That’s exactly what I expected. “Uh, yeah.”
“Come on in, Mr. Christiansen and have a seat.”
She leads me into a small but cheery office. No desk, but two comfortable chairs that face each other.
“Oh, and you don’t get to lie down and fall asleep either, Mr. Christiansen.”
I laugh. She puts me at ease.
“So, just a bit about myself. I’m fairly fresh out of my residency. I trained at Bellevue and I worked a ton with substance abusers. That’s probably how you got my name.”
“And how did you know I was a substance abuser?”
“Look at you right now. You’re jittery. You’re rubbing your arms. You look like you’re withdrawing. Are you?”
“No. I did that thirteen months ago. I’m dealing with something altogether different now, which makes me want to use again.”
She asks me my personal history and we go from there. Two hours later, I leave. She wanted to give me a prescription for an antidepressant but I refused.
“No drugs.” I’m firm about this.
“Fine. It’ll be harder without them. Your need to fight is worrisome.”
“I can control it.”
“Ryder, Skylina has chosen her path. You have to decide if you want her in your life with the decisions she’s made. You can’t control her. You can only control yourself. And this is what it’s all about, isn’t it? You want her to stop this lifestyle of hers. You want her to quit enabling her mother. And while you’re correct in what you say, those are her choices and hers alone. Now you have to decide if you want her in your life as is. That’s what love is all about anyway. It’s taking someone just as they are. Without changing them. Taking them with all of their flaws. Because if she takes you, she’s not exactly getting the perfect guy, now is she?”
“No, she’s not. She’s getting a fucked-up piece of shit.”
“Now, I wouldn’t go that far. What I would say is that she’s getting a human being that has issues too. One that she won’t be able to control either.”
“But when we were together, I felt balanced.”
“And you knew about her. So what changed?”
My brain goes back to that day at Luna Park. The day she told me all about her life growing up. And how I wanted to protect her. How I ached inside for what she’d been through. And I tell Dr. Martinelli.
“Ryder, you figured out you’re in love with her. And that’s when you realized you didn’t want to share her anymore. Is that right?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“No, no guessing. What is it?”
“Yes, I love her.”
“Then tell her!”
“I don’t know if I can. Because I don’t think I’m good enough for her.”
Dr. Martinelli stares at me for a second. “So really it’s about your self worth then.”
“I don’t know.”
“Yes you do, Ryder. Tell me.”
I’m on my feet faster than I can even think.
Dr. Martinelli’s voice stops me. “Two things Ryder. We have to get to the bottom of this, and we will. Painful as it may be. It will help you in the long run. Will you hate me? Yes, at times. But in the end, you’ll thank me. The other—if you need me, call. Any time. Day or night. I’m available. Here’s my cell.” Her hand is extended and between two fingers is a card. It’s blank, with the exception of ten digits. “I mean it Ryder. Call if you need to talk. And I’ll see you in a week.”
I don’t ever want to come back here again. The first stop I make is the restroom, where I puke my guts out. She’s disturbed something deep inside of me that I don’t even care to begin the process of digging through. How the fuck am I going to get through this? This was a very bad idea.
ELEVEN
Skylina
Today is my birthday but I wish I hadn’t remembered. Mom is waiting for me when I get home. After the attack, I went home for a couple of nights, but then decided to crash at Jimmy’s, and then Cara’s. So now I’m back at home and she’s drunk, a bottle of vodka in her hand.
“Where the hell have you been? I’ve been waiting for you for two days. I’m out. All out.” No, ‘Happy Birthday, Skylina,’ for me.
Her hands shake and she rocks back and forth. As I look around I notice how dirty the place is. I was gone for two nights and she was able to trash the place this fast.
“Where’s your stash? You had plenty when I left here the night before last.”
“Don’t you question me, girl. I’m your mother.”
The cabinet where she keeps her stash is empty. Nothing. She had enough meth and crack in there to last her another week, at least. She must’ve given it to someone.
“Mom, what happened to your supply?”
“None of your damn business, girl.”
This is it. She just added that final straw. You know, it’s not the last straw that breaks that poor camel’s back. It’s the load he’s been lugging around for years and then finally some dumb jerk adds one more tiny straw, and doesn’t think it’ll matter. But it does. Boy does it ever. That poor creature’s spine snaps and he’s dead. Bam. Just like that. Well, this girl’s spine isn’t going to break. Instead, I stiffen the darn thing and walk up to my mom, snatch that vodka bottle out of her hand and throw it across the room. Then I grab her shirt by the collar and haul her ass off the threadbare chair her butt is planted on.
“Now you listen to me, Mom, and you listen good. I’m done. Through. This is it. I almost got raped a few nights ago. Dancing. In order to earn money to support your lousy drug habit. And then I got stabbed because I fought back. See?” I yank my shirt up, exposing my bandaged ribs. “But I’m not gonna do it any more. You understand what I’m telling you? I QUIT! I’m done with you and your damn drugged up ways. If you won’t go to rehab and get help, then fine. You get your own damn drugs. Cuz I’m not getting them for you any more.” I release her shirt and she falls back into the chair, creating a slight breeze. Jeez she stinks.
“You can’t mean that.”
“Oh, but I do,” I snarl. “I’m so over this crap, it’s not even funny. Sleeping with men, doing stuff that makes me want to puke. For this? Huh uh. I’m so done it’s not even funny. You want ‘em. You get ‘em yourself.”
“But Skylina, you know how much I need my medicine. Please, baby, help your Mama.” Her whiney voice grates on my very last nerve and it takes all my strength not to take a swing at her.
“My ‘Mama’ needs rehab. Not me buying her drugs. Get real, Mom. I’m over it all. And you smell like a skunk. When was your last shower?” I march into my room and start to clean it up. Then I look at my bed. Now I’m beyond pissed. I’m furious.
“Get out of here. How dare you bring men into MY ROOM. GET OUT OF THIS HOUSE!” My voice reverberates off the wall and my throat hurts from screaming so loud. She whimpers behind me, but I’m past reason. Once more, my hands latch onto her shirt and I push her out of the apartment. Then I lock the door behind her. She starts to pound and pound.
“Let me in, you whore. Let me in!”
I ignore her. She bangs all afternoon. My hands are gloved up as I rip all the sheets off the bed. Then I bleach everything in the bathroom and the rest of the house. Any surface that can possibly be contaminated, I put bleach to it.
The laundry room is two levels down, but I’ve no choice if I want clean sheets to sleep on and clean towels for my shower. Bundling everything up in the laundry bag, I head out. She’s lying in the hall as I leave.
“Let me back in,” she begs.
“No.” I march on past her and stay down there until my chore is complete. Then I return home and she’s still there.
“I need a fix, baby. Pleeeeeease. I’ll be good. I promise.”
“Then go to rehab. Cuz you’re not coming back here. Narcotics Anonymous isn’t far from here. They’ll help you. Go on. Scram.”
“Why you little bitch.” She tries to get up, but I’m back inside before she can manage it.
>
Then I break down and call Ryder.
“Skylina?”
Through my tears, I explain that I’ve kicked her out and she’s in the hallway on the floor. Withdrawing, most likely.
“What do you want me to do?”
“I don’t know. I don’t even know what to do with her.”
“Want me to come over?”
“Would you?”
“On my way.”
Thirty minutes later, he knocks and I open up.
“This isn’t good. She can’t walk.”
“Does she need to go to the hospital?” I ask.
“That would be my best suggestion.”
“Okay.”
He hails a cab and we take her to the hospital. On the way he asks what she takes. I tell him about the meth, coke and crack. Also the vodka.
“The alcohol withdrawal is the most dangerous. Let the medical staff handle the withdrawal. Then she’ll need to decide what she wants to do. And Skylina, you did the right thing.”
My mom smells so bad, I want to puke. “Gah, she stinks.”
“Yeah. I’ve smelled worse though.”
“Thank you, Ryder.”
He smiles.
I glance down and notice that I’m wearing my fuzzy bunny slippers. I didn’t even think to put on shoes. Ryder follows my line of sight and laughs.
“Nice.”
My failed attempt at a laugh prompts him. “It’s going to be okay.”
“She’s not allowed back in my house. I’m done with her. She let her nasty men sleep in my bed. She had sex in there with them.” I feel the bile rising up again. My hand covers my mouth as I force it back down.
My mom starts moaning. Her greasy gray hair hangs in strings around her face. She’s skin and bones and her skin is sallow.
Ryder’s hand is on mine, his thumb moving back and forth. Turning my hand over, I lace my fingers with his and hold on tightly. He responds. The cab pulls up to the emergency room entrance and we get out, Ryder carrying my smelly mother.
He’s just risen up dozens of levels in my mind. What kind of guy does this shiz? Most would run like their butts are on fire and not look back. I pay the cab driver and follow Ryder inside. He knows the drill because he explains to the lady at the window what’s going on in detailed terms. Someone wheels out a gurney and then takes my mom back. Now we sit and wait.
“Can I get you some water?”
“No, thanks.”
“Skylina, you did the right thing by forcing her out. Look at me.” My head slants up to his and his brilliant cobalt eyes grab mine. “Believe me, please. I know you don’t feel like it right now. But you did.”
“My anger took over, Ryder. I shoved her out the door. Literally. She yelled and screamed but I wouldn’t let her back in. Then I took all the nasty bedding and towels to the laundry room …” I shudder. His arms wrap around me and hold me against his warmth. My hands hug his waist and I bury my face in his chest. God, I love the way he smells. “What if she dies?”
“I doubt she will. But if she does, Skylina, this was her choice. You have to remember that. People make choices for all different reasons. She chose her own path. Remember that, babe.”
“I miss you, Ryder. Every day.”
His arms tighten their hold. My disappointment mounts when he doesn’t say anything.
“What happens next?” I ask.
He walks me through the steps, how they’ll keep her until she’s done with detox and then they’ll most likely recommend a rehab facility.
“Is that what you did.”
“Yeah. I went somewhere out of state, but there are places associated with the hospital. And then she’ll need to go to NA.”
“What if she refuses?”
“Skylina, that’s a very real possibility. And that’s what you’ll have to face. Are you strong enough to say no to her? Can you keep her from moving back in if she doesn’t agree to all of it? This is where tough love comes in.”
“Right now I hate her.”
“That’ll pass.”
The doctor calls my name. Ryder joins me. He pretty much repeats what Ryder told me. I leave him my cell phone number and tell him to call me when she’s ready to be released. I don’t want to talk to her until then.
“One other thing, Ms. O’Donnell. Your mother has liver disease. It’s from the alcohol abuse. She doesn’t need to drink anymore.”
“No surprise there, doctor.”
Ryder and I leave. We walk in silence. I feel bad about these thoughts, but I don’t want her to come home. Ever.
“You’ll change.”
“How did you know …?”
“Just did. And don’t feel guilty. You have every reason to hate her.”
Stopping, I turn and throw myself in his arms. “You’re the biggest reason. If not for her, I’d be with you right now.” Then I pull away and run all the way home.
Busying myself, I put the sheets back on the bed, but I know I’ll never sleep on it again. They’re balled up in my hands as I stare at them. The couch will be my bed until I can get a new one. Matter of fact, it’s time to dump this whole apartment. Hunting for a new one becomes my day’s obsession. I pour over online ads and make several appointments for the next day. These are all for 1 bedroom units. Mom is on her own. I’m leaving her with no place to live so she has no choice.
Later that afternoon J.D. calls and I tell him I quit. He’s not surprised, but he’s genuinely sad. And in a way, so am I. J.D. rescued me from Mikey all those years ago. He spied Mikey slapping me around one night and sent one of his bodyguards in and took me away forever. Mikey never came after me or bothered me again. J.D. offered me a job at Exotique-A, contingent upon my ability to dance. Then he put me to work in a safe environment, where drugs weren’t involved and all my customers were decent guys. Yeah, they have some weird fetishes, but they’ve never laid an unwanted hand on me or did anything I didn’t agree to. J.D. saw that I was well cared for and he also made sure I earned top dollar for my services. He allowed me to call the shots, too, as far as what I was willing to do. So I’ve had it pretty good with him.
“You ever change your mind, baby doll, you come see Big Daddy. He’ll help you out. You hear?”
“I hear and thanks Big Daddy. I’m gonna miss ya.”
“You too, doll baby, you too.”
Now I have to get a real job. This is what scares me the most. My education is absent. I never graduated from high school. Back to the computer. I check into what it takes to get a GED. Apparently I have to fill out some forms online, so I begin that lengthy process.
At about six in the evening, my stomach hollers out. Hellz, I haven’t eaten all day long. After checking all the cabinets and the refrigerator, I head out for a bite to eat.
There’s a pizza joint a few blocks away that makes awesome pizza. I walk inside and Ryder is seated in a booth, chatting with a very attractive dark haired woman. His brow is furrowed, like he’s upset about something. My legs are frozen. He looks up and our eyes lock. My breath jams in my lungs. My face tingles, maybe because I need oxygen. I don’t know. I do know I need to get the hell out of here. But my ferking legs won’t respond to my mental commands. Go legs! Move. NOW!
Oh, God, no! He’s getting up and walking toward me. And finally, praise Jesus, whatever vice grip was attached to my legs, releases and I turn and dart out the door.
“Wait! Skylina!”
Run, legs run! Go, faster! All I know is that I have to get away from him. Anything, I can handle anything: tossing my mom out on the street while she’s in withdrawal; almost getting raped; getting stabbed; quitting my job, my only source of income. But I can’t deal with seeing Ryder chatting it up with another woman. A beautiful woman at that. Now I understand why he didn’t respond when I told him I missed him. Oh God, I’ve made such an utter fool of myself.
Run, I keep telling my brain. And I do. Don’t know how long or how far. But when I stop, it’s dark. And I’m alone. On some deserted
street. In a section of town I’m unfamiliar with. Shiz! What have I done? My head darts around, hunting for a street sign. I spot one in the distance and head for it. Holy crap. I’ve run all the way to the end of Manhattan. I need to get back so I start jogging, and my side aches. Tremendously. When I’m close to home, I breeze through a grocery store and grab some items to eat. I don’t even make it out the door before I tear into the bag of chocolate covered peanuts. Damn candies have me so engrossed, I don’t even notice the large figure hunkered on my steps. He stands when I get there.
“Skylina.”
Gasp! Those damn candies are choking me now.
“Well shit.” He spins me, and puts his arm below my sternum.
Heimlich. He knows I’m choking.
Once, twice, and a gooey peanut flies out of my mouth. I cough some and then I turn and punch him in the arm. Hard. Right before I start to cry. What the ferk is wrong with me? I don’t want to cry. I want to act like I’m fine and strong and that I don’t care that he’s seeing someone else. But my stupid darn tear ducts won’t listen.
He grabs my hand and tugs me up the steps. When we get to my door he holds his hand out for my keys and I hand them to him without a word. I am such a weak pussy butt. I have no strength when it comes to Ryder and I hate myself right now.
We walk inside. He takes my groceries and puts them away. Then motions for me to sit. And like a stupid puppy dog, I obey. The only thing missing is a leash. I wonder if George would lend me his leash and harness?
He makes a glass of ice water and hands it to me.
“Drink.”
Why isn’t my tongue hanging out with my tail wagging and me panting? Of course, I drink the ferking water.
“Wanna tell me what happened back there?”
“No.”
“Skylina.” There’s a warning edge to his voice.
“You have to ask?” My snarky side emerges.
One side of his mouth curls up. “Uh, yeah. You see, I’m sitting in my favorite pizza place, having a meltdown with my shrink, and in you walk. And then you turn around and haul ass. Hell, Skylina, I couldn’t even keep up with you. You ever run track? You friends with Usain Bolt or something?’
Dirty Nights Page 15