“I’m going to call her and give her a piece of my mind,” Zachary said, pretending to be upset at Jane.
“No, don’t do that,” Emma replied anxiously, “it doesn’t matter now.”
“Sure it does, she needs to learn to be responsible.”
“I’m sure we’ll have a long talk about it later or tomorrow and she’ll apologize,” Emma said.
Zachary was appalled by her impudence.
“Did you have a good time?” he asked blankly.
“It was okay,” she said.
“Why didn’t your mom go?”
Emma shrugged her shoulders.
“I guess she had better things to do,” she said softly.
Zachary could no longer keep up the facade.
“You mean like having dinner with me and Colleen?”
Emma felt a sick feeling in her stomach. She stared straight ahead, saying nothing.
“You know, she mentioned you guys haven’t been getting along very well,” he said. It was the understatement of the century.
Emma continued looking ahead, resisting eye contact.
“You know how it is with teenagers,” she said, trying to minimize things.
“I know how it is for your mother too,” Zachary said bluntly.
Emma’s cheeks began to burn with both anger and embarrassment as she wondered what Jane had told Zachary. She stared down at her shoes, saying nothing.
“I know you may think it’s none of my business, but your mother is like a sister to me and you’d better start treating her with respect,” he said firmly.
The rush of emotions building up in Emma’s head became uncontrollable.
“You’re right, Mr. Connor,” she exploded, “I don’t think it’s any of your business.”
Zachary was astounded by her abrasive tone. How dare she yell at him? He was the one doing her a favor.
“I don’t appreciate your tone, Emma. I’m not your mother, I won’t tolerate being spoken to that way,” he said angrily.
Emma opened her mouth quickly as if to yell again, then shut it. A few seconds went by. She took a deep breath. Zachary was grateful to see that she was at least attempting to control herself.
“I don’t know what she told you, but she lies about me,” she said.
“And what is it that you think she told me about you?”
“Nothing good I’m sure,” she snorted.
“Why would she bad-mouth you?”
“Why are you interviewing me?” she asked aggressively.
“I’m just making conversation,” Zachary answered, knowing that he’d better control his own increasing anger.
“I’m tired, I’m not in the mood to talk,” Emma snapped and then turned her head away from Zachary, looking out of the window.
“Fine,” Zachary said sternly, “but I’m telling you now, your mother loves you and you treat her like crap. You’d better keep your mouth shut if you have nothing nice to say to her. And the next time you put your hands on her, I’ll slap you myself.”
Emma gave no sign that she either heard or acknowledged what Zachary had said. She sat there motionless, staring out of the window.
But Emma did hear every word and was furious that Jane had blabbed about the slap. It made her want to slap her again, harder next time, maybe even punch her. What a fat, freakin’ crybaby, she thought. She fantasized about kicking Jane down the stairs, her rolls of fat jiggling wildly as she fell. She imagined her at the bottom of the stairs, crying out in pain for help. Emma could see herself kicking Jane in the gut before walking right over her on her way out. She would leave Jane there, broken, in pain, dying even. She didn’t care. She hated Jane with a passion. The fantasy quelled her anger.
She smiled to herself as the mental imagery faded. Zachary was speeding. Good, she thought. She couldn’t wait to get home. Maybe Jane would be waiting at the top of the stairs for her....
The rest of the ride to Jane’s house was silent. When Zachary pulled into the driveway, Emma quickly unfastened her seatbelt, grabbed her purse and ran out of the car without even saying thank you, let alone goodbye. Zachary shook his head in disgust. She was every bit as bad as Jane had described. He thought about going in to check on Jane, but it was late and he didn’t want to bug her. He’d call her in the morning. He sped off, thanking God that he and Colleen had a son instead of a daughter.
Emma entered the house loudly, not caring whether Jane was asleep. Her head and stomach both hurt and all she had wanted to do now was go to bed.
Naturally, Jane was wide awake and had been in her room listening out for Emma in case she wasn’t spending the night with one of her friends. Jane’s stomach had been a tangled knot since she arrived home about an hour ago. Not only did her mind dwell upon everything that had happened at the party, but she was worried about Emma. She didn’t know where she was or with whom.
Now, upon Emma’s arrival, it felt like a knife was being jabbed repeatedly into her abdomen. On one hand, she was happy that Emma was safe at home. On the other hand, she was so distressed about what had happened at the party, she felt the need to confront Emma about it, but she knew that it would indeed become a confrontation.
Jane knew Emma wouldn’t care to talk about things, that she would never apologize for her outrageous behavior or even curb her attitude. She knew she risked both her physical and emotional well-being every time she approached Emma. Yet, as always, her maternal instincts and her heart full of love outweighed her need for self-preservation and protection.
She fought feelings of dread and queasiness as she quietly walked down the hall toward Emma’s room. The bedroom door was pushed, but not closed. There was a two to three inch opening. Jane peered through the opening, knowing that she shouldn’t be violating Emma’s privacy, but daring to nevertheless.
Emma was undressing out of her party dress. She was so thin,
Jane could count her ribs. Jane gasped, drawing attention to herself.
Emma covered herself with her dress and walked to the door, flinging it open abruptly.
“Spying on me now?” she yelled angrily.
“I was just about to knock....” Jane said nervously, taking a step back.
“You ruined my night!” Emma yelled furiously.
“The only reason I showed up was to make sure you were okay. I saw a few missed calls from you,” Jane explained.
“It was too late by then,” she said harshly. “I needed a ride to Sierra Gardens. Thanks to you I had to take a cab. I was over an hour late while you were off somewhere eating bonbons.”
Jane felt badly about not being there for Emma when she needed her. It was all her fault that Emma was late. No wonder she was so angry at the party.
“I’m so, so sorry,” Jane said warmly. “I had no idea you needed a ride. I would’ve gladly driven you. You’ve been going everywhere with your friends. You don’t even need me to drive you back and forth to school anymore. I just assumed—”
“You assumed wrong,” Emma shouted. “Get out of here, I’m done talking to you.”
“It helps to talk sometimes, Em....”
“Oh yeah, like when you tell the Connors how awful I am,” Emma said bitterly.
Jane wondered how she could have possibly known that she had confided in Zachary and Colleen.
“That’s right, Mr. Connor told me all the bad things you said about me, just before threatening to kick my ass.”
“What are you talking about?” Jane asked.
“You told them everything I said to you and that I slapped you and God only knows how many lies,” Emma yelled.
“I wouldn’t lie about you, Emma. I was just upset about everything that’s been going on between us. I needed to vent.”
“I hate you!” Emma shouted, through gritted teeth. “I wish you were dead.”
Emma lunged forward swiftly and Jane jumped back, expecting her to swing. Instead, she slammed the door in Jane’s face. Jane walked back to her room, feeling more miserable than
ever. She had let Emma down. If only she had been available to drive her. Maybe
Emma would have even invited her to attend the party. It could have been the first step to repairing their relationship. Instead, she was wasting time with Zachary and Colleen, who had betrayed her confidence by telling Emma everything she said about her.
Jane rushed into her bedroom and picked up the telephone. She was going to call Zachary and give him a piece of her mind. But it was so late and even thought she was irate, she couldn’t bring herself to be rude, for Scott’s sake, if anyone. She put the phone back on its cradle and climbed into bed, angry and depressed in almost equal measures. Her mind raced frantically from Emma to Zachary. She began to blame Zachary for everything, just as Emma had blamed her. Her last thought before drifting off to bed was how sad she felt that they would no longer be friends.
~10~
The ringing phone woke Jane up the following morning. She wearily looked at the caller ID, squinting. It was Zachary. Her stomach instantly knotted. She answered the phone. She’d have to deal with him sooner or later anyway, might as well get it over with.
“Yes?” she asked, sounding annoyed. It struck Zachary as odd. He assumed that she must have had an awful night with Emma.
“Hey, Janey, it’s me, Zachary,” he said.
“I know who it is,” Jane said pointedly.
“Rough night?”
“When isn’t it?” she replied sarcastically. “So Emma said you spoke to her yesterday? What did you do, call her and tell her that I was badmouthing her? Why would you do that Zach?”
“It’s not like that, Jane. She called me last night after midnight to ask for a ride home from Sierra Gardens.”
“She did?” Jane asked, surprised. Emma had failed to mention that part to her.
“I tried talking to her on the way home—just to get a feel for what was going on. She gave me such an attitude. She’s really disrespectful. She didn’t even thank me.”
“But did you really have to tell her everything I told you in confidence?” Jane asked curtly.
“I didn’t outright say what you told me, I just let her know that I knew how she’s been treating you and warned her that she’d better shape up.”
“By threatening to kick her ass?” Jane asked angrily.
“What? No, I didn’t say that. She was just so rude, I caught a tiny glimpse of your life and felt so bad for you. I was hoping it would embarrass her to know that her actions don’t go unnoticed,” Zachary said, getting defensive.
“Well she said you threatened her,” Jane said, defending Emma.
“And you believe her? Well she told me that you abandoned her at Sierra Gardens to go on a date with the photographer...that’s why
she had to call me to pick her up,” Zachary said impatiently. He was beginning to grow angry. He had only called to make sure she was fine, after all, and here she was copping an attitude with him.
“I didn’t know she needed a ride home, she doesn’t talk to me unless she’s insulting me, and yes, I did leave with the photographer who was concerned about me after Emma caused a scene.” She purposefully didn’t mention that Emma had thrown a vase at the back of her head, nearly knocking her out. She had to be careful what she said about Emma. Even though she was only being truthful, she didn’t want anything to get back to Emma and cause further alienation—if that were even possible. Zachary had already shown her that he could not be trusted to keep his mouth shut.
“Oh, I thought Emma was lying about that too,” Zachary said without thinking.
“Why? Because Emma’s such a filthy liar? She may be a lot of things, but she’s no liar,” Jane yelled.
“Maybe she doesn’t lie outright but she’s manipulative, can’t you see that?” Zachary replied angrily.
“She’s s teenager, Zach, she’s not perfect.”
“So now her actions are acceptable to you?”
“No, but I’m sure she’ll come around—but not if she thinks I’m badmouthing her to everyone I know,” Jane responded.
“Look, I’m sorry if you think I’ve betrayed you, I was only trying to help.”
“Well I’d appreciate it if you would just mind your business,” Jane said, still annoyed.
“Wow, you sound just like Emma. I guess that’s where she gets it from,” Zachary snapped back.
“Go to hell,” Jane yelled into the receiver, and slammed the phone down onto its cradle.
Emma heard the tail end of Jane’s telephone conversation and it brought a big smile to her face. Good, she thought, Jane turned my friends against me, now I’ve turned her against her friend. She thought about asking Jane for a ride over to Sierra Gardens to pick up her birthday gifts, but she didn’t feel like dealing with her. She’d just have to find another way to get her presents.
Scenes from the party replayed in her mind and made her shudder. She had never before been so angry and humiliated. She
didn’t even know who she could call to help her out. Maybe Sarah, she thought. After all, she didn’t make Sarah angry, Sarah had made her angry. Sarah should be calling her and apologizing. Yet, there was really no one else Emma could call. All of her friends from the party were mad at her, thanks to Jane.
She reached for her cell phone and called Sarah. The phone rang several times before she heard Sarah’s voice mail. Emma disconnected and called the number again. Just when she was about to disconnect, Sarah answered. Emma could tell she had just awakened her.
“Hello?” Sarah said sleepily.
“Wake up, it’s after eleven already,” Emma said, though she, too, would have still been asleep if Zachary’s call didn’t wake her.
“Who is this?” Sarah asked, having answered without looking at the caller ID. She recognized Emma’s voice but didn’t think it could possibly be her since Emma had treated her so badly the night before.
“It’s Emma, you dummy,” Emma teased as if everything between them were fine.
“What do you want Emma?” Sarah asked in a serious tone, still upset at Emma.
“Do you wanna hang out today?”
“Are you kidding me? Did you forget about throwing me out of your party yesterday?”
“You know I was totally upset about everything, I didn’t really want you to leave,” Emma said, hoping to persuade Sarah that it was all just a misunderstanding.
“I’m not in the mood to hang out with you,” Sarah said tersely.
“You can’t possibly be mad at me,” Emma snapped. “You’re the one who kept taking Jane’s side and making me feel worse.”
“You know, you’re just a real bitch,” Sarah said, finally releasing her suppressed anger. “You treat your mom like crap, you treat your friends like crap. You’re the problem, not your mother.”
Emma was shocked. Sarah was always the quiet one. She never cursed. She had never spoken like this before. It infuriated Emma.
“You and Jane can both drop dead,” she yelled and shut her cell phone off.
Sarah was glad that she stood up for herself and spoke her mind. If Emma couldn’t acknowledge that she was wrong and apologize
for it, she would never speak to her again. She had other friends anyway, much nicer friends who didn’t lash out whenever things didn’t go their way.
Emma was seething with rage. She sat on the edge of her bed trying to figure out what to do next.
She was angry that Sarah was giving her such an attitude for no good reason, but even angrier that her birthday gifts were left at Sierra Gardens. She wanted to see what her friends had given her. There were plenty of envelopes. She knew they had to contain money or gift cards. She pouted like a child while she wracked her brain, searching for a way to get her gifts. She knew that if she asked Jane, Jane would happily take her. Yet the sheer thought of driving to and from Sierra Gardens with big, fat Jane was repulsive to her. She would rather abandon her gifts. Well...not exactly. She wanted them. She deserved them. She cursed Jane under her breath. She really, really didn’
t want to ask her for help. But she really, really, really wanted her gifts.
She stood up quickly, acting fast before she could change her mind.
“Jane,” she yelled out, as she flung her bedroom door open and walked toward Jane’s room.
Jane heard Emma call out to her. Her first thought was to run to Emma’s room and make sure that she was okay. Yet, Emma didn’t sound distressed. She probably just wanted to lash out some more. Jane stayed put in her room, where she was watching the local news from her bed.
“Jane?” Emma repeated, loudly and sternly.
Jane ignored her again. She felt like a child who was about to be reprimanded by an angry parent for doing something terrible. Her anxiety grew, increasing the abdominal pains that had been slowly intensifying since she awoke. Her stomach muscles clenched and she felt instantly nauseous. She pressed down on her stomach, bracing herself for what was about to come.
Emma threw open her bedroom door and it slammed against the wall.
“Didn’t you hear me calling you?”
“What’s the matter?” Jane asked, hoping she sounded far more composed than she felt.
“I need a ride back to Sierra Gardens,” she demanded.
Jane thought about her conversation with Eric the night before. She knew that she could not keep allowing Emma to have the upper hand. Emma was the child, not the parent here.
“Is that how you ask for something?” she asked calmly.
“Are you going to take me or not?” Emma asked anxiously.
“No, I don’t think I will,” Jane said matter-of-factly, looking away from Emma to glance back at the television.
She could almost feel the heat from the hatred emanating off of Emma. She fought the urge to look at her. She stared at the television but had no clue what the newswoman was talking about. Her heart raced, her stomach was killing her and the beads of sweat on her forehead grew visible.
Emma had to process what had just happened. Since when did Jane think she could say no to her? After several awkward seconds, Emma dashed over to the television and shut it off.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Jane asked, her quivering voice betraying her attempt to sound strong and confident.
MOTHER: A Novel Page 11