV room and away from the stairs. The girls inform me that they don’t have cable, just an old DVD player and a stack of movies.
“Mommy says cable is just a waste of money,” Ally explains.
Gabby nods, gripping a worn, old teddy bear to her chest. “She says if we watch too much TV, our brains will turn into goo.”
The girls giggle at that, talking amongst themselves about mushy brains and goo as I try to get the broken-down DVD player to work. Once I have their movie restarted and they’re settled into the couch, I make my way up the staircase to find Marnie, making a mental note to call the cable company and have something installed as soon as I leave.
“Mar, are you up here?”
The cries have stopped, leaving an eerie silence in their wake. I check our old bedroom and the bathroom as I walk by, dread settling into my stomach as the memories come racing back. A sniffle sounds at the end of the hall, and I push down my own feelings to follow it.
She looks deflated. Worn down, just like the house. Nothing like the woman I left seven years ago for college, or the one I’ve visited with since.
“You came,” her tired voice fills the silent room, followed by another loud sniffle.
“Of course, I did, Marnie.”
“He left.”
My heart drops into my stomach. I know he left. That’s part of why I’m here in the first place; to mend her broken heart.
“I know.”
"How am I going to tell them?"
Without warning, a loud sob escapes Marnie’s lips, her entire body bouncing from the movement. I bite my lip to stifle my own emotions, because it all feels so wrong to me. Too familiar. It’s the exact reason I left this place and never looked back. Suddenly, I’m an eighteen-year-old girl again, and I need to let Marnie have her moment.
It’s her turn, after all.
I turn my back on my sobbing sister and walk out of the room, leaning against the wall across from Denise’s doorway for support. Or I suppose it’s Marnie’s doorway now. All I know is that this place and its memories are haunting me. Taking me back to a time I swore I’d never return to. A person I swore I’d never become again.
“Aunt Lyla, are you okay?” Ally’s voice echoes through the empty hall, pulling me back to the present just as the old memories start to pull me under.
I wipe away at the tears streaming down my face and force a smile. “I am. I just had a moment.”
“A moment?” she questions, her nose scrunching up in curiosity.
“Yes, a moment. Sometimes, we need to take moments to ourselves to handle our feelings. I’m all better now.”
“Is Ma having a moment?” Her blue eyes swing over to Marnie’s still form, brows knitted together in innocent concern. She must have fallen asleep.
“Yes, that’s exactly what she’s doing. She’ll be okay soon, though. Let’s give her some privacy.”
“Okay.”
A little while later, as the girls and I are finishing up our game of house, the steps creak and Marnie’s slim figure appears in the doorway. Her eyes are heavy and dark, but she looks like she’s cleaned up a bit since her breakdown in Denise’s room earlier.
“Who’s ready for dinner?” she asks excitedly, her tone betraying the heartbreak that’s clear across her face.
I never knew how she became so good at faking it. When did the emotions she allowed to show start to deceive the one’s she was truly feeling? Has she ever used her gift to fool me?
“I am,” the girls sing in unison, jumping from their spots on the floor beside me to run over to her.
I help her cook dinner as much as she lets me, and we don’t exchange many words between us as she works up a hearty, healthy meal for the four of us to enjoy. When our bellies are full and the plates have been cleared from the table, I follow Marnie into the kitchen and lean my back against the counter as she begins rinsing off our plates.
“So, have you thought about what you’re going to do with the house?” I ask casually, noting the fresh coat of paint Marnie must have also added to the walls in here. They’re light purple now instead of the dull, grease-stained yellow that once covered them.
“What are you talking about?”
“I mean, have you thought about where you’re going to go?”
“I’m going to stay right here, obviously.” She looks me over with her eyes narrowed, the same expression she always wore right before she called me something offensive when we were kids.
I shake my head incredulously, turning my body to fully face her. “You can’t be serious. You aren’t really going to keep them here, are you? Now that you don’t have any ties here, you could go anywhere.”
“I do have ties here. It’s my home; the girls’ home. They go to school and have a life here. Denise is here. I can’t just pack up my life the way you did and abandon everything I know.”
She lifts her hands from the soapy water and dries them on the towel between us, turning her body to match my stance.
Ignoring the small dig, I stand my ground. “They’re six and eight. They can’t have that much of a life here that you’d be upending. Come stay with me. My house is definitely big enough for all of you until you can get on your feet and find somewhere right for you.”
“You have got to be kidding me,” she huffs, throwing the towel back onto the counter to point a slender finger in my face. “Don’t think that you’re going to waltz in here after all these years and pretend to know anything that’s going on. You have no idea what we’ve been through while you were out there, living the life.”
Marnie’s eyes darken, her brows casting a menacing shadow onto them that reminds me too much of Denise.
“A few hand-outs aren’t going to change the fact that you abandoned us. We aren’t your charity case; we’re family. You seem to have forgotten that.”
“No, I didn’t forget anything and that’s not what I’m doing, Marnie,” I defend, my voice weak.
What is wrong with me? I’m stronger than this.
“Isn’t it? You came back here to slum it for a few days so you could save face for not being here for us. I see right through your games, little Mouse. Don’t forget that I know you better than you know yourself.”
No, she doesn’t. Marnie hasn’t known me for years, and I don’t have to take her verbal abuse. I turn to walk away, but I’m stopped when she catches my arm in her hand and swings me back around before letting go. I glance down at the red mark that's already forming, blood rushing to the spot to form a bruise. Then, with blackness in her eyes and venom in her voice, she echoes the same words our mother said to me the day I left her for good.
“You aren’t better than us, Mouse. You never will be.”
Somehow, I'm stunned into silence and filled with deafening rage all at once. My past self and present self fight each other on what to do next, conflicting with one another like two rivals.
Without another word, I turn my back to her and walk out the front door. I need space. I need to get out of this rotting excuse for a town before it eats me alive and unravels all the work I've put in over the years.
My foot almost hits a little lump sitting on the porch step. I have to grab onto the railing before I nearly fall from stopping so abruptly, and it’s then that I hear their quiet little voices.
“Are you leaving for good, Aunt Lyla?” Gabby’s bright green eyes gaze up at me, an identical shade to mine, although they pair much better with her auburn-colored hair than my dark shade of black.
“No,” I whisper, stepping between them so I can get off the porch and out of Marnie’s hearing range. I squat before them and lean in close like I’m telling a secret. “I’ll be back. I just have a few errands to run. Maybe later we can stop and get ice cream. Just the three of us.”
“Who’s Aaron?” Gabby asks, earning a sharp elbow in her side from her sister.
“Not Aaron, idiot. Errands. She has things to do.”
“Ma said you can’t call me that anymore. I’m telling,” Gabby whines, tears welling up in her eyes.
