"Hey!"
A strange voice was invading my darkness. I didn't recognize it, and it was interrupting my peace. I chose to ignore it and let the darkness close in again.
"Hey! HEY!"
Dammit, there it was again. Whoever it was, he was determined not to let me sleep. I lifted my head and looked around. Oh, shit, I'd fallen asleep, like DEAD asleep in the sandwich shop. My hand was wet with drool and I wiped my mouth. "Oh, I'm so ..." crap, what was that word I needed to use? "Sorry. I'm sorry. I'm just so tired."
The hulking man stood there glaring at me. "Yeah? This ain't no hotel."
Okay, total aside here, but I have such a problem with people who use the word "ain't." Not to mention ain't combined with no to make it a double negative. He was basically telling me it was a hotel. Oh, shit, I need to focus on what he was saying, rather than how he was saying it. "Right, sir, I know. I'm sorry."
"Well, whatta you waiting for? You leavin' or do I've got to throw you out?"
I stood up, still weak and tired. It probably didn't help that I hadn't eaten in ages. My stomach grumbled. Loudly. The hulk looked at me and scowled even more, although I would not have thought his face could get any meaner. "Get out of here you bum!"
I moved as quickly as I could to the door and out into the brisk November air. The temperature had dropped precipitously and I was instantly chilled to the bone. I looked right and left and tried to decide where to go. Luckily, I was in a business district, and there was a pizza place a few doors down. I was immediately engulfed by the scent of garlic and baking cheese, and my stomach grumbled again. I ordered a two-slice-and-soda combo and virtually inhaled them as soon as they arrived. This inhalation, of course, resulted in a burned roof of my mouth, but I didn't care. I was actually surprised that I was able to eat both slices, as well as drink a twenty-ounce Dr. Pepper. My appetite had been so poor since the accident. I had lost a tremendous amount of weight, and now looked pretty anorexic. Combine that with skin that had gotten even pastier and the red geri-curls that were now growing in and I was mighty fine looking these days. No wonder that guy in the shop yelled at me. He probably thought I was some tweaked-out, homeless-druggie bum. I almost couldn't blame him for yelling at me to get out of his shop. Of course, I did have that Pretty Woman fantasy of being able to go back in some day and tell him what a big mistake it was for him to judge me so harshly and wrongly. I needed to make that possible. And, in order to do that, I needed to change something. I needed to let go of all the negativity. Right there in that moment, I knew I had to make myself be positive again.
My belly full, caffeine coursing through my veins, and my feathers in a ruff at being misjudged, I stood up quickly, determined to go back to Aster's. My life was a disaster, no doubt about it. I mean, that asshole in the sandwich shop was not far off. I was pretty much homeless, jobless, and was now relying on disability and welfare food stamps to make ends meet. Aw, hell, who was I kidding. Even with all that, I wouldn't be making ends meet if it weren't for Kingston. I needed some positive karma and quick. I knew deep down that this wasn't all Aster's fault. I mean, part of it was an accident. She didn't intend for me to end up with a head injury, right? I was going to tell Aster that I forgave her and just move on with my life. I could forgive her, but that did not mean that I had to let her back in. I would tell her that I needed more time, but that I was no longer going to be resentful at how my life was going these days. I could do this. I could be positive and move on. And then good things would finally come my way.
I made it back to Aster's in about half the time it had taken me to get to the sandwich shop. I was running on adrenaline. See, positivity was already working. I prepared myself to tell Aster what I had to say and then turn over a new leaf. I practically skipped up Aster's front path and rang the doorbell.
What I was not prepared for was for Cheryl to open the door.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
In my head, I had some witty zinger that did not betray my shock at seeing my mother in my sister's house. But, true to life, I just stood there with my mouth agape. My speechlessness for once had nothing to do with my aphasia.
I looked at my mother. She looked terrible. She looked much older than her sixty-five years. Her hair was a dull, non-descript color, somewhere between platinum blond and gray, and hung down, limp and stringy. Her face was weathered and leathered, having spent too much time out in the sun. Years of drug use were showing, as she looked gaunt and puffy at the same time.
Apparently, Cheryl had a touch of aphasia as well, because she stood there staring at me. Awesome. I wanted to turn and run. That's what I did with my family. I knew I could not win with them, so I ran away. Apparently, I had driven all the way up to Minnesota to see Dean and then never even went in his hospital room. Despite the fact that I had returned to Aster's to bury the hatchet with her, the past decade, no past three decades, of hurt came flooding over me.
She broke the silence contest and spoke first. "What do you want?"
"I'm here to see Aster." My hands were clenched at my sides. I hoped my voice did not betray the tension that my body felt.
"She's busy right now." Cheryl paused, looking me up and down. I felt like something the cat had dragged in. "You look like you're recovered."
"No, I'm recovering. They expect it to take a few more months, and there may be some residual deficits."
"Well, you look fine to me. Certainly better than when we were there and you had half of your head missing."
Her words cut, as they were meant to. Cheryl had always been flaky and out there, but when had she turned mean? Apparently, her ugliness wasn't just skin deep.
"I'm coming in. I need to sit down." I tried to push past her. She planted her feet and held her ground. "I don't think that is a good idea. Aster is still very fragile, and we don't want you riling things up, like you always do."
Then I knew, in that moment, that I would never be part of my family again. I didn't think it was that unusual to have tiffs and rifts, but this was an impassable schism. There was nothing that could repair that bridge.
"Fine. Can you at least give Aster a message for me?"
"I guess."
"Tell her that I forgive her." And with that, I turned away and started walking away for the last time.
"You forgive her? Well, you're really a piece of work, aren't you?" The acidity dripping in her voice made me pause and listen. One last barrage and then I would be forever done. "I cannot believe you think that Aster has done anything that you should be forgiving her for. If anything, you should be begging and groveling for her to forgive you."
I had to take the bait. I couldn't resist. Without even turning around I snapped, "What am I supposed to be asking for forgiveness for?"
She laughed bitterly. "That's so Esther. Going through life without a care in the world. Never thinking about anyone besides yourself."
What?!?
"What, you don't have a snappy comeback? What happened to that smart mouth of yours?"
The anger and, in that moment, the hatred poured out of me. I spun around and shouted, "I have a brain injury, in case you hadn't noticed."
Again, the vitriol flowed from Cheryl. "And what are we supposed to do, pity you? You brought this all on yourself."
To repeat myself, what?
"How exactly did I manage to bring this condition on myself?"
"You've done nothing but exude negativity for so long that it was bound to come crashing back on you. When you saw Aster again, her positive energy pushed all your negativity back onto you, and this is what you get."
Okay, that didn't even make sense. She certainly was grasping, wasn't she? It was pretty obvious that she hated me, but I didn't even know what I could have possibly done to deserve her treatment.
Quietly, making her strain to hear me I asked, "What did I ever do?"
"What do you mean?"
"What could I have possibly done to deserve your hate? Wasn't I a good enough child? I always did what I
was supposed to. I watched out for Aster. You had to have known how much I took care of her. All those nights sitting up with her. Going to get her when she got herself into trouble. I worked hard in school. I did all my chores. I never asked anything from you, but you've never even loved me, have you?"
"You know how I feel about the numbers."
What?
"What are you talking about?"
"I need even numbers." She was always weird about things like that. I never really considered it, but she probably had some obsessive-compulsive disorder going on. Growing up, she always had to put things in pairs. Nothing could be asymmetrical in number, or Cheryl wasn't happy. "And you, you were odd."
Of course. There it was. She was blaming me for being born.
"I didn't ask to be born. That was all you and Dean."
"I just can't figure out why the universe would do that to me. It—you—were the ultimate punishment. Always making us odd. And then, you always stuck out even more. That hair that defied rule and order. You always were too perfect, making Aster look bad. You were the smart one and that made Aster feel badly about herself. And then you even made Aster sick, claiming that she was unstable. Of course, she was going to believe it. You drove her away and then you moved away, which kept her from us for even longer. If she hadn't been traipsing all over the country after you, she would have come home sooner."
How does one even respond to this? As we often said at work, there is no rationalizing with the irrational. And just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, Dean appeared behind Cheryl. His gray hair, even finer than before, was still in its trademark ponytail. He looked thin and old. His heart attack and surgery left him looking as frail as I felt. He looked at me and then at Cheryl. "What does she want?"
Christ, I was like she-who-cannot-be-named. "You know, Dean, I have a name and I am your daughter."
He looked at me blankly. "No, you are not. I told you that many years ago. Nothing has changed."
"What do you mean nothing has changed? You have your precious Aster back. I thought that would finally make you happy."
"Aster is back, but she is not the same. She is angry with us."
"And that's my fault because?"
Cheryl looked at Dean. "I told her that the universe is punishing her for her negativity towards Aster all these years."
I had enough. Once they started talking to each other it was like I didn't exist. And it hit me. I didn't exist to them. I had ceased to exist when Aster disappeared. I was fed up, so I let them know it.
"Well, MOM and DAD, I guess the universe got even with you as well by giving you me. Perhaps I am your punishment for all of your sins and transgressions. But don't worry, I'm done. You won't ever have to worry about me darkening your doorstep again."
I turned around, willing myself to walk away from her slowly. Dr. Olsson, I mean Rob, was standing there, having witnessed my verbal dressing down by the person who was supposed to love me most. Perfect. Just perfect.
But instead of hating me for being born like my own mother did, he closed the distance between us and took me in his arms. My adrenaline was rapidly draining from my body and I felt like I could barely stand. Again.
"C'mon, Esther. Let me get you home."
I nodded and willed the tears not to start, but they did anyway. Rob deposited me in the front seat of his BMW and ran up the front walk to the house. I saw him talk to Aster, who was now standing in the doorway where Cheryl had been. He gave her a quick but tender kiss on the lips and my heart wrenched in my chest. I didn't want to see her loved and happy. She didn't deserve it. She deserved to be alone like I was.
My whole life, I had been passed over for Aster. It never really bothered me because I was just as infatuated with her as everyone else. Rob was certainly not the first guy I had been interested in to choose Aster over me. It bothered me nonetheless. I mean, I didn't want Rob. Not really. I knew that. Rather, I didn't want yet another person picking Aster over me. That was what it was about. I had Kingston who loved me and cared for me. But he was separate from all of this. Rob was in the middle now, and it seemed that he was choosing Aster and my parents. No one ever chose me. Why was I never good enough? I guess because, when push came to shove, I was never wanted. By anyone. Now it at least made sense why nothing I ever did was good enough for my parents and why it was so easy for them to let me go. I could never figure out how they could not let go of Aster, but could let me go incommunicado and never attempt to get me back.
I was not wanted. I was never wanted. I was blamed for stealing Aster's place in the sun and the easy scapegoat for Aster's illness. I guess I had always felt this way, but there was something earth shattering about finally hearing it confirmed.
Rob opened the car door and quickly got back in. I was going numb, from the inside out. "Esther, are you all right?"
I shook my head a little. How could I possibly be all right?
"Esther, look at me."
I turned my head only, the rest of my body limp against the black leather seats.
"Esther, you ..." he faltered. I shook my head and turned it to stare out the window. Now, granted I didn't actually remember our date, but it was no wonder that he never called me. My own mother didn't want me. My father didn't want me. Why would anyone else?
"Oh no, Esther, you've got it all wrong."
Shit, was I speaking my thoughts again? Dammit, I really had to get a handle on that.
"Okay, then tell me why—how—you ended up with Aster instead of me?"
He sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Okay, but it is going to be bad."
Sarcastically, I said, "And just when I didn't think I could feel any lower. Thanks for kicking me when I'm down."
"No, no, no. I didn't mean it like that! I meant, this is going to make me look bad. Okay, here goes. I know you have some memory gaps, but do you remember anything about our date or how it came about?"
Turning a bit pink, which is a disastrous color on me because of the hair, I sheepishly admitted, "Um, no, not really. I remember working with you on the Children's Services case, but that is about it."
"Okay, then you don't remember Melissa ."
"Nope, who's Melissa?"
"Lucky you to be able to forget her. Melissa is my ex-fiancée. She's also a doctor at the hospital, and the night that we met up again, she had been working with O.K. on a grand rounds presentation, which is how you ended up stranded in the first place."
I was totally clueless about this, and made him tell me the story. "So, I was still basically trying to piss Melissa off by screwing every attractive girl that I met, and I was trying to do that with you."
"Gee, thanks, I think."
"I was pretty confident that you were a sure thing when we went out. And you were so hot up there singing. I couldn't wait, but then you kind of got all weird. Even back at your apartment, you were still off. I knew you were into it before, but then I felt like I would have been taking advantage of you, so I stopped."
"So, it wasn't me?"
"Well, you were definitely shaken up, and I thought it was about the singing thing. Now it all makes sense. I felt guilty about taking advantage of you while you were obviously—"
"—going crazy?"
"No, you, well—something seemed off."
"So that was it then? You didn't think I was worth going back for since I didn't put out the first time around?"
He was quiet for a minute. "No, Aster asked me out right after that. I said yes, and that was it. We've been together ever since."
"Did she put out for you on the first date?"
"I don't really think that's any of your business, but I will tell you this. I really liked you. I did. I thought you were cool and funny and smart and pretty. And so incredibly sexy when you sang. I was attracted to Aster as well, and it wasn't until I found out that you are sisters that it made sense. In some ways you two are alike and those are the qualities that I liked in both of you."
"But still y
ou chose her over me, just like everyone does." I couldn't help pouting, but I think this situation totally justified it. Again, I knew it wasn't really about Rob. He was more a symbol of what our family had done—picking Aster over me. Rob didn't say anything in response. We were pulling up in Kingston's driveway. I wanted to get out of this car and run away and hide forever. In this moment, I could not ever picture feeling good about myself again.
As I fumbled to unbuckle the seatbelt, Rob put his hand on mine. It was warm and made me feel a bit tingly inside. Figures. He's off limits to me. "Esther, I liked you. I do like you. By the time I went out with Aster once or twice, O.K. had asked you out and basically told me to stay away from you. So I did. Things just happened that way. It wasn't because I didn't like you or find you attractive. Because I did. You're a super cool girl. Don't forget that."
"Thanks, I guess." I mumbled. Rob was not only easy on the eyes but a pretty good guy, too. It was a shame that he had to be dating my sister. I hoped she didn't hurt him like she hurt me.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
"I cannot believe you did this!" Kingston was furious and fuming. He was always so laid back and easy going that I honestly could not believe he was capable of getting this worked up.
"Calm down, jeez."
"Calm down? CALM DOWN? You want me to calm down? Do you even know what you put me through this afternoon?"
"I doubt your day could have been any worse than mine. And I don't have to sit here and take this shit."
"Esther, I thought you were missing. I was getting ready to file a missing person report on you."
"Kingston, I was only gone a few hours. Simmer down."
Oh, boy that did it. He had been angrily stacking and restacking magazines on the glass-top coffee table. Now he jumped up and was pacing back and forth. He was waving his hands as he spoke. If the day hadn't been such a colossal disaster, his performance would have been a bit comical. He sort of looked like a chicken being electrocuted. And the more he flapped and flailed, the more I found it funny. There he is, totally losing his shit at me, and I couldn't hold it in any longer—I burst out laughing. I knew it was inappropriate, but the more I tried to stop, the more I couldn't. This whole thing—him acting out, me, my family, my supposedly dead sister, it was all utterly ridiculous.
I'm Still Here Page 21