“He’s not, baby. He’s not. And you need to move on from him. You’re about to have a baby. You can’t take care of him anymore,” Grandma continued lecturing.
“That’s interesting, because while Ethan is at school, Dad is taking care of me. He fixes me dinner. He’s really getting a lot stronger and better,” I said.
Grandma glared at Ethan. Ethan looked down as he stuffed his face with pasta. I couldn’t believe Ethan wasn’t defending me. He was there. He saw what went on in our house more than anyone.
“Let’s not talk about this anymore. Can we please talk about the baby shower?” Susan interrupted.
“Susan. I don’t want one,” I snapped. All of sudden, I just felt so emotional. I wanted to cry. I looked around the restaurant and it felt like everyone was watching my family attacking me.
It got really hot.
I felt my heart closing in.
I downed the water that was in front of me.
“I don’t care. It’s free gifts. Your mom would kill me if I didn’t throw her child a baby shower,” she said.
I looked at her like I had been immediately convinced because she mentioned my mother. I calmed myself down, miraculously.
Grandma nodded with her mouth full. I couldn’t believe how chill everyone was being. Why was no one mad at me? Why was this a good thing, as if I hadn’t been trying for years?
“Can I ask you guys something?” It was my turn to talk.
“Yeah, babe, what’s up?” Ethan put his arm around me.
“Why are you guys being so chill about this? Mom would kill me. Mom would ground me forever. Mom would make me get an abortion. Piper wouldn’t want me to keep it either. Dad doesn’t care what I do as long as I’m okay. But you guys…”
“Portia, you’re not a teenager anymore. You’re an adult. This happens to adults. I had a child in high school. I made it work. Gary and I weren’t even together then. You’re going to one of the best schools in the state, you have a boyfriend, and you have a home. You’re twenty years old,” Susan said.
Grandma started crying.
“You need this baby because you lost everyone. You deserve this.” I’d never seen Grandma this vulnerable before. But I completely understood what she meant. I’d had four people in my family—but now I only had my dad. With Ethan and this baby, it was four again and the baby would be Piper’s niece, Mom’s grandchild.
“This is horrible timing. I’m so sorry, but my break is over,” Susan said.
I panicked for a minute because I wasn’t going to have Ethan by my side to walk out of the restaurant but I had to be able to do this.
“It’s okay,” I told her.
Ethan got his stuff and kissed me. “You sure?” he asked.
I nodded.
He kissed my forehead and whispered, “So proud of you. You’re doing great.”
“Thanks. Do you need me to pick you up?” I asked him.
“No. I barely like you driving home alone.”
“I’m fine. I’m going to be a mother. If I can’t take care of myself…” We kissed. He left with Susan.
“Are you ready, sweetheart? Susan already got the check,” Grandma said.
“Okay,” I said.
Grandma got up. I looked around the restaurant and then looked at Grandma wobbling out and I followed her outside.
“I love you, honey. I don’t mean to get on you, I just want you to be the best you can be,” she said.
“It’s fine, Grandma. I understand. I have six months to get better. If you want me to see someone, I will, but only for six months.” Her face brightened. She hugged me so tight I got embarrassed.
“You and I should go out more often,” she said.
“Maybe…with the baby,” I said.
“I’ll take it,” she giggled.
Five Years Ago
“Portia, sweetie, you okay?” Grandma came up the stairs. I was staring at myself in the mirror wearing black jeans, a black t-shirt, and a black baseball cap.
“Yeah,” I mumbled.
“You’re wearing that?”
“Dad’s not ready yet,” I told her.
“We need to leave in five minutes. We’re already running late.”
“Don’t blame me. Dad’s still getting used to moving around,” I said.
“Car. Both of you, five minutes.”
My dad was tying his tie in the mirror. I hopped on the bed and looked at him.
“You really don’t have a black dress?” he asked.
“Nope. I wish someone would say something else to me. It’s my sister and my mother in those caskets and you’re really going to tell me to put on a dress?”
He laughed.
“Dad, you shouldn’t laugh. Our family is dead.”
“You’re right. Beer me?”
“You already had, like, three and it’s only one p.m.”
“Our family is dead, Portia.”
Touché.
Dad was sitting in the backseat of Grandma’s car when we saw what seemed like the whole world waiting at the church. I’d never seen so many people in one place in my entire life. I looked at Dad in the rearview mirror.
“You think we would get the same turnout if you and I had died?”
Dad met my eyes. He was drunk. He didn’t want to deal with this and neither did I, especially since there were so many people here and all the attention was going to be on us.
“Dad, if you leave me, I will kill you and put you in a casket right next to them,” I hissed.
Grandma looked over at me. Dad grabbed my shoulder and squeezed it. I didn’t know what I would have done without him. What if he had died? Dad knew me best. He was just like me. All my personality traits, I got from him. What if it was Piper and him and I was stuck with just Mom? I loved Mom, but we always fought. Dad and I never fought. It sounded so fucked up, but right now, I just knew that I lost people I loved and I had to mourn them in front of a hundred people. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking. I didn’t want to be here. I didn’t want “here” to even exist.
“Just look down,” he said.
I did. I had sunglasses on. He had sunglasses on. We both just looked down and walked. We followed Grandma. I felt everyone’s eyes on us. I could feel the tension and the pity. Some of my dad’s friends were there, too—it was strange.
“Dad, do you know those guys?” I asked as we sat in the reserved seats in the first row. Every now and then I looked around to see who had come. Basically, the whole high school was here. I saw a lot of my teachers. It was the most surreal funeral ever.
“We’ll have to talk to them later.”
“You don’t have to talk to anyone, just talk to me. I won’t leave your side.”
“Shh. We don’t want to give people more to talk about,” Grandma said.
What? Are you fucking kidding me?
I looked at my dad, I was about to punch his mother in the face. He grabbed onto me tightly and I put my head down on his chest. I just wanted to be buried. People kept going up and talking about Mom like she was a fucking saint.
The thing was, she was a saint. Not at home, though. She did a lot of charity work. She wasn’t a mean boss. She was strong, detail-oriented, badass, and strict. She wasn’t abusive, unfair, or insane. She was like the perfect parent, just not the perfect parent to a fucked-up child like me.
Listening to everyone talk about Piper was heartbreaking. Everyone loved her. They told stories with inside jokes that I didn’t get, but I remembered hearing about them in my bed, in my room, on my floor, in the bathroom. She used to tell me everything that happened to her. It was like I was being reminded of how great she was. I kept crying, but couldn’t stop smiling. It was so hard. I wanted to go home and keep writing letters. I wanted to be in her room. I wanted to dress up in Mom’s clothes. I wanted to pretend they were both still here. The hundred people standing here telling me how sorry they were made it real.
&nbs
p; They were dead.
They were gone.
They weren’t coming back.
Susan held the wake at my house. I hadn’t touched anything, so it was like they could come in any minute. Maddie was eating a brownie Aunt Dora made.
I didn’t say anything, just looked her up and down.
“I was wondering if I could see her room. She always told me if she ever died, I could have her pink skirt. She told me that in middle school. She loved that skirt. I don’t plan on ever wearing it. I just want to have it,” she said.
“Come on…” I took her up to Piper’s room. When I opened the door, she immediately broke down crying. Maddie was Piper’s best friend. She came over to dinner a lot but we never talked. I never talked to any of her other friends. Most of her friends thought I was weird, but everyone in high school thought I was weird. Maddie was the only friend who had actually tried with me. She said hi. I would say hey—that was the sum of our relationship.
“It’s like…”
“I haven’t touched anything. I don’t plan on it,” I said.
“Oh God. All her stuff. Her clothes are everywhere,” Maddie said.
“She couldn’t figure out what to wear to school that day. She was listening to Britney Spears. She was too busy dancing around…so this is what her room was like.”
“She was so happy and excited.”
“Yeah, it was definitely the earliest she ever woke up. I heard she was telling everyone in school about the play.”
“She asked the teacher to make an announcement. She did it in all her classes.” Maddie sat down on Piper’s bed.
“Yeah…the library was the last time I saw her. Lunchtime. Twelve hours before she died. Well, maybe not exactly, but it was way too long,” I said.
“Oh my God.”
“And it was only for five seconds. I had no idea those were going to be the last five seconds I was ever going to have with her…” I trailed off.
Maddie came over to hug me. I backed away from her.
“Find the skirt.” I nodded at Piper’s closet. She began looking through it.
“Portia…” Dad was coming up the stairs.
“Yeah, Maddie just wanted to grab something Piper said she could have.”
“Okay…I can’t handle all that downstairs. I’m going to take a nap,” he said.
“With a six-pack,” I mumbled. He had a six-pack of Heineken. He probably got it from one of his friends at the funeral. He grabbed one and gave it to me.
“Here…”
“Dad…I’m only seventeen,” I said.
“Our family is dead,” he responded. It had become a thing between us now. I had never drank before—not even a sip, but if it could help my dad deal with it…
“I found it,” I heard Maddie call, and went back into Piper’s room.
Maddie asked, “What were you doing?”
“Drinking a beer,” I said, holding it up.
“I’m really sorry, Portia. I’m here if you ever need someone to talk to,” she said.
I nodded and took a sip. It was disgusting. I lay down on Piper’s bed. I just kept asking myself why couldn’t they just have come home? Why couldn’t they just come home after the play? Why? We never got into car accidents. My dad was a great driver, especially with us in the car. I didn’t get it. Something wasn’t right. I knew death was not supposed to make sense and it happens and we’re supposed to deal with it. But how the fuck was I supposed to deal with this? How the fuck was I supposed to accept that my little sixteen-year-old sister had to die on the opening night of her high school play because of a goddamn car accident. The world could not be this cruel.
The beer tasted much better now.
“Knock, knock…” Dad said.
“What?”
“Everyone is gone. It’s just you and me.”
“Thank God. Can I have another beer, Dad?”
“I don’t know, Mom would be so disappointed and would have my ass,” he said.
“She’s dead.” We both headed down to the kitchen and saw that a lot of people had brought food.
“Oh my God. I don’t think Mom ever cooked this much.”
“There are brownies, salads, pasta…everything.” As we were looking at all the flowers, food, and leftover crap people brought, I saw a letter on the coffee table that said Portia. I froze.
“Dad. Dad.” I freaked.
“What?” he said, his voice muffled with his mouth full of potato chips.
“Who left that note?”
“I don’t know, I didn’t see.”
I picked it up. It was from Susan.
Dear Portia,
I’m so sorry about what happened. I’m taking over your mom’s advertising company. I wanted to tell you before you heard from someone else. I’m not replacing your mother by any means. I loved her. She was my best friend and taught me everything I know. I’m going to make sure this company thrives in her name. She loved you more than anything. She talked about you all the time. She was worried about you. I want you to be able to go for your dreams in your mother’s honor. Go to UCLA—your tuition will be paid for. Stay at the house if you like—the mortgage will be paid for. Get an apartment near school or live on campus, do whatever you want. Gary and I are here for you. We love you. Please don’t hesitate to call us if you need anything. I won’t be a stranger in your life. I will always be there for you.
Love,
Susan
Chapter 15
Susan was Mom’s best friend, the company should go to her. It was nice that she was willing to pay for everything. I was just so happy we got to keep the house. Mom and Piper were still here with me when I was in it. I didn’t ever want to leave.
“It’s a letter from Susan,” I said.
“She was just here, why did she leave a letter?”
“I don’t know. I was in Piper’s room.”
“So…what did she say?” he said, and plopped down on the couch.
“She’s going to take over for Mom—for work and us.” I read the letter over again because I was sort of in shock. I sat on the edge of the chair across from Dad and sat the letter on the table.
“What does that mean? She’s not living here. I’m not sharing a bed with her.”
“Dad! No, she’s just going to pay for our house because I know you didn’t pay for the house. She’s going to send me to UCLA. Remember when I got in? Everyone was so happy for me.”
“Yeah…I’m glad that it could still work out. And who told you I didn’t pay for the house?” He got defensive.
“Piper overheard you and Mom fighting about it in your room. She was scared that you guys were going to get divorced, and she woke me up so I could listen.”
“Damn it! So my baby girl knew, too.”
“Dad, it doesn’t matter. Mom was the one with the job.”
“I had a lot of jobs, you know. I wanted to be the working one. Her job just made more money than mine did. She didn’t want to hire nannies, so it was up to me.”
I got up from the chair and sat closer to him on the couch.
“Dad, no one cares. Do you really think I care that you didn’t pay for the house because you’re the dad?”
“I wanted to make sure you guys grew up knowing I was the provider,” he said.
I laughed. “Wow. So you were going to raise us to be sexist. It’s 2010. So what?”
“Thanks, sweetie. What do you have to do for UCLA?”
“I don’t even know right now. I have a couple months to figure it out.”
“Until then, we mourn.” He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of nowhere.
My mouth dropped. “Where did you get those?”
“My secret hiding spot…under the cushions. Since when did you ever see Mom relax on this couch?” He smiled as he pulled a cigarette out with his mouth.
“Never. I never really saw mom relax at all now that I think about it.”
“You’re going to smoke in the house now?”
“Yup, want one?” What the hell was going on? First, he gave me a beer. Now, he was giving me a cigarette? He must really be hurting. I felt so bad.
“I don’t know how to help you, Dad,” I said.
“I don’t know how to help you. I just know this helps me,” he said.
I grabbed it from him. “What do I do?” I asked.
“Put it in your mouth like this,” he said as he grabbed another cigarette and put it between his lips. I did the same. I put it way too far into my mouth at first. He grabbed it and fixed it.
“Just lips. Just press it with your lips.” He lit it. “Slowly suck and inhale,” he instructed.
I didn’t slowly suck. I coughed. It was so disgusting. I had to spit.
“You didn’t do it slow enough,” he said.
“I’m good, Dad.” I laughed and passed it back to him. I didn’t know what to think. I couldn’t really tell dad not to drink and not to smoke. That’s what mom would say and I didn’t want to be like her. Or should I tell him not to because that’s what mom would do? I wanted my dad to feel better—physically and mentally.
For now, if this was it—so be it.
Two Years Ago
Ethan was still in school while he worked an entry-level job at my mom’s company. He described it like being everybody’s assistant. We were taking the child development class at UCLA. We sat in the back. Ethan took notes like a maniac. Whenever I looked over at him, I couldn’t help but giggle. This class was one of the only times we got to see each other. He was always so tired from work. He never wanted to go anywhere—which was awesome—but he definitely wasn’t himself, so I knew something was really wrong.
“Hey, you okay?” I asked one day as we were walking out of class. There were thousands of students staring at me because I was visibly pregnant. I wasn’t scared or panicked. You couldn’t say I was cured, but I was definitely capable.
Remember Page 15
