If she took the sleeping pills too, she could fall into oblivion. Sleep off the headache. What harm would it do?
The faces of her family and her friends, followed by Noreen, Caroline, Sam and Eileen, all formed a queue to shake their heads at her.
Her phone beeped, making her jump. It was Dylan checking up on her. She threw the duvet over the pills then shook her head at her stupidity. As if he could see what Greta was thinking about doing through the phone!
Dylan: I’m sorry if that was weird. Are you OK?
Greta: I’m fine! Enjoy your night. I’m going to sleep now. You’re a good friend.
What would he think if he knew that she was contemplating taking a pill right now? A feeling she’d forgotten about stepped back to say hello. Shame. She could message Dylan. Tell him to come to her room, take the pills from her, talk her down from making a stupid mistake. She flicked on Instagram. What would Dr Gale do? Come on, send me a sign.
Dr Gale would eat a bowl of salad, it seemed. A colourful mix of greens and berries filled the screen, with a post talking about living a clean life.
Greta scrolled on. The next photo was a close-up of Dr Gale, looking into the camera, eyes brimming with unshed tears. She looked in so much pain. Greta’s heart swelled in sympathy. Never had she identified more with Dr Gale. She was suffering right now, just like her.
Drgretagale Are negative thoughts in your cupboard today? I’ve had a bad day too. It doesn’t matter why, but it’s made old issues creep back into my cupboard, multiplying until they are spilling out into every part of my life. It’s time for me to replace negativity with words of affirmation of love. I’m taking back the power. I am a good person and I am worthy of love. Tomorrow I am going to wake up stronger, surer.
#wellness #drgretagale #whatsinyourcupboard #mindfulness #inspire #drgretagale #positivethoughts
She’d asked Instagram for a sign, and it appeared she had received one loud and clear.
Then a new photo appeared on her newsfeed. It was a photo of Greta in Georgetown.
@Dylan1234 Silver Lady and the Silver Queen – Georgetown – together. No filter. Natural beauty shines through every time.
#Nofilter #Georgetown #roadtrip #goodfriends
Was that really her? The woman in the photograph was laughing, eyes bright, nose pink, wrapped up in winter woollies. More than OK. She looked pretty. Maybe it was time to take back the power. She placed the sleeping pills back into her handbag, then fell into bed fully clothed. Dylan’s post had said #goodfriends. And that’s what they were. It was better that way. Anything more would be complicated. She was so damn tired, the thought of getting into her pyjamas felt like too much effort. She closed her eyes and let the dreams take her where they willed. And somehow she got through the night.
She awoke to her stomach grumbling angrily at her. She’d not eaten much the previous day, and food was calling her. Guessing the others would be sleeping off hangovers, she decided to go down for breakfast on her own.
Halfway through her muesli, Dylan walked in, his hair tousled. His shirt was buttoned up one button wrong all the way down. He always looked somewhat bedraggled, yet he got away with it.
‘How’s the head?’ he asked.
‘I was just about to ask you the same thing,’ Greta replied.
‘I’m grand. I stopped after the fourth pint. Your uncle and Billie were still going strong when I left, listening to Brandon telling them about how he gave up a corporate job to smoke weed and ski.’
Then, as if Dylan had conjured them up by mentioning their names, Billie and Ray walked into the breakfast room, both wearing sunglasses.
Greta picked up a phone and took a photo. ‘This I’m sending to the family.’
‘Stop speaking so loud,’ Ray said, sitting down beside her. ‘You OK? You slipped off last night before I knew it.’
‘I’m grand,’ Greta said, flushing red as she thought about the sleeping pills she’d bought. ‘I hear you had a good night.’
‘I could kill Brandon,’ Billie said. ‘He talked us into smoking a joint with him. I am way too old for this.’
‘Uncle Ray!’ Greta exclaimed.
‘I told you not to say anything, Billie!’ Ray said. ‘Honestly Greta, I only had a drag.’
‘Oh, that’s what they all say. Slippery slope, Uncle Ray. You’ll be at NA meetings with me next.’
‘It was the first and last time. Seemed like a good idea at the time,’ Ray said.
‘A day in Monument Valley will put us right. Next stop on your wish list,’ Billie said.
‘I can’t wait to see Forrest Gump Point,’ Dylan said.
‘And the Goulding’s Lodge. It’s where The Searchers was filmed. And Tie A Yellow Ribbon. I loved John Wayne when I was a kid. I wanted to be a cowboy so bad,’ Ray said.
‘Dad loves those movies too,’ Greta replied. ‘Anything by John Ford and he’s all in.’
‘We used to play Cowboys and Indians together when we were kids,’ Ray said, smiling at the memory. He’d forgotten that. Yes, there were times when he and Stephen didn’t get on in their childhood, but they’d had fun when they were kids too.
They finished breakfast then checked out. Greta offered to drive, so Dylan sat up front beside her, leaving Ray and Billie to nod off in the back underneath their sunnies.
As they said goodbye to Moab, the sun came out and followed them all the way to Monument Valley. It was hard to believe that only the previous night they’d had a white-knuckle ride in a snow storm. Monument Valley, which sat within the Navajo Nation Reservation, was located on the Utah–Arizona border, so they added another state to their road trip too.
‘Wow,’ Dylan and Greta said at the same time.
Blue skies and white clouds floated about the red rock. And three massive monoliths seemed to erupt from the red clay, extending the landscape like a panoramic postcard until it touched the horizon. Greta pulled into a layby on the right and climbed out of the car, shouting at Ray and Billie to wake up.
‘It’s …’ She tried to find the words.
‘Majestic,’ Dylan said, standing beside her.
‘The place where God put the West,’ Ray said, joining them. ‘That’s what John Wayne said about this place.’
‘I feel humbled,’ Greta said. ‘I’ve never seen a place where the sky and the ground come together so perfectly. It looks like someone has painted the landscape, doesn’t it?’
They stood side by side, awe at Mother Nature’s handiwork rendering them silent. They drove on for another mile and then suddenly they were at Forrest Gump Point. A long stretch of black road ran towards the three red monoliths, which today wore a snowy cap. Greta pulled over once again, and they walked to the centre of the road, their eyes locked onto the vista before them.
‘I keep expecting galloping cowboys and Indians to arrive,’ Ray replied.
‘For me, it’s Forrest running up the road, with a gang of disciples following him,’ Dylan said.
‘If I was going to stop running, this is where I’d choose to do it too,’ Billie said. ‘It’s damn near perfect.’
‘It’s as if we are the only people left on the planet,’ Greta said. Not a single person or car was in sight. Which meant that they could take as many photographs as they wanted in the middle of the road, without fear of being run over. Reluctantly they moved on and found the road to Goulding’s Lodge. Ray, their unofficial tour guide, told them that it was Harry Goulding and his wife Leone who brought Hollywood to the valley back in the 1930s. They ran a trading post, and things were tough for the Navajo Indians who were starving to death in the valley. Harry travelled to John Ford’s office and waited three days to see him, eventually persuading him to visit their ranch, saying it was the perfect location for Westerns. And the rest was history, with hundreds of movies filmed on site because of his vision and determination.
They walked around the small museum in the ranch, which only accepted donations for payment. They took pictures of themselves wi
th an old stagecoach and posed beside a large cardboard picture of John Wayne.
Then they walked up the steps to the ranch café and took a seat by the window. Greta wasn’t sure if it was the panoramic views or the food, but her tuna sandwich was the most delicious thing she’d ever eaten.
As they sipped their drinks, none of them felt in any rush to leave. ‘I’ve seen The Searchers at least a dozen times. I never thought I’d ever see the cinematic canvas John Ford immortalized, in person. I’m quite … overwhelmed,’ Ray said.
‘Overwhelmed is a good word,’ Greta admitted. She knew she would struggle to share how much this place had affected her. Every part of the trip had changed her, but never more so than right now. ‘We’re just tiny specks in the universe, aren’t we?’ she said, pointing to the majestic red rock towers.
They all nodded in agreement, feeling the same awe-inspiring emotions as her. It was another moment in their lives that would bind the four of them together.
‘I’ve not been living my best life. I want to do better,’ Greta admitted.
‘You are doing better,’ Billie said. ‘All you can do is keep putting one foot forward each day. You’ll get to where you need to be.’
‘I think sometimes I take one step forward and two backwards,’ Greta admitted, her eyes on her handbag, which still held the sleeping pills. Why hadn’t she thrown them away yet?
‘If heaven exists, do you think it looks something like this?’ Billie asked.
‘I hope so. I’d happily end up here,’ Ray said.
‘Do you think if you do one bad thing in life, does it wipe out all the good things you’ve done?’ Billie asked.
‘It depends how bad that one thing is, I suppose,’ Greta replied.
‘How about if you killed somebody?’
Chapter 33
Maybe it was the Valley, maybe it was the company, or maybe it was just time. But Billie was ready to tell her friends about what had happened over twenty years before.
‘My dad was a good man. He loved his girls as he called Mama, Piper and me. We were his whole world, that’s what he used to say.’ She closed her eyes and could see her father, Norm, standing behind the three of them, somehow managing to wrap his arms around each of them. Keeping them safe.
‘What happened?’ Ray asked.
‘His Achilles heel was alcohol. If he succumbed to temptation and had even one drink, a physical change overcame him. And the net result was that he lost every shred of decency in his body. It was as if all his good sense drowned in the bubbles of the beer in front of him.’
Billie told them about the many incidents throughout Norm’s adult life that had illustrated how poor his judgement was when he had even the smallest amount of alcohol. He threw up in the mayor of Cawker City’s garden on his prize petunias one summer evening. He was only eighteen at the time and had just had three drinks. He swore off beer for many years after that. But after the birth of Billie, his eldest child, he succumbed to the cheers of friends who wanted to wet the baby’s head. He didn’t remember the walk home that night. But the next day he was accosted by the school principal, who berated him for peeing in the town square on his way home. In the process, he had flashed a group of eighth graders who were on their way to the library. Parents were involved. His mortification at having caused such embarrassment and fear to children made him vow once more not to drink ever again.
‘He kept his vow not to drink for over twenty years. But then he had a row with Mama about the stupidest of things – he forgot to unload the dishwasher. She said he went to his office Christmas party, to spite her. Several hours later, drunk and one hundred per cent not in any condition to drive, he jumped into his SUV and he headed home. I don’t suppose we’ll ever know what happened. And it doesn’t matter in the end.’ Billie sighed, wiping a tear that escaped. ‘He ploughed his car into a bus shelter on the outskirts of Cawker City.’
Greta thought about Mrs Oaks’s flowerbeds and the blood dripping down her mother’s face. Oh Norm.
Billie took a sip of her coffee, steadied herself then continued, ‘They cut him out and transferred him to Cawker City Clinic Medical Centre. But by the time they got there, he’d died.’
‘Jesus,’ Dylan said.
‘There’s more though, isn’t there?’ Ray said. ‘You said that someone was murdered.’
‘Dad didn’t just kill himself that night. He killed my best friend Mary-Beth and her boyfriend who were sitting in the bus shelter. Probably having a sneaky kiss before they went home. So I didn’t just lose my dad that night. I also lost my best friend and our family’s good name. Norm Haley became the bogeyman, the slayer, the taker of young lives. The ripple effect tore us all apart.’
‘That’s why you stopped writing to me,’ Ray said, and Billie nodded.
‘My sister Piper left Cawker City and married the first man that asked her. I’m convinced it was purely to change her surname. The marriage didn’t last more than six months. Since then Piper has added a further two marriages and divorces to her arsenal.’
‘All your plans to spend a year travelling through Europe—’ Ray said.
‘Gone in a click of my fingers.’ She snapped two digits to illustrate. ‘Mama turned to food for comfort. Unfortunately, she’s never been able to fill the gaping hole of loss inside of her with carbs or sugar. She’ll die trying, all the same.’
There was nothing that any of them could say in response to this, so they didn’t try to fill the silence with trite condolences. They merely reached over and laid their hands over Billie’s, in one big pile of friendship. Most days Billie didn’t allow herself to think about the life she could have lived, had her father not drunk that night. But every now and then, she wept. Every tear filled with bitter regret.
‘Poor Susan,’ Greta said. She understood the pain she’d witnessed in Susan’s eyes now. How many times had she too tried to fill a void inside of her with food? But it never worked.
‘You know, the last time Mama was hospitalized, they had to get a special ambulance to bring her in. She weighs over four hundred pounds, which earns her the tag “super-super obese”,’ Billie said with a hollow, mirthless laugh. ‘Isn’t that bull crap? It makes her sound like some kind of superhero.’
‘Can the doctors not help? Gastro bands or something?’ Ray asked.
‘We’ve tried every kind of intervention. From doctors to psychologists. I even got the pastor in. Nothing worked.’
‘She’s an addict,’ Greta said. ‘You can’t make her stop eating, no more than anyone could stop me. Pills or food.’
‘But you managed to stop taking your pills,’ Billie said. ‘Why?’
‘I wanted to live more than I wanted to die.’
‘Shit,’ Dylan said on a sob. He wiped his eyes furiously with the sleeve of his sweatshirt, but as quick as he stemmed the tears, more erupted.
Greta moved closer to him. She was seconds from the ugly cry herself. Their waitress walked towards them with the coffee pot, then about-turned sensing a scene was unfolding.
‘Is that why you are so disciplined with your exercise and food?’ Ray asked. ‘Because of how your mama is?’
‘Maybe. The gym became my therapy. I liked it when my body became firm. And I suppose that when I bodybuild, I do it for Mama. For Piper. For my friend Mary-Beth too. And I do it for my papa who, despite being a good man most of the time, made wrong choices that had catastrophic consequences.’
‘Tttears are not the only indicator of someone’s pain and grief,’ Dylan said.
‘Amen to that,’ Billie agreed.
‘I wish you had told me back then. I would have flown over,’ Ray said.
‘I know you would have. But I wasn’t in a place that could accept help from anyone. We each dealt with the aftermath of the accident in our own way. Piper slept with any guy who asked her. Mama ate. And for a while, I drank. Like father, like daughter. Things got dark for a while.’
‘That must have been horrific for you,’
Greta said.
‘It wasn’t fun, I’ll give you that. But Lucy was great. And her late husband, too. If it wasn’t for them, I don’t think we’d have survived it.’
‘Did you think about leaving Cawker City?’ Greta asked.
‘Often,’ Billie admitted. ‘But with Piper out of the picture, I couldn’t leave Mama.’
She pointed to the remnants of the apple pie in front of Ray. ‘One of those every day will have you fifty pounds up at the end of a year. Within a year, Mama was unrecognizable as the woman she used to be. Fast-forward ten years and she rarely left the house any more. Fast-forward twenty years and the bedroom became her self-inflicted prison.’
‘What a waste,’ Ray said.
‘Sure is. But life has a way of messing with some folk more than others. Us Haleys have gotten their fair share of pain. Piper and Mama are still paying a high price for my papa’s sins.’
‘I think you might be too,’ Ray said.
‘Maybe.’ Billie shrugged. ‘Greta honey, you said that you are not living your best life. I think you are doing a darn sight better than a lot of people. Don’t forget that.’
Greta reached over again to clasp Billie’s hand. ‘So we just keep on taking a step forward, one at a time. Together.’
Ray placed his hand over Greta’s and said, ‘Together.’
Then Dylan placed his on top of the others’ and repeated, ‘Together.’
And while they didn’t know it in that moment, their pact would stay intact for the four friends for the rest of their lives.
Chapter 34
They left Goulding’s Lodge quieter than when they arrived. But stronger somehow, in the shared revelation from Billie.
‘Pull over!’ Billie shouted at Ray, who was behind the wheel again. ‘Look!’
A giant billboard sat on the side of the road.
Welcome to Utah. Life Elevated.
‘You want a picture with it?’ Ray said, stopping the car beside it.
‘No. It’s time for another session of Billie’s Boot Camp and I can’t think of a better place to do it!’
My Pear-Shaped Life: The most gripping and heartfelt page-turner of 2020! Page 24