Ripple Effect

by J. Bengtsson

  Still without a cell phone, I used the bedside one to call Bodhi again, and as with every other time I’d tried to call today, it just rang and rang. Cursing, I returned the phone to the receiver and lay back in my bed. Where was everyone? Why weren’t they answering? With no connection to the outside world, it felt like I was trapped all over again, waiting to die. At least now I had morphine to numb the pain of their betrayal.

  Renato and my brothers showed up toward the end of visiting hours on my first day in the private room. Luis was wearing a Magic Mountain Six Flags t-shirt, so I had to assume they’d taken a detour to the amusement park before finally making their way to the hospital—five days late.

  My mother fussed over me when they arrived, playing the dutiful mother by smoothing down my wild, unruly hair.

  “Doesn’t he look wonderful?” she said.

  So ridiculously doting was she, I half expected her to lick her finger and wipe a smudge of dirt from my face.

  “Dude, you’re rockin’ the girly hair,” Luis said, tousling my overgrown tresses.

  I knocked his hand away. “And you’re rockin’ the cotton candy gut.”

  His smile faded. If he thought he could walk all over me in my weakened state, he was dead wrong. I’d never been one to back down from a duel, and it was more so now that I knew he’d chosen Batman the Ride over me.

  “Fuckin’ dick,” he mumbled, pulling his phone out and leaning against the window, ignoring me.

  Renato walked up and slapped me on the shoulder in greeting. “You had us all worried there, kid.”

  Uh-huh, sure I did. Worried I would live and he’d have to continue kissing my ass so he could be home during the days to watch Judge Judy.

  “Renato,” my mother tsked. “Don’t jostle him. He’s got a punctured lung.”

  “Did I slap him on the chest, Heather? No, I don’t think I did. Last time I checked, shoulders weren’t connected to lungs, so I think we’re good. Besides, RJ’s tough. Always has been, right, bud?”

  Bud? Since when had he assigned me a nickname?

  “Anyway.” Renato slapped me again on the shoulder. “Happy to see you up and breathing on your own.”

  “He still has the oxygen for a few more days. He just had a CT scan of his chest, and the lungs look better,” Mom said in a strange educational voice, like she was explaining a rotary phone to minors.

  That was when everyone began discussing my health over the top of me. I didn’t bother joining in because I didn’t appear to be needed. Manny settled into the chair at the end of the bed, his eyes trained on my bandaged leg like he wanted to say something but didn’t have the guts. That was the sort of relationship we had. He’d always been a follower, Luis’s shadow. Growing up, we’d hung out and had fun, but as soon as Luis came around, he’d fall right back in line like the rest of them. I’d come to despise him most because I knew he had a good heart, yet Manny openly denied it for fear of joining me at the tray table for dinner.

  Chewing on his nails, his eyes traveled the length of my body until they unexpectedly met mine. His widened before swiftly looking away.

  “Just say it,” I challenged, already feeling defensive after what Sue had revealed.

  “No, I…” He dragged his eyes back to mine but there was something different in them—genuine concern. “Are you going to be able to walk again?”

  I wasn’t sure why his question hit me like it did. It wasn’t so much what he asked… but how he asked it. Manny just wanted to know if I’d be okay.

  “Yeah, I’ll walk again.”

  “How long do they think it will take?”

  That was a good question, and one I’d been asking of the long line of medical personnel that came to my bedside near daily to prepare me for what was to come. And the main takeaway was that there was no quick fix on my road to recovery, no strapping on a new foot and going on my way. There would be wound healing and leg shaping and prosthetic fitting and physical therapy.

  And if Heather got her way, I’d be undergoing weekly sessions with the exceedingly calm psychotherapist, who’d described in detail the emotional aspects of losing a limb. I nodded, pretending to care, but truthfully, I was relieved it was gone. It had had to go so I could live—so Dani could live. Maybe down the road I’d feel its loss, but right now all I cared about was being alive. So, I played along with the charade knowing that once I got control of my medical decisions, Heather and the psychotherapist would be the first ones gone.

  “Depends on how fast my wound heals. Usually young, healthy people who lose limbs in accidents heal faster.”

  “Accident?” Luis scoffed. “You cut it off yourself.”

  “Because it was trapped between two concrete slabs, asshole!” Manny blasted our brother. The two glared at each other, making me wonder what was happening behind the scenes, a place I’d never been allowed. “You think you have the balls to do what RJ did? I don’t think so.”

  “I never would’ve been living in that piece of shit building in the first place. He’s got millions of dollars. Why the hell would he be hiding out there anyway?”

  “Maybe because you’re squatting in my house.”

  The room fell silent. Shards of fear could be seen on every face that wasn’t mine. If I pulled the plug, they’d have nothing. Not that Luis seemed to care in the heat of the moment.

  “I’m so sick of you always making us feel bad. You’re just so much better than the rest of us, aren’t you?”

  “He is better than us,” Manny exploded.

  “Speak for yourself, lapdog! You just don’t wanna get cut off—admit it.”

  “Shut up!” Manny rose from his chair and rushed Luis. “I’ve had enough of your shit.”

  “That’s enough,” Mom said through gritted teeth. “People are going to hear.”

  But no one was listening to Heather. Contentious words were exchanged, followed by fists and a disgruntled Renato stepping in to referee. It was around that point that security was called. I watched as the male members of my family were escorted out, with my mother hot on their heels, calling for someone’s head.

  “That went well,” I said to no one.

  A nurse rushed in, cursing my family under her breath for making her job harder. I lay back on my pillow and closed my eyes, trying to settle my racing heart. I thought of Albert and his dying words. He’d been scared but at peace. How was I ever going to achieve such solace at the end, with all this chaos in my life? The answer, I knew, was I couldn’t. Not in its current state of disarray. I had to purge myself of what was weighing me down, and there was no better time to cut the strings than now. I’d give them the house and the cars and the all shiny things that went with the life I’d financed for them for the last six years, but that was where it would have to end. It had taken me awhile to come to the realization, but now I finally understood—no matter how enticing it seemed, love could not be bought.

  I awoke to a commotion just outside my door. For a moment I was hopeful it was someone else’s drama, but then I heard my mother’s voice and knew it was mine, yet again.

  “You can’t do that!” she insisted.

  Oh, god. I hit my call button. I’d need an extra helping of painkiller to get me through this latest performance.

  Then came a familiar voice from out in the hall. “It’s already done.”

  I shot up in bed, my ribs howling in protest. But the pain was welcome because, for the first time in days, there was an end in sight. I’d been saved. Tucker Beckett was in the house!

  “I have a signed contract,” Mom said. “I demand you force this man to leave. And take the rest of his posse with him.”

  “Ma’am, you need to keep your voice down. There are sick patients in this ward.”

  “Yes, Heather, please keep it down,” Tucker replied in that smug tone that always made me want to punch him in the face. But not today. Tucker could be as condescending as he wanted to be because he was here to end the insanity.

  “No!” my
mother said as the door rattled. I pictured her grabbing whoever was trying to enter. “You are not allowed in.”

  “Mrs. Contreras, we’re RJ’s legal counsel. You need to step aside.”

  Lawyers, even? Damn, Sue would’ve loved this episode of my soap opera life.

  A man and woman in matching navy-blue suits entered my room.

  “RJ,” the woman said, smiling as she approached. “I hear you called.”

  “I did. What took you so long?”

  “Oh, no, you don’t,” my mother said, stomping her way in and stepping between them and me. I might have been touched by her devotion had it not been so self-serving.

  The lawyer pointed in her direction. “That’s what took me so long.”

  “RJ is not well enough to make decisions at this time. I demand you leave right now.” But her words were hollow. She’d been defeated, and she knew it. All she was doing now was holding on to the last little bit of hope.

  The woman in the suit ignored her as she addressed me. “I’m Mariyah George, and this is my partner, Barry. We work for your former manager, Tucker Beckett. He’s informed us that you’d like to dissolve your current advanced directive and relinquish Heather Contreras as your designated decision maker in medical matters. Is that correct?”

  “Yes. That’s correct.”

  “RJ, listen to me. You don’t understand. I’m doing this for your health. For your future. Once they release you, I’m going to bring you home to Idaho and nurse you back to health. Why do you always have to be so stubborn? You just fight, fight, fight. It’s exhausting. I’m doing everything I can to hold on. I know it’s a big ask, but if you just give us a chance, we can be a family again.”

  She could not be serious. Now? She wanted to be a family now? “You’re about two decades too late, but nice try there, Heather.”

  “Don’t call me that!”

  “Why? It’s your name.”

  Her eyes filled with tears. “I’m your mom.”

  “That title needs to be earned.”

  She winced. “Listen, I recognize that you were treated poorly at times. I own that. And I know you probably don’t believe me when I say I’m sorry.”

  “See, that’s the thing. You haven’t said it. You’ve never apologized.”

  “I’m sorry, okay? I was a bad mother. Is that what you want to hear? I’m sorry. I failed you, but there are things you don’t know. Things even Renato doesn’t know.”

  Now she had my full attention. “Then tell me.”

  She shrank back. “I can’t.”

  “You’re asking me to go home with you when you can’t even tell me the truth? That’s rich,” I said, angry I’d even given her the opportunity to explain herself. “Give me the contract.”

  Mariyah set it down on the tray and handed me a pen. She pointed to the line I would need to sign to sever ties with this woman forever.

  “Go ahead,” my mother said, slumping against the wall. “Sign it. But please don’t cut me out of your life. Please.”

  Setting the pen back down, I stared up at her. “Why? Why do you even care? Is this about the money? The house? The gym membership? What is it? I don’t understand.”

  “It not about any of that. It’s about you and me.”

  Now I knew she was manipulating me. “There is no you and me. There never was.”

  Picking the pen back up, I signed my name.

  Mom’s lip quivered, and she whispered, “He didn’t want me.”

  “What?”

  This time she said it louder. “He didn’t want me.”

  “Who?”

  “Dalton.”

  “Who’s Dalton?”

  “Your real father. He didn’t want me.”

  “You knew him?” Anger exploded in me. “You knew who he was this whole time?”

  Tears rolled down her cheeks. “I lied about everything, RJ. Your father wasn’t some random traveling musician. I did know him. Since elementary school. I had such a crush on him from the time I was little. But he was beautiful and popular and everyone loved him. Like you. And I was scrawny and poor and wore dirty clothes to school. I thought he would save me. My prince. For years I tried to get him to notice me. And finally, one time he did. He took my virginity in my friend’s parents’ bed at a party when we were sixteen. He never talked to me again.

  “Fast forward ten years. I saw a flyer with his picture on it and knew he'd be at the bar performing that night. When I went up to talk to him after the show, he had no idea who I was. But one thing led to another, and… well, you know that part of the story. I told him I was protected, but I wasn’t. Anyway, I contacted him after becoming pregnant. In my warped mind, I thought he’d be happy. That he’d finally want me. I had my bags packed and everything. I was all set to leave Renato and the boys and ride off into the sunset. You. Me. Dalton. One little happy family.”

  “But he didn’t want you…” I finished the unhappy tale for her. “Or me.”

  “No. He didn’t. Dalton accused me of trying to trap him. And he was right. I thought he’d finally see me, you know? But he didn’t. He sent some money and demanded I get an abortion. And I was going to do it, too, but Renato figured out I was pregnant, and he was so excited. I thought maybe it would all work out. I could pass you off as his and have a lasting reminder of Dalton to love and cherish forever.”

  “Sounds awesome, Mom, but something went tragically wrong because I don’t ever recall any love or cherishing going on.”

  “Because Renato never accepted you. And because he didn’t, your brothers didn’t. I could either stand by your side outside of the circle… or reject you and be loved.”

  Her words. Did she not realize how much they stung? What she’d done was the equivalent of dumping a box of unwanted kittens on the side of the road. She’d forced me to fend for myself, and for what?

  “We could’ve made our own circle, you and me.”

  “Yes.” She choked up. “I know.”

  My mother reached out to me, sliding her fingers over my face. I jerked away. “Don’t.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, RJ. I was selfish and bitter. I hated your father for what he’d done to me. And you… you looked and acted so much like him. Strong. Beautiful. Talented. You’ve always stood out in a crowd. Everything that attracted me to Dalton in the first place—that was you. But, like him, you also have that same arrogance. That air of being better than everyone else. Dalton made me feel small and insignificant. Just like you’ve always done.”

  There it was again. The accusation that I thought I was better than them. If that was true, it was only because they’d forced me to compete, Hunger Games style, for their attention. I had to be the best—for my survival.

  “I make you feel small?” I gaped. “Are you hearing yourself? I was a kid! I would’ve done anything to be accepted by you and the others… to be part of your tribe. Anything. You pushed me away, not the other way around. And not only that, you turned Luis and Manny against me. Ruined any chance of us ever being real brothers.”

  “Your brothers don’t hate you. They’re intimidated by you. Even Renato. I think he always knew you were destined for greatness. It’s just… people like you, RJ, people like your father… you can never understand what it’s like to always need polishing.”

  I shook my head, pissed. She was putting this whole thing on me. A quick glance at our lawyer audience told me they thought the same thing. Both of them stood glaring at my mother.

  “I know it sounds like I’m blaming you,” Mom said, breaking the silence. “But I’m not. I know this is all on me. I did this. I’m just trying to get you to see.”

  “See what?” I exploded. “All I see is that you condemned me for the sins of my father. You know how you could have mitigated that—made sure I didn’t turn out like him? You could’ve raised me with humility and love. You could’ve taught me values and respect. You could’ve been my mother.”

  “I know. I know.” Again, she reached for me.
Again, I shunned her. “I’m so sorry for all the hurt I’ve caused you. I truly am. When you were feared dead, I was devastated. I guess I always thought I’d have time to make it up to you. And then when they pulled you out alive, I realized I’d been given a second chance. But I knew you wouldn’t allow me to nurse you back to health, so I used the medical directive to try and make it up to you.”

  “Make it up to me? You took the hospital to its knees. You blocked my friends from coming to see me. And you insulted Beyoncé. How could you ever think any of this would go your way?”

  Her shoulders slumped. “I don’t know. Sometimes I don’t think. Look. I’ll leave. Give you the space you obviously need. But please don’t cut me out of your life. Please, RJ. I’ll do anything.”

  “Why? Why do you care now?”

  “Losing you…”

  “No. Why? Tell me the truth. If I lived in your town and was a gas station attendant or a grocery clerk, would you be begging for my forgiveness? Be honest, Mom. If I wasn’t famous, would you even be here right now?”

  Our eyes met, and in that moment, we both knew she wouldn’t. There was nothing left to salvage between us. Maybe someday I’d have a family, but it wouldn’t be this one.

  “Just go.”

  “RJ…”

  “I’ll pay off the house and give you a one-time severance payment. But I’m not supporting you anymore. It’s time the four of you got jobs.”

  She dropped her head, resigned.

  “And I swear to god, if you’ve screwed anything up with Dani...”

  “I haven’t. That woman is like a boomerang. You fling her away and she just comes right on back. There’s no getting rid of her.”

  The moment was so tense, but I nearly burst out laughing. Boomerang. Yep, that was Dani.

  “I’ll let myself out,” she said, already walking toward the door.

  “Before you go…”

  She didn’t let me finish. “His name is Dalton Krause.”

  “Does he know who I am?”

  Her step faltered. “Yes. I sent an email to his business after you hit it big in AnyDayNow.”

  “And?”