Dear Tabitha

by Trudy Stiles

  I push myself away from the wall and weave back and forth down the block toward a cab. When I wave my hand to signal that I need a lift, the cabbie turns his lights off to indicate that he’s not in service. Fuck!

  As I walk by the cab driver, I flip him off. Yeah, he can suck it. How the fuck am I going to get out of here? I text Dax to meet me at the High Note. I need to get the hell out of here. Fast.

  I need to leave her behind. Leave us behind. It’s my past now. My heart is splattered all over her walls like the pools of blood I left on my basement floor eight years ago. Pops tried to kill me that day. She succeeded in killing us today.

  She ruined us.

  I need to get her out of my mind and heart.

  I just hope that I can.

  Past

  Age 7

  “TABBY. WAKE u-up…”

  I open my eyes and see Trina-Momma standing in my room. She’s my momma. She adopted me when I was a baby. She is so pretty, and I love her. It must be time for school. She’s singing me awake again.

  Eek! She’s tickling my toes.

  “Momma! Haha!” I giggle so hard I almost pee!

  “Sweetie, your breakfast is ready, and the bus will be here in a few minutes. C’mon, upsy-daisy Tabby!”

  She talks so funny to me. I love it when she sings my name. And rhymes. She’s the best. My room is the best. Everything is the best! My favorite picture is on my dresser, and in it, Trina is holding me tight. She calls that day my “Gotcha” day. She says that right before that picture was taken, a judge told her that she would be my momma forever.

  “Okeydokey, Momma!” I jump up and run as fast as I can down the hall to the bathroom. I have to pee so bad!

  When I’m done, Momma is waiting for me in the kitchen. She makes me the best breakfasts! Strawberries. Yummy!

  “Strawberries!”

  “Tabby, I know how much you love your strawberries. And they’re good for you.”

  Momma knows everything. She’s a nurse. She always tells me what’s good for me and what’s bad for me. Strawberries are good. She says that I’m strong and healthy. She’s really the best momma, and someday, I want to be just like her. I want to be a nurse and a super momma.

  “Thank you, Momma!” I hug her so tight to show her just how strong I am.

  “Honey, I need to remind you before you go to school that you’ll be in aftercare today. I put a note in your folder. Please don’t forget to give it to your teacher, okay?”

  “Yes, Momma. I won’t forget, I promise.”

  “Good. I’m working a few extra hours today so I can take off all day tomorrow for your birthday. I’ll pick you up at six o’clock. Are you excited?”

  “Yes!”

  Tomorrow is Halloween and my birthday. She is going to make my birthday so special, I just know it.

  “I’m picking up your costume tonight on my way home. The shop said it came in late yesterday. You are going to be a beautiful witch. Tabitha the Good.”

  My witch costume is white and pink and bubbly. I can’t wait! Momma says that I’m going to be the only pink witch in the whole town! I’ll be like a princess witch.

  “I’ll be magical, Momma!”

  “Yes. You will be absolutely magical and perfect.” She kisses me on my forehead. She loves me so much. It’s just Momma and me. She always tells me that we have the perfect family. I don’t have any aunts, uncles, grammys, or grampys. Just her. Trina-Momma. It’s me and her, and I love our family!

  I finish my cereal and strawberries. “All done.”

  “Okay, let’s get moving, Tabby. Your backpack is by the door.”

  I rush to pick it up, and Momma opens the door.

  She grabs me and holds me tight. She kisses my cheeks ten times!

  “I love you, Tabby. Have a wonderful day at school.”

  “I love you, too, Momma.”

  I hurry out the door super fast because the bus is waiting.

  I giggle as I skip across the grass and run to the bus.

  She waves to me as I find my seat.

  “Your mom is pretty,” Amanda says to me when I sit next to her.

  “Yes, she is. She’s perfectly pretty, Amanda.” I smile the biggest smile ever and press my face against the window. It’s cold on my nose, and the window fogs up when I giggle.

  Momma waves to me again. I wave back and press my hand against the cool window. She puts her hand over her heart and smiles so big.

  Off to school I go!

  ~

  My friend Amanda just left aftercare. We played all afternoon together. I’m the last one here tonight, but I don’t care. When I get home, I’ll get to see my new costume for tomorrow. It’s pink and witchy. I can’t wait.

  Mrs. Barnes is helping me finish my pumpkin craft. She’s helping me paint it before Momma gets here. She’s going to love it when I give it to her.

  I don’t know why I’m here so late tonight. The clock says seven o’clock. Momma said she would be here at six. It’s really dark outside, and it’s just me and Mrs. Barnes left here. She’s made a few phone calls, and she seems nervous. I don’t know why she would be. It’s dark outside, but there are adults here, so there is nothing to be afraid of.

  The phone in her office rings again. “I’ll be right back, Tabitha.”

  “Okeydokey.” I giggle. I love it when Momma says that to me, and I like to say it to other people.

  She’s gone longer this time, and when she comes back, she has someone with her. I don’t know this other person.

  “Tabitha?” The stranger-lady is talking to me.

  “Yes. That’s me.” I wave at her.

  She looks real sad, and I want to give her a hug. But she is a stranger, and Momma always says to be cautious of strangers.

  “Honey, Tabitha. I’d like you to come with me. We are going to Mr. Dawson’s office and we need to talk to you. Okay?”

  Mr. Dawson? Uh-Oh. What did I do? Jessie Clayton went to Mr. Dawson’s office last week, and he got in a lot of trouble. He wasn’t being nice to other kids, and we learned about bullies that day.

  “Why?” I start to cry. I didn’t do anything wrong. Why do I have to see Mr. Dawson? And who is this strange lady?

  “Am I in trouble?”

  “Honey, you aren’t in trouble at all.”

  Mrs. Barnes takes my hand. “I’ll go with you, Tabby. Would that be okay?”

  “Yes, please.” I don’t know what’s going on. I’m scared. I grab onto Mrs. Barnes’ hand really tight.

  When we get to Mr. Dawson’s office, the stranger-lady asks me to sit down.

  “Tabitha. We have something that we need to tell you. It’s not going to be easy to hear, and we need you to be strong.”

  I feel funny, and I can feel my heart beating real fast. Like a motor boat.

  “Okay…”

  Mr. Dawson doesn’t look angry at all. He looks sad.

  “Your mother, honey, she was in an accident tonight.”

  My heart hurts. It’s beating really, really, really fast.

  “Is she okay?” She’s a nurse, she’s strong, and she knows lots of doctors.

  “Oh, Tabitha, I’m so sorry. But she is not okay.”

  The stranger-lady grabs both of my hands and gets on her knees in front of me. Mrs. Barnes is crying.

  “Who are you?” I ask her. “You don’t know me or my momma.”

  “I’m Mrs. Snyder. I’m a social worker, and I’m here to make sure you are going to be okay.”

  Mrs. Barnes hugs me again.

  “Am I in trouble? Did I do something to hurt Momma?” I’m crying. What is happening?

  “Oh, honey, no. You did nothing wrong. It’s just… it’s just that your momma won’t be coming back. She was hurt really bad, and she’s… um… she’s in Heaven now.”

  “She’s coming back!” I scream. I scream and scream and scream. “She’s coming back! She loves me! She promised me that she would never leave me!”

  Mrs. Barnes and Mrs.
Snyder both grab my hands.

  “She didn’t want to leave you, Tabitha. It was an accident. I am so sorry.” Mrs. Snyder hugs me.

  “Momma. Momma. Momma!” Can she hear me? Can Momma hear me right now?

  I can’t breathe. Momma can’t be gone.

  My heart hurts so much, and it’s beating so fast. Mrs. Snyder’s lips move, and I can’t hear what she is saying.

  Something is wrong with my ears. I still can’t breathe. I try to cough, and it doesn’t work.

  “Momma.”

  I can’t see the people in the room anymore. I feel funny. The room is spinning, and it’s dark.

  When I wake up, I hope Momma is there.

  Present

  Age 24

  I CAN’T believe that I’m back in Philadelphia.

  Looking for her.

  Our tour ended a few weeks ago, and for the first time in almost two and a half years, I am home, if I can even call it that. Epic Fail is currently on break as we plan and prepare for our next studio album. We’re exhausted and sick of living city to city. It didn’t take much discussion to decide that we need some time to relax, so we are taking the next several months off from touring. I’m relieved to have some time to myself, but terrified by what I’m about to do.

  I spend my days wandering aimlessly around the city, and every time I go into the High Note, I expect to see her there with him, laughing and in love. I avoid every place that was ours, especially the bar, the park, and up until today, the bookstore.

  What was I thinking?

  I don’t know how I wound up at the bookstore today.

  But here I am, determined to confront her. Show her that I’m over her. Tell her that I am back and that I’ve moved on with my life. A good life, without her.

  But these are all lies. I’ve been lost and alone without her for so long. I just can’t tell her the truth. How I really feel.

  This morning, I strode into the bookstore as if I owned it. I puffed out my chest and held my head high. I hoped to see her slumped on the couch, wallowing in misery and still feeling the same pain that I’ve felt for over two years.

  But she wasn’t there. My chest dropped, and I breathed out a big sigh. I somehow felt let down that she didn’t see me enter the store with the look of fire in my eyes.

  I scared the shit out of Kirsten, though. She seemed just as confused by my presence there as I was, but she didn’t ask me to leave. She told me to sit down and then brought me coffee. I also think she wanted to calm me down a bit before I did eventually see Tabby.

  After sitting in awkward silence while sipping our coffee, she quietly stands and walks behind the counter. Without saying a word, she comes back, presses a piece of paper into my hand, nods to me, and smiles softly, indicating it is time for me to go.

  Now I’m standing outside an unfamiliar doorway, clutching that same piece of paper as if it is my lifeline. I’m at Tabby’s new apartment.

  And just what the fuck am I doing here? I swore that I was done. It was one thing to walk into a public place with my pride intact, but it’s another to show up at her doorstep. I told her back then that she ruined us, destroyed us. That I wouldn’t be back for her and her lies.

  But here I am. My heart pounds as I try to muster the same fire that I had this morning when I entered the bookstore. The same anger that I felt when I saw them together. His hands all over her. I clench my jaw tight and close my eyes. I am failing miserably.

  No, I can’t bring that rage back. I just can’t. It scares me, and I’m afraid of what I may do if it takes control.

  I raise one of my fists, pause, and then knock softly on the door.

  My pulse speeds up and I panic. Fuck, I can’t do this. I need to get out of here. I can’t see her. I’m about to turn to leave when the door flies open.

  Tabitha. She stands in the doorway, still so fucking beautiful. My fake anger quickly drains from my body, and all I want is to pull her against me, to close the distance and gap of time these last few years have put between us. To feel her in my arms again.

  “Kirsten, I’m ready–” She stops speaking, and when she sees me and realizes that I’m not Kirsten, a look of terror covers her face.

  Stumbling, she backs away, her face pales, and she gasps for air. She glances down at my fists, and I realize that I look menacing right now. Fuck. I’m tense, and my hands are clenched.

  “Wait, Tabs…” I stammer, and she looks as if she’s about to have a full on panic attack. I didn’t mean for this to happen, did I?

  She retreats further into her apartment, clutching her chest and throat. Shit, she looks like she’s about to pass out.

  I rush into the room after her as she turns toward the bathroom. She trips, but recovers and starts to run faster. She gasps for air as she tries to get away from me. Fuck, again.

  She reaches the bathroom just as I grab her arm.

  “No!” She screams and tries to jerk her arm away from me.

  What does she think I’m going to do to her? I gasp, and let go of her as I realize she thinks I’m going to hurt her. Oh my god. What the hell am I doing? Did I really make her scared of me all of those years ago?

  I look down at my trembling hands, shake my head, and turn away. I would never hurt her. Ever. I did this. I put that terrified look into her eyes. I’m sickened by myself.

  She slams the bathroom door, and I flinch as the lock engages. My chest tightens, and now I’m the one gasping for air. I walk slowly backwards into the living room, until my legs hit the couch. I fall onto it clumsily, stunned by what just happened.

  I struggle to get a grip on myself, so I place my head in my hands and take deep breaths. I repeat this until I step off the ledge I just walked up to. I really didn’t want to scare her, or hurt her in any way. But I’ve managed to do both. Soft sobs coming from behind the bathroom door leave me frozen in place on the couch. My heart furiously pounds and I suddenly feel lightheaded and disgusted with myself. What did I think I was going to accomplish by coming here? Certainly not this.

  This is so much worse than I anticipated. She’s terrified and locked herself behind that door. She’s afraid of me. Oh my God, I need to fix this.

  I calm myself down again by pushing my hands through my hair and then cradling my head so that I can massage my temples to relieve the massive tension there. Why can’t I get enough air?

  What was I trying to accomplish by coming here? When I first laid eyes on her as she opened the door, the years apart melted away. Some of the pain even faded. She stood in front of me again, looking like she did in my dreams and I almost forgot about Seth.

  This is just an epic fail. Now I’m a mess, and need to escape. I shouldn’t be here at all. I need to pretend that this never happened, but I can’t leave her like this. What if her panic attack causes her to pass out? What if she needs my help? I did this to her. I need to fix it.

  The water turns on in the bathroom. Good, she’s at least still conscious. When it stops, I hear her tentative voice. “Alex?”

  I stand up, and slowly walk toward the bathroom. “Tabs, I’m here. God. I’m not going to hurt you. Please…” I say as I reach toward the door.

  “Why are you here?” Her voice falters through the still-locked door.

  “I – I don’t know.” I answer her truthfully. I want to tell her so much more, but my mind races in jumbled pieces. “Are you okay?” I ask softly, trying not to startle or upset her any more.

  Silence and muffled sobs answer my question. She struggles to compose herself, perhaps hoping that I’ll leave.

  I should go. But I can’t. Not yet.

  After several long minutes where I hold my breath waiting for her next move, the lock unlatches and the door slowly creeps open. She hesitates, then steps out of the bathroom. Her clasped, wringing hands show me she’s nervous and upset. In the past, I always grabbed her hands and massaged them when she got like this. Sometimes I would playfully sit on them or put them between my knees. I used to be able to
make her pain and nervousness go away. I have the sudden urge to grab her hands and soothe her. But I can’t. I don’t have the right.

  We stare into each other’s eyes, and God, hers no longer show terror, but pure sorrow. Tears streak her ashen face and her swollen lips still quiver.

  She looks so beautiful. I want to kiss away her tears and sadness, to pull her face close, run my thumbs along her lips, and then devour them, tug them into mine.

  My urge to comfort her suddenly turns to a deep need. Desire. She was mine once, and my soul suddenly feels as if she still is. My heart pounds in my chest for this girl who was my everything.

  Our eyes remain locked on each other, and I wonder if she feels the same intense pull as I do.

  “Why? How – how did you find me?” she murmurs as she looks away. Her eyes dart around the room, planning her escape route as if she expects me to come after her again.

  “Kirsten,” I answer. “I saw her at the bookstore today, and she gave me this.” I pull the crumpled piece of paper from my pocket and extend my hand to her.

  She steps forward and takes it from my outstretched hand. Our fingers brush and I have to force myself not to pull her into my arms where she belongs. She jerks her hand away. Did she feel it, too?

  She opens the paper and sees her address. Her eyes fill with confusion.

  “Why are you here?” she asks. “To find me?” She blinks and tilts her head in disbelief.

  “I don’t know, Tabs.” I’m not sure what I thought I would accomplish by seeing her. I don’t want her to feel pain. To cause her pain.

  And now, I don’t want this space between us. I need to feel her breath on my skin. Her warmth.

  I stay firmly planted in place as I fight the urge to go to her.

  “You must know, Alex. You came here. Tell me. Why are you here?” Her voice raises in anger. “Why?” Her soft, tender eyes harden. Her brown eyes almost turn black. This Tabitha is different from the one I left a few years ago.

  “Tabs.”

  She affects me in a way I never would have imagined. I don’t know what to say to her. My whole reason for being here disappears.