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Hand of Thorns

Page 19

by Ashley Beale


  "Yes," His mom answers. "Come on, chop chop, both of you. Oh, you too Eleanor, you can help."

  The lift in Ellie’s eyebrow would suggest she’s none too impressed. She picks up the smallest plate and carries it into the dining room anyways. When they reappear, Richard stops in his track to take my newest platter. "You shouldn't be lifting your fingers. Sit down, let us do the hard work for you." He winks while I stare with confusion. Is he hitting on me, or simply being nice? Does he know about his brother and me? I assume not by the way he is acting.

  Maybe it’s simply a family trait of the Owens’ brothers.

  Ellie rolls her eyes in the background, grabbing another platter.

  To change the subject quickly, trying to ease Richard away from me, I ask probably the worse question imaginable- but it's the only thing I know about him. "So… how do you like porn?"

  Everyone freezes, the silence embarrassing me more than my stupid damn question.

  Richard tilts his head, staring at me completely amused. "Well, like any healthy American man, I'm a pretty big fan of it. Do I, uhhh, dare ask why you're asking me this? I mean, I still got a bedroom here if that's why you're asking." His entire face lights up in pure entertainment.

  I don't think I could get any more mortified, but I have to explain my reasoning so he doesn't think I'm asking him to watch porn with me, or do anything sexual. I definitely didn't bring it up for those reasons.

  "You're a porn star, right? Dick Fitzwell?"

  He stares at me, blinking, his face turning a pinkish hue while he holds back his laughter. "You think I'm a porn star?"

  I glare over to Leon who is using every single ounce of willpower not to erupt in outrageous laughter. I look back to Richard. "You're not? What do you do then?"

  He starts to chuckle. "Holy fuck, that is probably the best damn compliment ever." He slaps his hand against his thigh. "Damn, I wish I was. I'd love some Jenna Haze or something, but nah, I race dirt bikes professionally. I mean, I get some good hook ups, and sure I've definitely filmed myself before, but I'm no porn star."

  His mom slaps the back of his head with her dish rag. "That is no way to speak in your Momma's kitchen. Finish putting things away, and leave the poor girl alone."

  He winks while walking towards the dining room. "Sorry Ma. Didn't mean any disrespect.”

  Leon finally loses it when his brother leaves the room. "I forgot all about that shit," Leon chuckles. That is, until he looks over at Ellie whose arms are crossed against her chest, her toes tapping against the hardwood. "What?" He asks, confused by her sudden annoyance- but I understand it completely.

  "I need to talk with you."

  He sighs. "I'm helping Ma with some things."

  "I think this is more important."

  Sherilyn looks over at them, not at all too impressed. "You two go work out your issues while we finish up. It'll be ready in about ten minutes, then we can eat and do presents. Don't be late to my dinner table." I love that his mom is right to the point. She is extremely kind, funny, respectful, but she doesn't put up with shit. Basically the same kind of person I want to be as an adult.

  She eyes me curiously but doesn't say anything before pulling out the last thing from one of her three ovens. I hope she doesn't feel any abhorrence towards me, I already feel out of place with the rest of his family. She was the one that actually made me feel welcomed.

  We finish setting the table and everyone gets called in to the dining room. Each person finds a place to sit, and the only opening is next to Ellie's mom on the end. At least Sherilyn is adjacent to me. We dig into the food, all saying thanks beforehand, and there are small mummers of conversation throughout the table, but I stay out of it all. Until the end, when Sherilyn starts to ask me about my family. I keep things minimal when I tell her about both my parent's, especially my dad. I've already been upset about the fact this will be my first Christmas without him. Thanksgiving was already hard enough, especially when Mom went into her room after dinner to sob, while I stared at the empty seat across from me.

  I start to help pick up after dinner, but Sherilyn tells us all to scoot, and that she has someone to come in later in the evening to clean up the mess. We all make our way eventually to the living room to take place around the tree on the different couches and chairs set up in the room. I sit towards the back, knowing I don't have any presents in there. I'm ashamed to admit I didn't bring any either. I should have bought something for Ellie and Leon both, maybe something for the baby, but when he told me he was bringing Ellie to spend Christmas and New Year’s both in Hawaii, I got upset and jealous- so anything I had planned went out the window. They're going to be gone for ten days, and I'm going to sit here on school vacation, miserable and even more insecure than I already was.

  It's childish, I know, but sometimes no matter how old you are, you can't help the way your body or mind work. Being immature isn't always a choice, sometimes things such as jealousy do take over and you become a different person, someone you wouldn't normally recognize, even if for a little while. I don’t enjoy being jealous, but it comes with the territory of the mess I’m in.

  Leon's father stands beside the tree, calling out names to whom the presents are for. It seems as though someone made sure everyone has gotten something, excluding me. Well, that is until he surprisingly calls my name. I do a double take, but yes, he's watching me, holding a beautifully wrapped golden present in his hand. I walk up, excusing myself as I pass two of his cousins to make my way to the tree.

  I hold the square gift in my hand, looking down at the tag that says, "To Monica, From the Owens." I open the present in front of everyone else, as every single person before me has. It's a stunning maternity sweater dress in light pink, and it's even name brand- which is something I certainly don't own much of.

  Look over at Sherilyn, I smile. "Thank you, this is beautiful." I make sure to smile at Ronald as well. He nods his head, while Sherilyn grins back, pleased by my acceptance.

  I end up receiving three more presents from the Owens- a maternity outfit, which included a maroon blouse and jeans that could probably cover my entire stomach and more, a teal and brown necklace, and lastly a gift certificate to get a prenatal massage for one hour at a salon I know I couldn't afford on my own. Leon and Ellie gifted me one thing as well, which surprised me since I know it was in fact Ellie who chose out the present. It’s an oversized gift basket of fruit. Oranges, pineapple, strawberries, you name it, it was in there. She probably expected me to snub my nose at it, but honestly, I love the fact I don't have to buy myself fruit any time soon.

  I place all my stuff in a pile on the chair I was occupying during the two hour present opening session. Now I'm hungry and eyeing the fruit, but I avoid it while heading towards the bathroom. Walking back out after, I practically bump into Leon's brother, Richard.

  "I was a little disappointed not to see any Girls Gone Wild in my stack of presents."

  My face beams red. "I'm sorry. Leon told me you were a star in the adult film industry. He never said otherwise."

  He chuckles, and it reminds me of Leon's, except it doesn't warm me from the inside quite the same. "It's all good, he told me about it after the fact. I still find it funny."

  "It's funny, and insanely embarrassing."

  "Don't be embarrassed, although you're quite cute when you blush like that." He runs the back of his finger over my cheek, and in an instant I feel uncomfortable. I take a step back, turning my face away, hoping I don't look rude, but wanting to give him a sign that I'm not interested in him.

  A clearing of someone's throat catches our attention, and I look over to see Leon standing there. His arms are crossed and one of his eyebrows are raised in a daring way. At first I'm not sure if he's angry with me or not, but when he eyes his brother the way he does, I know who he’s unimpressed with.

  "You should probably go help Dad get Uncle Ned to the cab. He's stumbling over and can't walk, but thinks he can drive."

  Richard si
ghs, looking at me before staring at Leon again. "You can't help?"

  "I was, but I have something to discuss with Monica."

  "Okay." He eyes me again, this time as if he's begging me to stop him. I don’t. "Okay," he repeats. "I'll go help."

  Leon doesn't move until Richard is gone, then he walks towards me with meaning. He's upset about something. As I'm about to ask him what's wrong, he pulls on my arm and pulls me towards the bathroom, shutting the door before twisting the lock.

  "What the hell," I yell. Pushing against his arm as he lets my hand go. "Don't yank on me like that ever again."

  "What are you doing with my brother?" He asks, avoiding everything I just said.

  "What? Nothing. What is wrong with you?"

  He runs his hands over his face in frustration, throwing them in the air when he's done. "That didn't look like nothing."

  "He told me he liked when I blushed," I'm almost yelling again. "I stepped away from him. That was all!"

  "Why were you blushing then?" His words come out between gritted teeth, obviously more than upset- he's furious.

  I roll my eyes at his immaturity- although I had thoughts only hours ago about how love and jealousy can make you this way. "Because he brought up what you made me believe he was. I told him I was embarrassed. That's it. God, you're being infuriating."

  He leans towards me but I'm not moving an inch. His breathing is hard. "Don't flirt with my brother."

  "Says the guy who is bringing his girlfriend to Hawaii while his pregnant mistress stays behind."

  "Fuck you," he hisses out. "That was below the belt."

  "Because it's true?"

  "In case you weren't aware, Monica. That baby is not yours."

  In less than a second my hand is scolding hot against his cheek. I walk around Leon to leave the bathroom. "Monica, stop," he attempts to order. I don't listen. I knew he could be an asshole, but I didn't expect this. "Monica." He tries once more to get my attention, but I'm already down the hall, holding back my emotions as much as humanly possible.

  I spot Sherilyn talking with Ellie's mom when I go into the living room to gather my things. I walk over, trying to smile the best I can, but I have a feeling it isn't my best. "Thank you for everything," I tell Leon's mom. "The food was impeccable, and the presents were undeservingly wonderful."

  "Oh, you are more than welcome. It's the least I can do. You're preparing me for my first grandchild, I wanted to thank you any way I could." She runs her hands over the belly. "Does she kick often?"

  "All the time. She's a feisty one." I actually manage to laugh, although it's definitely not enthusiastic.

  "Good, it may not seem it now, but it's a great thing to have your baby nice and active in the womb. She's going to come out unbelievably healthy." I smile at her thoughtful words, and the fact she truly finds the happiness in situations.

  However, Allison isn't nearly as nice. In fact, she's been downright rude the entire time. "Technically speaking, it's not her baby," she tells Sherilyn, before looking to me. "And if you cut out on the sweets, she wouldn't be nearly as active."

  "I don't eat sweets often," I tell her.

  She eyes me up and down, pursing her lips. "I'm sure." With a turn on the heels, she walks with her head held high as she heads towards the den- which is where everyone else seems to be, since there is a bar in there, as well as a hockey game playing on the massive television.

  Trying even harder to hold back the tears, I bite down on my lip, turning to the chair with my belongings in it. While my back was to Sherilyn, I make sure to thank her once more. "I'm going to get going though. So thanks again for everything. You were a great host."

  She is standing aside me without my acknowledgement, grabbing for all my items. "I know it's not much, but let me get these for you. I'll walk you out to the car."

  "Are you sure?"

  "Absolutely. I wouldn't offer something I wasn't positive on. Let's swing by the kitchen and get you a little to-go container as well."

  "Oh, you don't have to do that," I insist.

  "Please. Please take it. It'll all go to waste if I don't start sending it home with people."

  I agree, and we head towards the kitchen to fill up a couple containers with food, as she mumbles something about how I'll have dozens of sweets for the next week all the while grinning ear to ear. She's playful and funny, and has a sense of humor I hope to have at her age. She finishes up, and to my surprise is able to carry everything except the fruit basket outside, which I bring with me.

  When we get to the car I pop my trunk to place everything inside. Once it's closed, Sherilyn steps forward to squeeze me against her. "You take care of yourself. And don't you ever let anyone make you feel less than superb."

  "I'm fine. I have thick skin," I tell her.

  She stares at me as though she's reading my thoughts. "Regardless, Eleanor and Allison shouldn't speak to you that way. You can put your foot down with them and demand more respect."

  "Honestly, it's okay," I tell her. Although, I wish I had the guts to demand them to respect me. They both make me extremely nervous, especially Ellie's mom. She's a downright bitch.

  "No. No, it's not. They're both prudes, but my son loves Ellie, so I put up with them for his sake. There are only so many times I allow snarky comments or bitchy attitudes in my home. Sometimes I could strangle them both. Sometimes we get along, but those moments are few and far between."

  "So you like Ellie and Leon together?" It's not my business, but I'm curious, and I figure I may as well ask.

  She lifts a shoulder into a small shrug. "Yes, often enough. I get angry from time to time, but I think that's how the mother to every son is. It's hard to see your child being pulled in one direction by their significant other, than pushed in another direction mere seconds later. I'm sure one day they'll work through their bullshit together, and hopefully for everyone's sake it's soon."

  My thoughts are selfish- but I actually say a quick prayer which asks for them not to ever work through their shit.

  "Well, it's a long drive back to Los Angeles alone, so I should really get going. Thanks again."

  She tugs at the end of my hair before placing her hand on my shoulder. I can sense her being the more serious woman suddenly. "Everyone has a chapter they don't read out loud. Be careful."

  Then she steps away. I'm not entirely sure what that means. I want to yell to her and ask her if it has any other meaning than what I'm assuming it does. But at the same time, I'm already broken to pieces on the inside and need a desperate cleansing cry fest on the drive home. Maybe I'll be able to think clearly once I cry my eyes out- unfortunately, probably not.

  Chapter Fourteen

  February 14th, 2016

  Fifty one days since I've seen Leon.

  Forty Two missed calls. Thirty three text messages. Two voice mails saying he's sorry.

  Seven surprises placed at my door step.

  Two dozen roses sitting on my table. One card that reads Happy Valentine's Day.

  Thirty one hours until my next doctor’s appointment, which I hope once again, he isn't going to attend.

  I haven't forgiven him for speaking to me the way he had, and even more, I'm giving my heart time to mend. My head has processed so much more than I had ever expected, and although I still long for the moment Leon shows up at my door step rather than one of his many gifts, I'm realizing I'm okay without him.

  Except... I'm not.

  I'm a mess. A miserable, gigantic, whiney ass bitch of a mess.

  I'm ruined.

  I'm lonely. I'm exhausted.

  I'm broken.

  I want Leon Owens. I want his entire heart. I want his insane love.

  I'm stubborn, and I'm still upset. I don't know why I don't answer his calls- maybe because he still hasn't showed up here himself. Maybe because when Ellie showed up at the appointment last month, after their ten day stay in Hawaii, she was glowing and grinning widely. She spoke of the most incredible trip, and how it
changed them for the better, and how it was a breath of fresh air finally. Maybe it's to do with the fact he'll never be mine, and mine only. Maybe there are many factors to which I won't simply tell him he's forgiven and all is wonderful.

  Taking some ice cream from the fridge, I head towards the silverware drawer to grab a spoon. My phone rings but I don't answer it, knowing it's probably him again.

  Then it rings again a minute later.

  With a sigh, I force myself to stand, despite the ache in my swollen feet. I grab my phone as the call ends. It shows me two missed calls from the same unrecognizable number. Then it starts ringing again. "Hello?" I answer.

  "Hello, my name is Shawna Greenfield. I'm a nurse from White Memorial Medical Center, located in Los Angeles. Is this Monica Rockwell?"

  My stomach becomes unsettled within an instant. "Um, yes. This is she." I almost don't want to answer her. I don't want to be having a phone call that involves the word death, or anything of similarity.

  "Hi, Miss Rockwell. We have you down as an emergency contact for a Diana Rockwell, is that your mother?"

  "It is..."

  "It appears she had an overdose early this morning. She was brought in via ambulance, and we had our staff immediately assessing her. As of now she is asleep but stable. We're keeping a close eye on her, but it's going to be several days before she starts feeling herself. Has anything like this ever happened before?"

  My shoes are already on by the time she's finished her statement, and I'm scrounging for my keys and purse. "No, never. She was in rehab for a pill addiction. Is that what she overdosed on?"

  "According to the witness that called, it actually appears she was using cocaine. Do you know how long she's been using?"

  I pause while putting my keys into the door to unlock it. "Diana is in there on a cocaine overdose?"

  "It appears so, ma'am. We did a toxicology report, but sometimes it can take weeks to get the results back. Would you like to come in and see her?"

  I stare at my car, wondering if I do want to see her or not. What am I supposed to do? I want to strangle her. I can't go alone. I need one of my friends to go with me, but I'm almost too embarrassed to say anything- not to mention, it is Valentine's Day, which happens to run on a Sunday this year. I guarantee they're all busy. "Maybe," I answer honestly. "I need some time to process this."

 

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