Wild Cards

by R. C. Stephens

  Something about our goodbye seemed so final. Probably because we never made plans to meet again. I guess that’s how it is with people like us; people who shy away from commitments and ever afters. There are lots of goodbyes.

  Chapter 7

  Past

  Two and a half years ago

  Vicky

  Three years, three years I’ve spent at Lakehead University working my ass off to get into a respectable engineering program for graduate school. Three years of friendships, good memories, building a future. One minute for it all to get washed away. One single visit home, and my life got pulled out from under my feet. I’m glad the Dean agreed to give me a deferral this year, but who knows if I’ll come back. Who knows what life will be like after. I can’t allow my mind to think that way, I can’t picture an after. Picturing an after burns a hole through my heart. She’s still here and I feel lost already.

  ***

  “We've been roommates for three years, Vicky, you can't just leave without telling me what's wrong,” Riley begged as tears ran down her cheeks. I didn't mean to leave her hanging like this; we were so close. We'd been roomies for three years. She was more like the sister I wished for as a little girl than a friend. I was frantically walking back and forth in the dorm room, throwing all my belongings in my open suitcases on the bed. I didn’t know where to begin, there were so many things. My insides were turning and I could barely see straight.

  “Vicky,” Riley hollered, placing her hands on both of my arms, trying to gauge what I was feeling. She looked deep into my eyes, thinking she’s psychic or something and I almost wanted to laugh. Almost.

  “Ry,” I inhaled a sharp breath, as much as I wanted to tell her what was wrong and why I had to leave, I couldn't will the words out of my mouth. If I said the words my reality would become real and I was drowning. I wanted to break down and cry on Riley's shoulder, but my stubborn ass will to hold on prevented me from breaking. My stubborn ass will would get me through this. I took a big gulp and sucked down the pain threatening to burn right through me.

  “Please, Ry, I appreciate that you care, but I can't talk, I need my space on this one,” I pled as I frantically tried to pack all my things. This didn’t even feel real. I was frustrated and lost. I couldn’t even think straight let alone pack myself, and my damn hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

  “This one?” she asked, holding her hand up to her hair. She could tell this was serious. This wasn't my usual rant about missing Jamie. This was life changing in a way that I couldn't understand. Maybe I didn't want to understand. I shoved all of my belongings into my suitcase rapidly, my breathing was shallow, my chest was tight, and I wished I could just run away from life. If only it were so easy. I was borderline hysterical and at my breaking point, one small poke, one thread pointed in the wrong direction and I would lose it.

  “Vick, let me help you,” Riley said softly, picking up the pile of clothing thrown on my bed. She began to fold it nicely, which was strange for Ry, she was the messiest girl I know. Again, I wanted to laugh, but if I laughed I may have cried; my emotions were all messed up. Ry was also the warmest girl I know, always spreading her love and affection, but I couldn’t do that right then. I wanted to be numb. I stomped away from Riley and the confused look on her face didn’t go unnoticed.

  I walked seven steps and locked myself in our small bathroom. Falling to the floor, I caught my head in my hands willing myself to hold on. The cream tiles were cool on my behind and I took a few deep breaths. I will not fall apart. I repeated the mantra. Mama’s voice broke into my mind, stand up, right now, you are tough, you are a Molino. I huffed, if only she were right. I stood back up squaring my shoulders as I looked in the mirror. Vicky Molino, you will not fall apart. I repeated the mantra as I opened my make-up case and took out my face powder. I began to apply make-up with my rattled hands. If I looked good I would feel better and it would conceal the pain inside. I applied black mascara to my already full lashes and slathered on hot pink lip gloss, puckering my lips together. They looked nice and full. I inhaled another long breath and exhaled as I swung open the bathroom door with a smile plastered across my face. Riley quickly lifted her head checking me out.

  “Would you quit it?”

  “What?” she feigned innocence.

  “Stop trying to get inside my head. I can't do this today,” I asserted, zipping up my suitcase, which was now nicely packed. I didn’t mean to be a bitch, especially not to Riley, but I was losing control and I needed to hold it together somehow. The truth was I might never be able to will the words out of me, so I hoped she doesn't persist. She remained silent, but I could tell by her creased forehead that her intuitive skills were hard at work.

  With everything packed I turned around and allowed my eyes to take in every corner of my dorm room. All the memories it held, all the firsts, the lasts, all the happiness and tears that those walls had witnessed. Mostly, I was scared. Dropping out of engineering school wasn't something to take lightly, not when it's been a childhood dream, but I had no choice. Ry came up to me, throwing her arms around my neck in true Riley fashion; this girl is all heart. I knew if I told her what was going on, she would be by my side every step of the way. But I was not strong enough. The doctors warned that the next few months were going to be emotionally disabling. What does that even mean? I couldn't fathom. The bad parts hadn't even begun and I was shutting down. As I headed to my old Tracker in the parking lot, I not only felt like a chapter of my life was ending, but I felt like my whole life was ending. As I drove down the black paved roads, I couldn't help but remember the look on Mama’s face when I came home on Friday for Thanksgiving. From the moment I walked through the door something was off, very off.

  She persisted with our usual turkey dinner and Nono was over as usual. Dad looked solemn, wearing his feelings on his sleeve. I nodded my head thinking…I should have known at dinner. Nono was picking at the turkey and he usually shovels it in. My mom's turkey is one of the best around. She uses a secret marinade that everyone raves about in our little town. Then Joe, my older brother, came through the door and everyone's eyes brightened. My mama and papa never had the opportunity to go to university and Joe and I were living their dreams. I was in engineering school and Joe was almost finished with his undergrad degree in kinesiology.

  The weekend went by despite the heavy air permeating throughout the house. By the time Monday morning rolled around, I couldn't take it anymore. My papa was completely withdrawn into his own world. I think he may have spoken a total of three words since I arrived home. Which was very unlike him. He usually asked Joe and me endless questions about our classes, wanting to learn as much as he could from us. And Mama, just thinking about her makes me tear up. The way she was watching us: those sparkling emerald eyes scribing our every movement as if it would be her last. I smack my steering wheel hard. Life is not fucking fair. Why her? She's the closest thing there is to an angel.

  My eyes began to tear making my drive very blurry. Don't cry, Vick, don't cry, you have to be strong for her. I tried to suck the tears back and used the sleeve of my jacket to wipe away the excess. Looking in the rearview mirror, I realized that I looked like a mess with my black mascara running down my cheeks. Mama’s soft words were on constant replay in my mind ‘I have a brain tumor, Vick, I'm dying, the doctors are giving me three months.'

  How does that happen? One minute your life was going smooth, the next a rug has been pulled out from under you and you find yourself on your ass. Only in my case I hadn't fallen. I was treading right now, trying to keep strong, understanding that my Mama had a fierce battle to face; one that she wouldn't win, one that would ravage her until there was nothing left. I couldn't fathom it. My mind had a guard up that wouldn't let me break it. I finally pulled up to the driveway and my tires clunked along the potholes that needed fixing. I walked around the Tracker to open the door and pulled out my luggage.

  “Wait a minute, Vick.” Joe came trudging out the front door.

/>   “What the hell are you doing here?” I asked with my eyes narrowed on him. I didn’t mean to be a bitch, but he was supposed to head back to school yesterday and him being here meant that it was just as hard for him to leave, and maybe he was contemplating dropping out which would break Mama’s heart. It may be her last days with us, but I wanted to make them as happy and as easy as possible for her.

  “I couldn't leave, I'm staying to take care of her,” he said, as he ran his fingers nervously through his dark hair. His eyes looked red and swollen. As big and strong as he was, he’d always been sensitive.

  “The hell you’re staying here. You know how important school is to her, you don’t want to disappoint her, not now. She needs to know that you’re going to finish school, this is your last year,” I said, pointing a finger a little too close to his face. I suddenly realized how close my finger was, and I looked at Joe then at my finger and pulled it away. He was standing in front of me with his arms crossed over his chest looking at me knowingly. I left school, I dropped out and she was going to freak out, but someone needed to take care of her and it should be me, not Joe. I was just starting third year but I was given a deferral, I could always go back.

  “Don’t look at me like that Joe, I asked for a deferral and the Dean granted it. You’re finished in six months, you will have a degree in your hand, you know how happy that would make her,” I said insistently. We are siblings, but I got Mama’s small frame and emerald eyes and Joe’s a carbon copy of Papa, tall, strong and built. He pulled me in to him and squeezed me too tight, giving me a kiss on the head. I could feel his pain, it’s shared, but I pulled away, I couldn’t do this, not when Mama could walk out of the house at any minute and see us.

  “Joe, let’s go in and honestly, I’m expecting you to leave tonight,” I insisted, as I pulled two large garbage bags out of the back seat of the Tracker. Joe nodded and picked up the two suitcases in his burly arms. He was nodding his head; he knows that the Molino women are stubborn when we set our mind to something. That’s what made this whole situation difficult, Mama was a stubborn woman, a fighter, she always had been, and having her face a battle she couldn’t win, just doesn’t seem right. We entered the house and Mama was standing in the doorway. Her eyes looked sad and longing. Joe dropped my luggage instantly and wrapped her up in a bear hug. Mama buried her head in his strong shoulder and I came around the back wrapping my arms around her too. The three of us stayed like that for a long time. I could have stayed like that forever, not wanting to let her go, not wanting to face the reality that was going to rip into our lives.

  “Okay, come let’s make some pizza.” Mama smiled trying to break-up our heart wrenching moment. I choked on my emotions and coughed to release some air, and then I followed Mama into the kitchen, realizing that I was going to need to actually watch her make pizza this time because it may be our last chance, and my last chance to learn her secret recipe.

  “Okay, Bella,” Mama said, calling me ‘beautiful’ in Italian. It was her nickname for me. She pulled out a large bag of flour and got the mixing bowls and cheese ready. “Joe you grate the cheese, sweetheart,” Mama said patting him on the back. Making pizza shouldn’t be this sad but it was. I wanted to cry, the tears were so close to making an appearance, but I wouldn’t break down, not when Mama was being so brave. I didn’t want to make her cry, I wanted her to be strong, maybe the doctors were wrong, and maybe my Mama could win this battle. I looked over to Joe knowingly; we were both working hard to hold our tears.

  “Don’t be sad kids. I’ve had a good life and look at the legacy I’m leaving behind. I couldn’t have asked for better children. You are both so loving and caring, you’re going to do fine without me,” she said with a soft tone, but there it was, my breaking point, the words I’d been running away from in my head. ‘We’ll be fine without her.’ No, I wouldn’t be fine without her, I’d always come to her for advice, I looked up to her, I wanted her to be there the day I got married, I wanted her to see me through childbirth. I needed her, damn it. As I was rolling the dough with my hands I couldn’t take it anymore. I broke.

  “I’m sorry Mama.” I rubbed my dough filled hands along my jeans making them white and sticky, but I needed to get out of there. I couldn’t take any of this, I could not think of a life without her.

  “Bella!” Mom called after me. I didn’t want to leave her, but I needed my space.

  “Vicky, come back!” Joe called out. I couldn’t turn around; my mind was in overdrive, drowning in grief. I grabbed the keys for the Tracker off the small table in the entryway. I’d plunged into darkness and I could barely see straight. I ran straight out the front door. My hands were so jittery I could barely get the key in the hole to open the driver’s door. It finally slid in and I turned the key, opening the door, and falling into the driver's seat. I needed to get out of here. I ripped out of my driveway, skidding the tires. I didn’t know where to go or who to tell; I barely knew my own name. It was freezing outside and I begin to shake as I was driving, the cold was numbing. I didn’t want to remember Mama’s words. There is no life without her. I’d pushed Riley away, but for some reason I needed Jamie, my boyfriend, my first love. We’d been together since grade eleven, and after four years he was the only one I could go to right now, the only one who might understand me. He lost his mother when he was five, only she didn’t get sick, she just left him behind. He must understand what I’m going through, he must.

  It was mid-afternoon and I assumed he was at work, so I drove slowly to the mechanic shop not wanting to get pulled over by any police. Jamie worked for his father. He’d been working there as a mechanic since we graduated from high school and he got his mechanic degree. I was hoping that Jamie would be more reasonable than my family who had clearly lost it. I couldn’t understand how they were all taking this sitting down. There must be a way to fight this dumbass cancer. I pulled into the shop taking the turn a little too fast and coming to an abrupt stop. The garage door was closed, but the place should be open, I walked up to the front door noticing the Open sign hanging on the door. The blue Mustang Jamie usually drove was parked out front. He must be around here somewhere.

  I opened the front door shaking from the cool fall air, there was no one at the reception desk, which was strange. Usually there was a young woman, Annabelle, there to greet customers. I opened the door leading to the garage work area when I noticed a black pickup truck shaking back and forth. Jamie must be working on it and hadn’t heard me come through the door. I walked around the side, but nothing could prepare my eyes for the sight before me, Jamie with his jeans and boxers down to his ankles and Lily Sanders with her legs wrapped around him. My heart nosedived into my stomach. Once again, the comfortable rug that I used to walk through life had been pulled out from under my feet.

  “Fuck,” I gritted out.

  Hearing my voice caused him to lift his head out from Lily’s neck and snapped back toward me. He instantly stopped pounding into her, his hands falling slack beside his body, he pushed Lily off him and took a few slow steps back, his damned dick flailing around. I thought I was going to be sick, the bile rose in my throat.

  “Shit, sorry, Vick,” Lily called out adjusting her very slutty skirt.

  I turned to walk out of there because I think I may have frozen for a moment, this was turning out to be the worst day of my life. “Stop!” Jamie called out, trying to reach for me. I pulled my arm away disgusted, not wanting to have any contact with him what-so-ever.

  “Dammit it, Vick, I screwed up, would you stop for a minute,” Jamie said, running after me, I quickly turned my head to notice that he had the time to pick up his boxers and jeans. He reached for my arm again, but I pulled it away, not wanting his slimy hands anywhere near me. I got back into the Tracker and slammed the door shut. Jamie flinched back from the force of it.

  Then I peeled out of the mechanic shop parking lot, my life a blur. How and when did this happen? My mom was only thirty-eight years old, this can’t be r
ight. With nowhere to go and nothing to look forward to I realized that I’d lost hope.

  Chapter 8

  Vicky

  Present

  After a long afternoon and evening walking around the fascinating streets of Manhattan, my feet were sore and I felt exhausted. Back in the motel I switched on the television, hoping to lie back and watch a movie, maybe even fall asleep. Yesterday was a long day between traveling to New York and attending the sex party. As I flipped through the channels there was nothing to watch, so I sent a text message to my brother.

  Are you there, Joe?

  Of course there was no answer.

  Dammit Joe, answer me now…

  Still no answer and I huffed out a long breath. He went back to London to complete his kinesiology degree after Mama passed away. Then he spent two days at home watching Papa drinking himself into a stupor until he passed out, only to watch him repeat the routine. He blew up at him and told him he would take him to AA but Papa refused, nodding his head and pulling away from him. I knew Joe felt helpless. I had felt helpless the entire time I took care of Mama. Watching such a young woman die killed me slowly inside, and although Joe wasn’t around to watch the process, I knew he was hurting just as bad, especially since he looked up to Papa growing up. He was his superhero and then he fell apart. I think it ripped apart every belief he had his whole life.

  Feeling frustrated and alone I dialed Nessa’s number. Two rings later she picked up.

  “Vick, what’s up, hon? Did you meet the big man?” she asked referring to my father.

  Solemnly I answered, “Yeah I did.”

  “Oh no, that doesn’t sound to promising.”

  “He wants a blood test…I can’t blame him I guess, given who he is. I’m just disappointed that he doesn’t have more faith in my mother and her word. She would never have lied about something like this.”