I hear Mom from behind. “Oh Lord, here we go! Here we go! See what I mean, Margot?”
“Let them stay with me. I’m begging you, Margot.” I’m on the verge of tears now but jump when I feel Mom’s hand on my arm. “Don’t touch me.”
“You need to calm down.”
“I don’t need to do anything.”
The girls walk in with Selwyn in tow. The tension in the room is biting and oppressive.
“Everything okay, ladies?”
Sophia says, “Can we come back here and visit, Mom? Selwyn says we can.”
“We’ll see. Go get your things.”
Mom turns to Selwyn as they leave. “I’d like to thank you for your hospitality. We appreciate your kindness.”
“Think nothing of it.”
Margot starts toward the stairs. “I’m going to help the girls.”
I let my gaze follow her, unsure of what to do next. I felt neglected as a child, and I know I might be putting some of my own stuff on the girls, but I also know for a fact that they used to complain that their mom was “never around” and “ignored them” all the time. Problem is, they’ve grown used to it. We all have. But that doesn’t make it right. I know I’m going into a panic, dangerous territory for a drunk, but for the life of me, I can’t accept the spitefulness of Margot’s gesture. Who sends her ten-year-olds to a boarding school because she needs time with a man? More specifically, a self-absorbed cheat? And not just any ten-year-olds—my nieces. I just can’t let this happen. I glance over at Mom. She’s the only person who can sway Margot, and if I have to beg her to use her parental powers, so be it.
“Can I talk to you for a second, Mom?”
She steals a glimpse at Selwyn in a way that only I would notice. Now is not the time for whatever you have to say.
Selwyn looks from my mom to me, surely feeling the tension between us. “I should get to that kitchen,” he says, making a speedy exit.
Mom rests her hand on her hip after he leaves and stares me down. I’m up for the challenge, though, and refuse to break her gaze.
“Mind if we step outside? For privacy?”
“After you.”
We walk out to the porch. When the sunlight catches her face, I’m reminded of how beautiful she is. When Margot grows older, she’ll look exactly like her.
I come to when she says, “Selwyn is that man you left with at the engagement party, isn’t he?”
“Yeah. So?”
“Are you seeing him? How many men are you seeing?”
“I’m not seeing anyone—not that it’s your business.”
“It’s my business when you’re taking advantage of young men at my church.”
“Mom, I said I’m sorry for that. How many times do I have to apologize? And anyway, I don’t want to fight. I don’t. Look, I am sorry for everything I have ever done wrong, okay? I’m sorry for everything you think I’ve done wrong and everything I’ll do wrong in the future. But let’s just forget about us and focus on the twins, okay?”
“Go on.”
“Is there any way you can convince Margot to let the girls stay? She’ll listen to you. They can stay with you or me—I just think sending them away is wrong. I don’t want them to think we don’t love them. Would you talk her out of it, Mom? Please?”
“You’re asking the wrong person. As I said, I think it’s a good idea. Margot and Curtis need to work on their marriage, especially after what happened.”
“But the girls are a part of their family, too. How is sending them away going to help?”
“You act like she’s sending them to prison. They’ll be fine.”
I shake my head in disbelief. “I’m so stupid. Why did I think you’d help? Of course you wouldn’t get it. You hardly raised me.”
“Don’t you ever get tired of hearing yourself complain?”
I try to think of all I’ve learned in all those lousy AA meetings, but none it of matters at this moment. I can’t recall a word of helpful advice from Sherry or Deacon Morris or any of those stupid self-help books Sherry asked me to read either. All of it is erased by my rage. I step closer to Mom. “You were a terrible mother and you were completely selfish and now Margot is selfish.”
Mom stares up at the sky and takes a long breath as if asking the heavens to give her patience and guidance. She closes her eyes and rolls her shoulders back as if she knew this moment would come and knew she’d have to steal herself for it. “Look, Piper. I know you want to blame me for how your life turned out, but it’s not my fault we lost our Hailey.”
“What?”
“I’ve been talking to Charles, and he helped me see why you’re so angry with me.”
“This has nothing to do with Hailey.”
“It must, and I’m sorry for that. I know I can be hard on you, but you tend to make poor decisions based on her passing.”
I think back to the first time I visited Clem and how angry she became at the mention of her husband. I’m as pissed now, even more so. “Don’t you dare mention my daughter. You don’t know a thing about my relationship with her, or me, and you have absolutely no idea what I’ve been through. I’m sick of it, Mom. I’ve never told a soul what you were like before you met Charles, and you’ve never thanked me. All you do is act like Margot is Miss Perfect while you treat me like I’m the major source of all your problems. But Margot is no better than I am. She pops antidepressants like candy and picks men who treat her like shit. You raised a complete narcissist. She has no empathy and no sense of integrity—and in the same way she ignores the girls, you ignored me. And now you’re going to let her take them away!”
“I’m not going to let her do anything. She’s a grown woman. And you have to remember, Piper, she’s their mother, not you.”
“I know that,” I say. “I know.”
I also know I’ve blown it. I wanted to convince her to let the girls stay, but instead we’re right back where we always end up, arguing over the same old issues. I cross my arms and stare out at the hills in the distance. I’ve lost. The girls are going.
“I’m sorry you’re so upset, Piper, but it’s for the best.”
“Hardly. She’s making a huge mistake.”
“Even if it is, there’s nothing you can do about it now.” She turns toward the door. “I’m going to see if she needs any help.”
“Of course you are.”
She sighs before going inside.
I stare out at the hills in the distance, but then I’m crying and wiping the tears from my face. I’m more composed, at least, by the time Margot bustles out. She clicks the trunk of her car open. “Piper, you should get your purse and whatever, so we can get outta here.” Mom comes out next. She has Margot’s bag and ignores me as she walks to the car and places the bag inside the trunk. She calls for the twins while Margot answers her phone. “Yeah, baby, we’re leaving right now.”
The girls come from around the side of the house with the German shepherd cavorting at their feet until he starts wheezing uncontrollably and plops to the ground. Ella and Louis follow, and the girls get in their last moments of playtime. Selwyn trails from behind.
Margot calls, “P, get your purse. It’s time to go.”
“Is your offer to stay still open?” I ask Selwyn.
“Sure is.”
Margot looks from Selwyn to me and back to Selwyn. “Okaaaay,” she sings. “All right. I get it.” She then says to Selwyn, “Someone on the phone would like to speak to you.”
“Me?”
She gives him her phone, and in an instant he’s clutching his chest as though he might pass out. “Curtis? Is this some kind of joke? How you doin’, man?”
I can’t help but smirk. Why is he so impressed by such an asshole?
Selwyn continues. “It’s no problem, man. It was a pleasure to help. You and your family are
welcome back whenever you want. Okay. No, you don’t have to do that! VIP? No, man, I couldn’t. Seriously, man, season tickets are more than enough.”
Margot smiles and calls out, “Girls, looks like Aunt P is staying here. Say good-bye.”
They run up the steps and give me a hug. I hold them longer and tighter than necessary. I dig my nose into their hair and kiss the tops of their heads as if already having to say good-bye for an entire year.
“Geez, Aunt P,” Sophia says, squirming away. “You’ll see us next week. Mom says you’re babysitting.”
“Yeah, Aunt P, not so tight.”
Selwyn lets out a hoot. “That was Curtis Randolph! He’s sending over a signed football and season tickets in the VIP lounge!”
Mom smiles. “You deserve it. Thanks again for helping my daughter in her time of need.”
“There’s no need to thank me. It was my pleasure. As I told Curtis, you all are welcome anytime.”
“Well, thanks again.” She shakes his hand, then says, “Girls, I know you heard what your mother said. Time to leave.” They run down from the porch and to the car. “Well, are you coming?” Mom asks.
“She’s staying,” Margot says, in her singsong voice. “She’s staying here with Shaaaaawn.”
Mom gives me a look and tosses her eyes, then throws her hand as if to say she’s done with me before getting to her car.
I step down from the porch as Margot gives Selwyn a hug good-bye. When she hugs me, I remain stiff. “I wish you wouldn’t,” I whisper.
“Decision’s made, P. Try to chill out.”
Mom starts for the main road. I keep my mouth shut as Margot walks to her car and climbs inside. The girls turn in their seats and wave good-bye as the Mercedes pulls away.
We continue to wave as the car heads down the long driveway and out onto the road. It’s when they’re no longer in sight that I burst into tears. I cry just as I had in Selwyn’s office, without any warning whatsoever.
“Kilowatt? Oh, Kil,” he says, taking me into his arms. “Hey now. What’s wrong?”
“I can’t stand my mother. I can’t stand my sister. I feel like I’m just—this piece of shit.”
“What? Come on now. You all will figure things out. Sometimes you have to have an argument or two to help get to the bottom of things.”
“I don’t think you understand, Selwyn. My fucking sister is sending the girls away. I don’t get along with my mother; I don’t get along with my sister. If I had any feeling of family, it was from my two nieces. And now she’s sending them to boarding school?”
“Kil, you’re upset because you just heard the news, but we don’t know what’s going to happen. She might even change her mind—or you’ll visit them.”
“I don’t want to visit them; that’s the point. I want them here. They hardly understand what real life is about as it is, and living at a boarding school surrounded by snobby rich kids will only make matters worse.”
“Try to calm down, Kil. We all survive our childhoods.”
“Do we?” I suck air through my teeth. “They’re only ten, Selwyn. Ten. They’re going to feel completely abandoned. And there’s not a thing I can do about it.”
“Kil, come on now. Calm down.”
He tries to take me in his arms, but I step back and cover my face with my hands. “Just give me a second, all right?” I keep my face hidden. I feel hot tears wanting to break free again, but I hold them at bay. By this point I know I should find a meeting or call Sherry or both, but I don’t want to. I’m tired of talking and crying, crying and talking. I’ve had it.
“Kil? You okay?”
“Yeah. I’ll be all right.” I take a deep breath. He tries to take my hand, but I won’t let him. I slowly wipe my face and eyes. When I’m more composed I say, “Can I ask a favor?”
“Of course. Anything.”
“I’d like to take a drive. You know, just to clear my head a little. Do you mind if I borrow your car? I still need to get some clothes from my place, and if it’s all right with you, I’ll go get my things and come back. Would that be okay?”
“Are you sure you’re okay? Why don’t I come with you?”
“I need to be alone. I’ll go get my things and come right back.”
“Okay, Kil. You do what you have to do to take care of yourself.” He kisses my forehead lightly.
“Thanks, Selwyn.”
twenty
I’m spinning as fast as Sophia on the tire swing that hangs from Selwyn’s tree. When the beat changes, I kick my leg up high and spin again. The song is by a teenaged country-pop singer the girls love. I know every word and sing along at the top of my voice. I twirl and two-step, laugh and sing.
• • •
Another country song is playing, but this one I don’t recognize. Nor do I recognize the voices I hear:
“Do you want help taking her to your car?”
“No thanks, man.”
“You sure?”
“No, man, I can handle her. But thank you.”
Someone shakes my shoulder, but my eyes have been glued shut.
“Piper.”
I know I’m sitting upright, though, with my head smashed into what feels like my desk at school. “Gladys?”
I feel the same hand again and another shake. “Piper? Piper!”
I manage to lift my head. As soon as I open my eyes, the room spins and my stomach churns. “Ow.” I wince.
“Come on. I’m taking you home.”
I stare into Selwyn’s face—all six of them. I watch as they swirl around and around one another as synchronized as Uranus’s moons. “Juliet?” I mumble. Uranus’s moons are named after characters from Shakespeare’s plays. I continue going down the list—“Puck? Portia?”—before closing my eyes entirely.
“Oh no you don’t. Wake up.” This time he holds me at the shoulders until I’m sitting upright.
I try to remember what’s going on and where I am as I look around the room—or, rather, the bar. Because that’s where I am apparently—inside a dive bar with booths and a jukebox and a small group of patrons too busy drinking or dancing to the awful country music to pay me much mind.
Selwyn tries to lift me at the elbow, but I fight him off. “Leave me alone,” I gripe. “Go away.” I grab the nearest empty glass. “Barkeep! I’ll have another!”
“Oh no you don’t,” Selwyn says again, taking the glass from my hand. “You’ve had more than enough.”
The bartender walks over and places a cup of coffee in front of me. Selwyn thanks him.
My stomach lurches at the stench. “I’d prefer more scotch, thank you.”
Selwyn pushes the cup under my nose. “You’re drinking coffee here or at my place. Which is it?”
I rest on my elbow as I gaze around the bar. I try and try to remember how I ended up here, but nothing comes. I turn to Selwyn. “Remind me again? Where am I?”
“Downtown Livermore. If you’re not going to drink that coffee, let’s get the hell out of here.” He pulls hard enough that in no time I’m off the stool and trying to find my balance on the shifting floor. I lift my foot as if stepping over a large boulder. Selwyn drags me along, but the sudden motion sends my head and stomach into a simultaneous death spin. “Bathroom,” I mutter. “Quick.”
Selwyn says, “Excuse me, sir. Ladies’ room?”
“That way.”
He pulls me by the elbow through the bar. I clutch my stomach as he practically pushes me through the bathroom door. I run to the first stall and throw up within seconds. It’s as if no time has passed at all, really. No meetings, AA or otherwise. No sobriety chips. No Sherry. Here I am again, head over toilet.
When my stomach has finally emptied, I get up and wash my hands and rinse my mouth with water. It’s when I’m getting a paper towel that everything starts to come back: the g
irls and their good-bye; the drive to my house to pick up clothes; more crying and the thought that I should call Sherry. But instead of calling, I headed back to Livermore, or more specifically, to the nearest bar in Livermore for just one drink before returning to Selwyn’s.
I press my back into the wall and sink slowly to the floor. It’s official. I’m a two-time loser, and my sobriety’s literally down the toilet. I choke back the tears that want to come. I’ll never change. I’m a total failure and alcoholic fuckup.
I find Selwyn at the end of the hall with a perturbed look on his face. I see now how disheveled and worn-out he looks. “Why didn’t you call your sponsor?” he asks.
“Yeah, that would be the question, wouldn’t it?”
“I’m serious. If you knew you wanted a drink, you should have called her or me. Or you could have gone to a meeting.”
“Oh, suddenly you’re an expert on sobriety? That’s great. Just what I need right now, someone else on my fucking back.”
“I’m no expert, but I know childish behavior when I see it.”
“No lectures, right now. I know perfectly well that I screwed up.” I try to walk past him and back into the bar, but he grabs me by the arm.
“This way.” He pulls me toward the entrance. I see he already has my wallet and keys. “I paid your tab. We’re out of here. Thanks again, man,” he says, waving to the bartender and shoving me out the door.
I’m surprised by how dark it is. “What time is it?”
“After midnight.”
I see his truck parked next to his BMW.
He opens the door to the car, and I climb inside. “How did you know where to find me?”
“Seat belt,” he says, putting the key in the ignition.
I oblige. “So?”
“You called. You were so drunk I could hardly understand what you were saying, so I told you to give the phone to the bartender so he could give me the address.” He shoots me a look. “If you knew you were so upset that you wanted a drink, why didn’t you ask for help? You have people who want to be there for you. Besides that, I was worried sick. I had no idea where you were.”
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