Then He Happened

by Claudia Burgoa

  My dad sits silently in his recliner in the corner of the room. It was his dad’s chair originally. It creaks with any sudden movement, whining louder than when Sam was a baby and couldn’t sleep through the night.

  Occasionally, Dad will take a sip of his beer. But it’s been dead silent since my mom told me to sit down.

  Until she just started shouting at me a moment ago.

  “She said they dropped that last year,” I argue quietly.

  My mom glares as if to say, now is not the time.

  I shut up.

  “She had perfectly good grades in high school,” she rants. “Top of her class.”

  That was me, not Charlie.

  “She’s smart,” I say, staring at my feet.

  “So doing her assignments, writing her notes that she could use for participation points—you had absolutely nothing to do with that?”

  I swallow thickly. “I—”

  “Her admissions essay.” My mom is practically in tears at this point. “That beautiful piece on belonging and community involvement that made your father cry. That was—”

  “It was true! I talked to her before I wrote it—”

  “I’m done with your lies, Eileen,” she says, indignantly. “Thanks to you, we’ve wasted a year and a half on tuition. Years of her education are gone. You’ve made your sister completely useless.”

  No, Mom, that was you.

  I stare down at my sneakers. They’re covered in sharpie from that night a few years ago when Charlie tried to sneak into the house while high on molly. I took her to the park and let her draw on my shoes until she sobered up more. It was a miracle we didn’t get caught.

  I fight back the urge to point out that Charlie’s read everything I’ve ever given her. At least, that’s what I think. In her defense, she got good scores on tests because we’d study together. She could explain things so well once she got the gist of a concept.

  She isn’t useless. Charlie needs a little push, not a hovering mother trying to solve her life or finding someone to solve her life.

  She just hates school. Hates how hard it is to focus or sit still.

  “I’m sorry,” I say quietly. “I didn’t mean—”

  “It doesn’t matter what you meant, Eileen,” my dad finally says something. “It wasn’t your call. You’ve ruined your sister’s life.”

  I guess I did.

  I didn’t mean to ruin anything. I was just trying to help her, but she flunked out of school. It’ll take forever to get her to graduate somewhere else. That’s assuming she wants to go back to school.

  “So now what?” I say, worried for Charlie but also scared shitless for myself.

  These two are going to make me pay back every cent they invested on my sister, or worse, they won’t pay for my college education.

  “Since you’ve taken it upon yourself to control her life and parent for her, you get to fix this situation,” my mom says. “Find her a job, get her a career. Fix what you’ve broken, Eileen.”

  I wince. “Okay,” I whisper.

  My mom points to the door. I take the cue to run. I can still hear them shouting, but it’s easier to drown it out once I’m out of their bedroom. I go looking for Charlie.

  She’s out in the backyard, sitting on one of our swings. She’s staring listlessly at the view of the mountains peaking over our fence.

  “Mind if I sit here?” I ask, approaching her carefully.

  Charlie nods slowly. The glazed look in her eyes fades as she turns to stare at me. I guess she was just daydreaming. She used to get high a lot in high school. I could never understand what the appeal was, but she always seemed happier during those quiet moments before she came down.

  A year ago, she told me she had a bad trip and as a result, she wanted to get clean. She told me not to help her anymore because she wanted to do things on her own. Wanted to stand on her own two feet for once. I guess it worked because she stopped calling me in the middle of the night, sobbing that everyone hates her.

  She grins at me sadly. It doesn’t explain where she’d go when she was ditching class—or how she spent the last four months of her life.

  We sit there for a while, the late spring breeze pushing us lightly as it rushes past us. The crickets keep us from falling into unbearable silence.

  “What now?” she asks at some point.

  I take a deep breath. If I were being honest, I’d say, “I don’t know, I think we’re fucked.”

  Neither of us have the privilege of time or uncertainty, however.

  Instead I say, “We have options. You could go to another school—”

  “No, Eileen,” she says. “I’m never going back to school it’s—it’s too hard, okay?”

  I nod. “There’s lots of things you can try. Like so many fucking careers and businesses that don’t necessarily need a degree.”

  She sighs. “Like what?”

  “Like... a party planner?”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  I shrug. “You love parties, decorations, telling people what to do?”

  She laughs. It helps ease the tension out of my shoulders.

  Charlie scoots over, leaning her head on my shoulder. We watch the sunset together.

  “Okay, weddings, bar mitzvahs, baptisms and everything you need,” she says softly. “Let’s try that.”

  37

  Jason

  After she finishes the story, I only have one thing to say, “I hate your parents so goddamn much.”

  Are they fucking crazy?

  Where do they live? The stone age where parents are infallible and can dump their shit on their kids by proxy?

  On some level they have to realize that Charlie’s bullshit is their fault. Clearly, they think they’re responsible enough that they have to pull Charlie out of every situation she gets herself in.

  And yet too incapable that they don’t help her the way she really needs it. I scrub my face. What a fucking show!

  Marek's kid is fucked if this is Charlie’s model of “good” parenting.

  “They’re not—”

  “Eileen with all due respect, please don’t end that sentence with ‘that bad’,” I say.

  She lets out a loud sigh. “I get it, though. I fucked up Charlie’s life. I’m just so tired of making up for it.”

  I cross the kitchen, taking her hands in mine and squeezing them.

  “Eileen, I need you to listen to me very carefully,” I say, eyes pleading. “If there’s nothing else you ever remember about me for the rest of your life just remember this okay?”

  “Okay…” she says.

  “And you can’t interrupt me, promise?”

  “Promise, but—”

  “Your parents are idiots. Wait, hear me out okay,” I say, squeezing her hands gently. “You were a kid! Trying to help your sister not flunk out of school! Did she fucking cheat? Uh yeah, but that’s her fault, and it was her choice to stop. Her choices aren’t your fault. Your parents not having the fucking bandwidth to process their failures and treat you with the love and respect you deserve is also not your fault. You got that?”

  She takes a deep breath, nodding slowly.

  “Good,” I say quietly. “And if anything, they should be apologizing to you. Maybe you screwed up by enabling Charlie when you were younger. But your penance fucking far outweighs your sins. That's cruel. They need to move on and so should you.”

  No wonder she doesn't believe in herself.

  How dare they take this amazing woman for granted? I want to build a shield around her and protect her from them.

  “In hindsight, I think Charlie had dyslexia and maybe ADHD,” she murmurs. “I couldn't diagnose that but it makes sense. My parents wouldn't know what to look for. Lots of parents don't know and don't bother to research.”

  “That was on them. You did what you could.”

  “Fuck, my life is a mess,” she says while scrubbing her face. “I wish this wedding would disappear.”

 
“I’m afraid that isn't possible, but we could ditch,” I propose wondering if Jossie can have a charter ready in a couple of hours.

  Aruba doesn’t sound bad, and it’s Eileen’s birthday.

  “We’re in the wedding party,” she says with a sad smile. “Our attendance is a little mandatory.”

  We could go anywhere, as long as it makes you happy, I think.

  I squeeze her hand. “If that's what you want.”

  “Uh, it’s getting late,” she says. “I have to get to my parents’ houset o get ready for the wedding.”

  During the drive, she hums along to the radio in the car. I’ll take it as a good enough sign. She’s a fucking badass. She can survive a few hours alone with her family. We’ll get through the wedding and then afterward—

  I don’t know what happens afterward. I guess I’ll figure that out when we get there.

  “Call me if you need anything,” I say as I park in front of her house.

  “I’ll be fine,” she reassures me as she opens the car door, and I wonder if she’s convincing me, or herself.

  “Eileen, seriously.” I lean over the center console. “You don’t have to do this alone. It’s your birthday and your life for fuck’s sake.”

  She gives me a sad smile, leaning over to pat my cheek. I close the gap between us, kissing her on the lips.

  This kiss is less heated than what we’ve been doing for the last two days. It’s quick, soft, and fucking domestic.

  It’s like coming home after a long year, or years.

  “I’ll be okay,” she says. “See you later, okay?”

  She gets out, slamming the door shut before I can argue.

  I watch her disappear into her parents’ house. “Okay.”

  38

  Eileen

  Despite how confident and calm I tried to sound in front of Jason, I’m stressed out of my mind. There’s a million ways this wedding can go wrong and only one way for it to go right. If anything’s out of place, it’ll be held against me. It will probably come up at every family function for the rest of my life. Maybe I should stop arriving late and just ditch them all. Now there’s a happy solution.

  I don’t look back as I head into my parents’ house. But the second the door shuts, I glance through the peephole. Jason’s car stays out there for a minute before peeling out of the driveway.

  I shudder as my heart skips a beat. He’s a good friend, I tell myself. He isn’t kidding about ditching the wedding if I want.

  Too bad ditching was never an option.

  I would do anything for my family. That’s what families are supposed to be for—banding together in the hard times and cheering each other on in the easy times.

  Family is supposed to be there when no one else will. Regardless of our flaws, they’re supposed to see past that and help us pick ourselves back up—just like we’d do for them.

  Jason is right. I’m loyal to a fault. I have a sense of responsibility to my family that they’ve never had towards me, even when things were better around here.

  Charlie used to be so good, though. She’s so sensitive, but she had such a kind heart. She was so empathetic.

  She was a fire that could only be quenched by helping others. That’s something I always admired about her. I think somewhere along the way, the person she was disappeared.

  And so, I did everything in my power to get her back by assuming her life—living for her and everyone else instead of me.

  I kinda feel like an idiot right now. But that’s life, I guess. I can’t get my sister back; I just have to live with the person she became.

  Or don’t. Just walk away, I imagine Jason saying.

  Maybe being a good aunt will remind Charlie of everything we used to have. Someday we might heal.

  “Eileen, is that you?” my mom shouts.

  I wipe a tear from the corner of my eye. “Yeah, I’m here.”

  She comes storming into the living room. “Well, it’s about time. Come on, the stylist is here and she’ll need ample time to fix your hair.”

  There’s no happy birthday hug or even an acknowledgment that today isn’t just about Charlie. I open my mouth to make a sarcastic comment, but I shut it. What’s the point?

  Nodding, I numb myself a little. Besides getting trashed out of my mind, blocking everyone out is the only way I’m going to get through today.

  It’s May 27th, my twenty-seventh birthday. I wanted it to be the most amazing birthday I’ve ever had and it still could be.

  I just have to survive my family.

  “Eileen, finally,” Charlie groans as I’m ushered into our parents’ bedroom. “Tiffany can’t start my hair until she finishes yours, and we’re already an hour behind schedule.”

  “No, we’re not,” I say. “We have four hours until we need to leave for—”

  “Actually, we’re leaving in two hours now because some of my LA friends surprised me and came in for the wedding,” she says. “And they want to drink before the wedding, and I want pictures with them before they’re too drunk on absinthe to stand.”

  Joy, we have more unexpected guests.

  Eileen: Her L.A. friends decided to come.

  Jason: On it, don’t worry.

  Eileen: Thank you. You’re the best.

  Jason: No, you are but I’ll take the compliment.

  “Cool,” I mutter. “Let’s hurry up then.”

  Charlie grins. I haven’t seen that excitement in her eyes in a really long time.

  Despite everything, Charlie is still one of the most important people in my life. Her being happy makes all of this seem less shitty.

  Her wishing me a happy birthday would make all of this worth it. Even on the ride down to the venue, I wait for that moment.

  It never comes.

  That’s fine, I remind myself. All I have to do is survive this wedding. Whatever they do is fine. It’s Charlie’s big day. My mom’s dream wedding.

  Everything is going to be fine.

  39

  Eileen

  Two hours before the wedding

  Four hours later, and I’m ready to murder someone.

  Holy shit, weddings are a nightmare. That’s it, I’m never getting married. To quote Dr. Seuss, not here, not there. Not in a church, and never close to this bunch.

  The band is fucking late. The food is too early. Marek ordered a fucking ice sculpture at the last minute because he thought that would be “romantic.”

  I can’t find anywhere to put the damn thing that is supposed to be my sister’s image… and looks nothing like her.

  I swear if Charlie doesn’t kill him within the next year, I’ll do it myself.

  Oh, and don’t get me started on the flowers. Fortunately, the bouquets were fixed, and we managed with the floral decorations Charlie changed fifteen million times. I said it once and I’ll say it again, peonies are beautiful.

  And on the list of how things were fucked a million ways, the bridesmaids have informed me that they forgot the party favors for everyone in their hotel rooms. They are staying on the other side of Colorado Springs to save money. So, Jason had to call their hotel to get them and pay for a courier to have them sent down here.

  “Fuck everyone. Let them live without their shitty party favors,” I tell him.

  “Normally I’d say, that’s the spirit. But since someone said we had an obligation to be here, we might as well do it right,” he says.

  I rub my temple. “I don’t think they’re worth wasting your money.”

  Jason frowns. “Well, duh, but it’s not for them.”

  “So, what’s—”

  “This nightmare is almost over,” he reminds me, grabbing my hand and dusting kisses on my wrist. “You wanted a perfect wedding, so I’m going to make sure it happens.”

  Without thinking, I hug him tightly.

  “Thank you so much,” I murmur into his chest. “I don’t know how I would’ve survived today, or any of this, without you.”

  He squeezes me back,
kissing the top of my head. It blows me away every time this tall, muscular guy gives the gentlest hugs. He’s so high energy, but he’s also so soft.

  Loving.

  “Ditto, and thank you,” he says. “This could’ve been the worst few weeks of my life. But it was the exact opposite.”

  I bury my face deeper in his chest, trying to hide my stupid blush.

  “That was all you, birthday girl,” he says and just his presence makes this manageable.

  It’s weird how this is already the best birthday I’ve had in years or maybe ever. It’s so incredibly stressful, but I don’t have to do it on my own.

  The clicking of stiletto heels interrupts us.

  “Your wedding is falling apart. No surprises, but I’m pitching in,” Jossie says.

  Jason clears his throat. “Jossie we got—”

  “Darlings, let’s be reasonable here,” she interrupts him, lifting her finger. “You’ve done a wonderful job considering the cards you were dealt. But the day of the ceremony involves a lot of oversight that you don’t have time for.”

  “You’re right,” I agree, grateful for her presence. “It’d be amazing if you could help, just tell me how much we need to pay—”

  “Don’t,” Jossie puts a finger on my lips. “Think of this as a wedding present to a family friend. And part one of your birthday gifts from me.”

  “Part One?” My eyes get wet. “Thank you, Jossie.”

  She bends over to hug me. “It’s my pleasure. You deserve it.”

  This has to be a dream. My day just got so much easier.

  “Now go on,” she says, shooing us away. “Go be with the bride and groom. I’ll take care of the rest.”

  We’re already fifteen minutes late for the wedding when Charlie finally gets out of the restroom next to the bridal suite.

  “Ready?” I ask anxiously, trying not to stare at my watch.

  Charlie nods, “I’ve made the decision not to get married today.”