She thought about how humiliating it would be in school the next day. There was no way she could face those people. By then everyone would know about her lame party and fat Jane. Even the kids who didn’t go would hear about everything and hate her just as much. She could imagine them pointing and snickering as she walked by. They’d probably call her fat too.
Emma made up her mind. She would not go back to school. She didn’t want to face anyone. There was no one on her side to help her, to give her strength. Everyone was against her. Jane ruined everything for her.
Instead of going to school, she would call her father. Even though she was angry and disappointed that he did not attend her party, she would rather live with him than have to spend another day here with Jane. She wondered if he was living in Connecticut still or in New York. She hoped that he was living in New York. She always liked the city and planned on moving there when she grew up. Now she didn’t have to wait as long, assuming that’s where he was.
Thinking about leaving Jane’s house for good made Emma feel a little better. At least there was some hope left for her. She could have a fresh start at a new school and make new friends who would never know about her obese pig-of-a-mother.
Though she would miss Sarah. What a shame that she had turned against her like that. Emma wondered if Jane had said something to Sarah, poisoned her mind against her somehow. Come to think of it, Jane probably said something to her dad—that would explain why he didn’t attend her party. It all became clear to Emma now. Jane was purposefully trying to screw up her life. Emma worried that
whatever Jane told her father would make him deny her request to live with him.
Suddenly, she began to panic. She got out of bed so quickly that the room began spinning, her vision faded to black and she had to sit down to avoid falling. She blinked quickly, praying that she hadn’t gone blind. There was a ringing in her ears that reminded her of those old emergency broadcast systems tests. Slowly, the ringing stopped and she regained her vision. Her heart pounded in her chest. It was a terrifying experience. She breathed slowly until the dizziness abated.
She stood up slowly and walked uneasily to Jane’s room. Jane was still on her bed, using her laptop. She jumped when she heard Emma approaching.
“You scared me,” she said apprehensively.
Emma looked pale and sickly to her. Her gait was slow and unsteady. She looked as though she were in a trance.
“Are you feeling okay?” Jane asked worriedly.
Emma stopped a couple feet away from Jane. She had to hold on to the footboard of Jane’s bed for support.
“What did you do?” she asked in a low, monotone voice that sent chills up Jane’s spine. Between her appearance and mannerisms, it was a scene that could have come from a horror movie. Jane figured Emma must have discovered that her cell phone service had been suspended.
“You need to learn that there are consequences for your actions,” Jane answered as calmly as possible.
“You’ve ruined my life,” Emma said, again hauntingly mellow. She had an eerie look in her eyes that made Jane fear for her safety. She set the laptop on her nightstand and sat up.
“You’ll get it back on your birthday,” Jane said, and quickly added, “if you behave.”
Emma had forgotten about Jane’s threat to suspend her cell phone service, believing at the time that she was just bluffing. She had no idea what Jane was talking about, as evidenced by her perplexed facial expression.
“My friends back? Thanks to you they all hate me. What did you tell them?” Emma became more animated and loud as adrenaline surged through her body.
“I didn’t say anything to your friends,” Jane said softly, relieved
to see Emma’s display of emotions, despite her growing concern for her own physical safety.
“Just like you didn’t say anything to Mr. Connor? I saw you talking to Kelly.”
“I didn’t say anything to Kelly about you,” Jane said truthfully.
“Like you didn’t say anything to Dad? It’s your fault he didn’t come to my party.”
“No, I didn’t say anything to your father either. Don’t blame me for his actions. Though it’s nice to know that he was invited to your party and I wasn’t,” Jane said sadly.
“He paid for my party,” Emma said nastily.
“Try not to forget that I paid for a party for you too,” Jane reminded her again.
“Yeah, after I’d already made plans,” Emma argued. “It was probably lame anyway.”
Jane did not reply. She did not want to argue with Emma. Her presence always aggravated Jane’s persistent abdominal pain. This encounter was no exception. Jane pushed down upon her stomach, trying to mollify the excruciating burning sensation.
“What’s the matter? Your fat hurts?” Emma said mockingly.
“You know I’ve been feeling a lot of pain in my stomach,” Jane said, even though she knew Emma wasn’t the least bit interested in her troubles.
“Whatever,” she remarked snidely. “Just stay out of my life and away from my friends.”
Emma turned and walked back to her bedroom. Jane heard the door slam seconds later. She wished Eric would call her. He had been a blissful escape from her cruel reality. Even if their relationship never went further than friendship, she hoped he would become a part of her life. With Zachary no longer befriending her, she needed someone to talk to, someone to help fill the ever-increasing void in her life.
Minutes turned into hours. Jane realized that it was past dinnertime. She had no appetite whatsoever, but as always, worried about Emma. She didn’t know whether she should offer to cook dinner or leave Emma to fend for herself. She could always make herself a sandwich or heat up some leftovers if she got hungry. Yet,
Emma was beginning to look sickly thin—almost emaciated. Jane suspected that Emma was not eating properly.
She walked downstairs to the foyer where her purse was and pulled out a twenty dollar bill from her wallet. She placed it near her purse. Then she walked back upstairs and paused in front of Emma’s room. It was so quiet in there that Jane wondered if Emma had left the house without her hearing. Just when she was about to turn the door knob, she heard Emma sneeze. It startled Jane and she jumped, withdrawing her hand quickly.
Jane chuckled silently at the irony of how uncomfortable she felt in her own home, with her own daughter. It was like living in a horror movie with her the role of the concerned parent to a scary daughter, possessed by a demonic force. She smiled again, though it wasn’t at all funny. It was all she could do to maintain her sanity.
Jane knocked on Emma’s door and said “there’s money near my purse if you want to order pizza.” Without waiting for a response, which would likely have been cursing, screaming and insults anyway, Jane walked back to her room and stayed there for the remainder of the evening.
Jane hoped and prayed that Eric would call. As it grew later and later, however, it seemed less and less likely and she grew increasingly sullen. The disappointment weighed heavily on her already overburdened soul. At 11:20 p.m., Jane shut her television off, washed up and went to bed, with pain in her stomach and tears in her eyes.
~12~
The next morning, Jane woke up with Eric on her mind. She hadn’t slept well at all, tossing and turning as she thought about Emma, Eric and even Zachary. Nothing in her life was going well. She felt like she had a hangover and appendicitis all at once. She thought about making an appointment to see her doctor. She hadn’t been to a doctor in years.
Her thoughts wandered back to Eric and she found herself wishing she had never met him. He had gotten her hopes up. The disappointment was so much harsher than her lack of companionship had been in the first place.
Yet, Eric had seemed so sincere. Perhaps he had a busy day. He was probably working, Jane thought. Maybe he was taking photographs at a wedding or bar mitzvah or birthday party or...or maybe he was just not interested. Then why did he say he would call? Why lie, Jane thought angr
ily. Then again, I did tell him I would call, Jane thought. Her emotions were on one crazy, endless rollercoaster ride.
Jane didn’t know whether she should be angry with Eric for not calling her, or angry at herself for not calling him. She had considered doing so a few times yesterday but didn’t want to appear too desperate, even if that’s exactly how she felt. She was more old-fashioned in the sense that she thought the man should be calling and arranging further dates. Then why did she say she would call? “Stupid idiot,” she whispered to herself. She had been nervous and wasn’t thinking straight.
Then Jane began to panic and her anxiety level increased ten-fold as she wondered whether Eric may have been angry at her for not calling. Maybe while she was foolishly waiting for him to call her, he was waiting for her to call him as she had promised. He has every right to be pissed off, Jane thought, laboring to catch her breath. She probably screwed everything up by being too timid.
When would she find another man interested in her, especially one
so seemingly perfect?
Jane was hyperventilating. She propped herself up on her elbow and tried to calm herself down. She was no stranger to panic attacks. She began having them shortly after she discovered Gregory’s extramarital affair. She thought she was having a heart attack. She had even called 911 and was taken to the hospital in an ambulance.
After running tests, the doctors concluded that she had experienced a panic attack. She had a few more minor ones within the next few months and had learned to control them. She took slow, shallow breaths and tried to focus her mind on calm, soothing thoughts—anything but the drama in her life.
After several minutes, she regained control. She had a wicked headache and her stomach felt as twisted as a pretzel. She considered calling in sick. At least then she wouldn’t have to see Zachary. But since her boss was already trying to get rid of her, she didn’t want to take any chances. Slowly, she got out of bed, dislodging thoughts of Eric from her brain, concentrating only on taking a shower and getting through her work day.
Before leaving for work, Jane knocked on Emma’s bedroom door. There was no answer. She tried to open the door, but it was locked. She knocked again, loudly.
“Emma, I’m leaving for work. Do you need a ride to school?” Jane asked.
Emma did not answer. She had still been asleep. She did not bother to set her alarm clock since she had no intention of going to school. She stirred in bed, unsure whether the noise she heard was just part of a dream, until Jane knock again, even louder.
“Can’t you at least answer me? Do you need a ride or not?” Jane asked, losing her patience.
“No!” Emma shouted, hoping Jane would just leave. Miraculously, (at least from Emma’s perspective), Jane gave up and walked downstairs.
When Jane grabbed her purse on the way out, she noticed that the twenty dollar bill was gone, yet she hadn’t heard anyone delivering pizza last night, nor did she see a pizza box in the refrigerator earlier. Apparently Emma had swiped the money. Jane just hoped that she had at least eaten something before bed.
Moments later, she walked out of the house, silently closing the
front door behind her. She climbed into her car and found half a roll
of antacid tablets within the center console. She popped two of them in her mouth and fastened her seatbelt. From up in her room, Emma could hear Jane’s car start and slowly drive off.
Emma looked at her clock and grimaced. It was too early to get out of bed. Yet, now that she was awake, she didn’t feel like going back to sleep. Normally she would stay up late texting her friends. Last night she was asleep by ten since she didn’t have anyone to text, call, or chat with.
Out of habit, she checked the screen of her phone to see if she had any missed calls or messages. Nothing. She didn’t expect any, but was hoping someone still wanted to be friends. She was desperate enough to even hang out with Tina, whom everyone regarded as strange.
As Emma reached over to place her cell phone on her nightstand, she remembered that she wanted to call her father at his office. She had added him to her contact list, anticipating that he’d remain an important part of her life from that point on. She had even assigned a distinctive ringtone for his calls, even if he had only called her once so far—to complain about how much she had spent on the party.
Emma found his name on the list and pushed the “call” button on her phone. Instead of ringing, there was a message informing Emma that her phone was not in service at the time. Emma’s mouth opened wide as she realized what Jane had done. It was no bluff. She had actually turned off her phone service just as she had threatened.
Incensed, Emma threw her phone across the room violently as she screamed out, “THAT BIIITTTTCCCCHHHHH!” She yelled so loudly that her throat felt raw afterward. She trembled with rage as she got out of bed and walked into Jane’s room.
Jane is not getting away with this, she thought, as she looked around the room for something to destroy. What would hurt Jane the most? She’d start with that stupid picture of the two of them—the one from her graduation. Jane loved that picture. Emma grabbed the decorative ceramic frame and threw it violently on the floor. It shattered into dozens of pieces. She was content that there was no possible way the frame could be repaired. Yet, the picture from the frame was still intact. She pulled it from the jagged remains on the floor and tore it up into confetti-like pieces. “There,” she said out loud to the empty room.
Then she saw Jane’s laptop on her nightstand. She smiled mischievously, knowing what had to be done. She walked over to Jane’s closet and opened the door. She made a disgusted face as she browsed the oversized clothes on the hangers. There was a pile of shoes on the bottom. Emma reached over and grabbed a shoe with a long, pointed stiletto heel. Her heart raced with excitement as she carried the shoe to Jane’s laptop and flipped open the top, exposing the shiny, large screen. Her grip on the shoe tightened as she repeatedly slammed the heel into the laptop screen. The screen shattered easily and she gasped, taking great pleasure in having destroyed Jane’s laptop. She threw what was left of it on the floor and walked back to her room, grinning madly, not caring about the possible consequences of her destructive behavior.
Her manic euphoria abruptly vanished as she entered her room and remembered that she had no cell phone and no friends to spend her time with. Her mood swung from frenzied elation to deep melancholy. She felt hopeless. She picked up her cell phone and walked downstairs to the kitchen. She picked up the house phone and dialed the phone number she had stored in her cell phone for Gregory’s office. His secretary promptly answered.
“Can I speak to Greg Winston?” she said in a waif-like, quivering voice.
The secretary recognized her voice from when she had called a few weeks prior, but could not remember her name.
“You’re Greg’s daughter, right?” she asked, to be sure.
“Yes,” Emma answered quietly.
“Is everything okay?” the secretary asked, just to snoop for information.
“I just need to speak to my dad,” Emma replied, on the verge of tears.
“He’s not back from his trip yet,” the secretary informed her.
“Trip? What trip?”
“He had to attend a conference in Dallas, hun.”
There was silence on the line. No wonder he didn’t go to the party, Emma thought, he put his job before his own daughter.
“You still there, hun?” the secretary asked.
“Yes,” Emma answered in a soft voice, barely over a whisper. The secretary could tell that Emma was crying.
“Would you like to leave a message for him?”
“Can you give me his cell phone number?” Emma asked shyly.
“Oh, no, I’m not allowed to give out any personal information,” the secretary replied, surprised to hear that Emma didn’t have Gregory’s cell phone number.
“But I’m his daughter,” Emma pleaded.
“I’m sorry, hun, I just can’t do
it,” the secretary said sympathetically.
There was another pause on the line. The secretary considered breaking the rules and giving Gregory’s cell phone number to Emma. What harm could it do, she was his daughter after all. Then she remembered the last time she broke that rule...she had to practically beg to keep her job. She simply could not take the chance.
“Is something wrong? Are you injured or something?” she asked Emma.
“No,” Emma answered, “I just need to talk to my dad.”
“He has your number, right?” the secretary asked.
“Yes,” Emma replied softly.
“I’m sure he’ll call the office today, I’ll be sure to tell him to call you right away.”
“Thanks,” Emma mumbled and hung up before saying goodbye. She was too upset for pleasantries. She hoped her father would call her before Jane came home from work.
“Shit!” Emma exclaimed. She didn’t know if her father still had their home telephone number. He had her cell phone number, but now, thanks to Jane, he’d be unable to reach her that way. She pressed the redial button and waited to hear the secretary’s voice.
“It’s me, Emma, again. Can you tell my father to call me at—actually, will he be back tomorrow?”
“He should be back tomorrow,” the secretary confirmed.
“Don’t mention that I called, I’ll call him back tomorrow,” Emma said nervously, and hung up.
Strange child, the secretary thought. She wasn’t very fond of Gregory either. She knew that he had cheated on his wife and now he was cheating on his girlfriend. In her opinion, he was a total loser, though his personal affairs really weren’t her business. He had always treated her respectfully.
Emma was upset that she wouldn’t be able to get in touch with her father until the next day. She was planning on leaving their
home phone number with him, but she didn’t want to risk having him call while Jane was home. Worse, if Jane answered his call, she would surely screw everything up, as always.
MOTHER: A Novel Page 14