Leaving Paradise

Page 29

"Give them back," she says, pulling the bottle from my hand and clutching them as if they hold her sanity.
"You can overdose on that shit, Mom. It's dangerous."
My mom laughs, a throaty laugh so strong it makes her cough.
"Is that why you've been avoiding getting close to me. You've become a closet pill popper?" Damn, why didn't I see this before?
"It's not in the closet anymore, is it?"
"Does Dad know?"
"What do you think? It's the only way I can keep a smile on my face all day. He doesn't like to think about the bad stuff. He's too busy. I've been a failure, haven't I? A terrible wife, a terrible mother ... it's no wonder I was kicked out of the Ladies' Auxiliary."
"Stop caring what everyone thinks!" I yell. "You're killing the entire family."
"Did you think about the entire family when you hit Maggie?" she whispers, then huffs out a disgusted breath.
"This isn't about me, Mom." I don't tell her it never was about me.
She shakes her head. "You don't get it, Caleb, do you? There's four people living in this house and we're all strangers. It is about you. It's about all of us."
I don't even know who I am anymore. I thought I did, but with Maggie's betrayal I'm back where I started.
My mom turns to face the sink, her body shaking and wrought with despair. As I walk over and put my arms around her, I want to tell her I'll help her. I need help, too. But she stiffens as soon as I make contact. "Don't touch me."
I take my hands off her and back away. Everything around me is crashing into a million pieces. There's no way I can mend them no matter how hard I try. "Don't wait up," I grind out before leaving the kitchen and taking the stairs two steps at a time. I bang on Leah's bedroom door. "Open up."
"What do you want?" Leah says through the door.
I pound harder. "Leah, open this door or I'll break it down."
She opens it right before I'm about to kick it open. "What?"
"How long has Mom been abusing prescription drugs?"
She shrugs. "After you got sentenced. She stopped for a while, but started up again when you got released."
"How can you just stand there like it's no big deal?"
Leah stares at me and cocks her head to the side, her black makeup in stark contrast to her white skin, making her look like a mime. "When she's numb she doesn't ask questions."
Huh? I stare at my sister as if she's a ghost, a shell of a person I once knew. "Do you even have a conscience anymore?"
Leah shrugs.
I grab her shoulders and yell, "Leah, grow up and finally take responsibility for something ... anything!"
Tears start streaming down her cheeks. I shouldn't be satisfied that I'm making my sister cry, but I swear any emotion from her pleases me. I feel her emotions, too. But they're so conflicted with mine I can't be close to her. Not now. A part of Leah has always been a part of me. Her misery has become mine, and right now I want nothing to do with it.
She's sobbing while I leave the house and head down the street.
I walk ten houses away before I realize where I'm headed: Mrs. Reynolds' house. The lady is the only one who's tough enough to help. Maybe she'll let me live with her, in that little room above the garage.
Waiting twenty minutes for a bus to come to take me to Hampton seems like forever. When it comes and I take one look at the old lady's house, I feel like I'm home.
I ring the doorbell, hoping she can hear it. Maybe I'll install one of those bulbs that light up every time the doorbell rings, so if her hearing really goes she'll be all set.
The second time I ring, the door opens. But it's not Mrs. Reynolds, it's the guy who owns Auntie Mae's Diner. "Is Mrs. Reynolds home?"
"Aren't you Caleb Becker?"
"Yeah. I--"
"How do you know my mother?" he demands. I put my hands in my pockets. "I worked for her."
He hesitates, confused, then his mouth goes wide. "You built the gazebo?"
"Yeah."
"While Maggie Armstrong worked here? The both of you, together?"
"With Mrs. Reynolds," I assure him.
"Did she know you were the one that hit Maggie? Forget it, from the look on your face I assume my mother knew. She probably tried to patch everything up, didn't she?"
"Yes, sir. I need to talk to Mrs. Reynolds." She's the only one I have left now.
"She passed away yesterday morning."
No. No, this can't happen. A hole forms in my chest and spreads through my veins. "You're lying."
"My mother had a heart attack in her sleep. Now I don't know what's been going on here, but I know Maggie's mother doesn't want you hanging around her daughter. Respect the family and leave her be."
"No problem. No problem at all," I say.
FORTY-TWO
Maggie
Mom told me Mr. Reynolds had a surprise for me. I went to Auntie Mae's Diner after school and Mr. Reynolds gave me the keys to his mom's Cadillac. I protested, but Mom assured me Mrs. Reynolds would want me to have it.
So now Mom is driving me to Mrs. Reynolds' house on her break. She helps me open the garage. I smile when I see the car, remembering the time Mrs. Reynolds helped me get over my fear of driving.
"You sure you're ready to do this?" Mom asks.
"Yeah, I'm sure. Now get back to work. I'll be fine."
"Maggie, you've been so strong lately, but I don't know if you're ready for this."
It's time I tell her how I'm feeling. I've been trying to hold it in so I don't hurt her, when all along I think I'll hurt her more if I don't say anything. "Mom, I need some space," I say, then gauge her reaction. She's looking at me skeptically, but I can tell by the way her lips are together in concentration that she's listening and attempting to understand.
I take a deep breath and say, "I know it's hard for you. It's been unbelievably difficult for me ... but I'm finally ready to accept my body and my limitations. I'm me ... the new me. It might not be a perfect me, but I'm okay with that. It's about time I stopped trying to escape my life, don't you think?"
A tear runs down my mom's cheek. She smiles at me, this warm smile that reaches her eyes. "The accident... it took a part of you away."
"Only because I let it."
Now we're both crying. I give her a long hug.
After a few minutes she gets in her car and drives away from the house, giving me the space I need. Taking a deep breath, I scan the yard. And swallow hard. The gazebo is standing like a castle in the middle of the grass, outlined by the flower beds. The bulbs are patiently waiting in hibernation until it's their time to poke their heads out of the ground for the first time and vibrantly come to life.
After yesterday, I feel like I've bloomed. It took a romance and an old lady to coax me out of hibernation, but it happened.
As I'm carefully driving home, I see Caleb at Paradise Park at the basketball courts. I stop to let him know I'm not upset he betrayed me. I'll get over him. It might take a while, but I'm going to be just fine. I'll have other boyfriends and adventures in life, other times I'll be able to feel confident and carefree and happy. I'm a survivor. Even with my limp. Getting out of the car and gathering all my courage, I walk over to him.
He sees me, but doesn't stop dribbling the ball.
"Caleb," I call out.
"Why didn't you tell me about Mrs. Reynolds?"
"I didn't have a chance. I wanted to," I say, then step toward him.
"You better stay back or I might start harassing you."
Okay, I deserve that. I did slap him and refuse his help yesterday. But that was before I straightened everything out in my head. "I heard you got in trouble."
"You come here to rub it in or you want to challenge me to a one-on-one?" he says.
"You know I can't play."
He looks me up and down suggestively. "Oh, you play, Maggie. Maybe not basketball, your games are more complicated than that."
"What are you talking about?"
He takes the basketball and holds it at his side, then gives a short laugh. "I can't believe you're afraid of me."
I move forward, stepping closer to him and putting my chin in the air with confidence. "I'm not afraid of you."
He stands before me with as much confidence as I'm showing him. "Prove it."
"How?"
He tosses the basketball to the side of the court and steps toward me, closing the distance between us. "Figure it out."
My breath catches and I panic. "I ... I don't know what you mean."
"I think you do," he says, coming so close I can almost feel his emotions as my own.
"You want me to kiss you?" I ask breathlessly.
"You've ruined me, you do know that don't you?" he says right before I stand on my tiptoes and touch my lips to his.
He grabs my waist and pulls me close so I can feel the full strength and length of his body against mine. My fingers wrap around his biceps at the same time. I'm lost in the protection of his embrace and the smell and taste that's uniquely Caleb Becker. Uniquely ... us.
As our kiss turns more intense, I sense a change in him. He's kissing harder, fuller. Angry.
I stumble backwards and push him away from me. "What are you doing?"
He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. "Making sure I scare you. It's what you want, isn't it? So you can claim being the victim."
We're standing here staring at each other. Controller and controlled. Perpetrator and victim. Boy and girl.
He picks up his basketball. "Go home, Maggie. You got what you came for."
Movement out of the corner of my eye catches my attention, breaking the connection. It's Leah.
"Caleb, Mom and Dad want you home. Now," she says.
I smooth down my hair, pat dirt off my pants, clear my throat, and do everything but look at the two of them.
Then I run back to the car as fast as I can.
FORTY-THREE
Caleb
"You didn't tell her that I hit her, did you?" Leah asks J. as she watches Maggie run away from the park. I shake my head.
"But you and Maggie. I saw how you looked at her and I knew..."
"What?" I say quickly, then look my sister straight in the eye.
I start walking back home and my sister steps in beside me. "Getting mixed up with Maggie can ruin our family, Caleb."
"Lay off, Leah. I mean it." I turn to her. "I've just about had it."
When I get home, my parents are waiting for me by the front door. My dad is standing rigid, a stern look on his face. My mom is beside him. I can tell she's totally out of it.
"Where were you last night?" Dad orders in such a stern voice you'd think I was out committing murder. "Visiting an old friend. What's the big deal?" My mom looks at my dad. I hold my arms wide. "What?"
"I saw Maggie coming from the direction of the park," Dad says.
"So? It's a free country, Dad. People can walk where they want to."
My mom clutches her arms tight, grabbing on to her sweater. "We just don't want to see you get into trouble. People talk..."
"About what?"
"I don't want to discuss it," Mom says, then starts to walk woodenly back into the house, no doubt to numb herself again.