by Shannyn Leah
“Mom?”
Emotionless hazel eyes looked at her. She pulled her fur hood off her head and dirty auburn hair fell over her eyes.
“What are you doing here?” Cheyenne asked.
“This is my mom’s house,” her mother said.
That was true and those words were all Karen cared to share with her daughter, simply using Millie for a place to crash. It was hard to believe that some mothers cared so little about their daughters, while others, like Booker’s mother, put their kids before everything. Millie did the same, put Karen first, always had, even when she’d acted like an ungrateful child.
Millie looked at Cheyenne and she saw the stress of her decision.
“She can have my room,” Cheyenne said. “I’m staying with Booker tonight.” Which now included locking his bedroom door, wedging a chair or desk in front of it and not sleeping at all.
Her grandmother’s lips rose, but she didn’t look happy as she turned to her daughter. “You can have the spare room.”
Lily didn’t look thrilled by the arrangement. Arms folded, lips pursed, she stared at Karen with accusing, suspicious eyes.
Without a word, Cheyenne’s mother turned and walked out the front door leaving everyone staring dumbfounded.
“What just happened?” Lily asked.
“I’m not sure,” Millie said, walking toward the door, just as it opened again and Karen came back in with a huge bag, and a friend in tow.
Millie stopped dead in her tracks. “Who is that?”
“A friend. He’ll stay in my room,” Karen said.
“Absolutely not,” Millie said.
“What? Why not? You just said I could have the spare room.” She sounded like a whiny child.
“I said you could have the front room, not two of you.”
“What’s the difference? He’s with me.”
“No.”
Cheyenne knew why her grandmother was getting defensive, she was protecting Cheyenne. She hadn’t been able to protect her when she was fifteen, but she stood up for her now. Millie had never said no to Karen. Ever. But now she was protecting her granddaughter.
Tears threatened to spill down Cheyenne’s cheeks, knowing how hard standing up to Karen was for her grandmother. Cheyenne had never told Millie the truth about the night she’d ended up in the hospital in critical condition. She’d almost not lived through the night but, with no explanation from Cheyenne, Millie had blamed the guy Karen had been dating at the time…only it hadn’t been him.
Cheyenne stepped away from Booker and touched her grandmother’s arm. Unknowingly, Millie had already invited the one to blame into her home. “Grandma, it’s fine.”
“No, it’s not fine,” the old woman said, her voice stone cold. “I refuse to have any man of yours under my roof.” She pointed at her daughter. “You are more than welcome to stay here, Karen, but you only. Either he leaves alone or you take him and get out.”
Karen’s eyes widened in anger. “What the hell kind of lies did you tell my mother?” she hissed at Cheyenne. “You were always a little liar. A little brat who told stories to make people feel sorry for you.”
Cheyenne felt all eyes on her, including Booker’s. They hadn’t ever talked about this part of her past, not really. Now with her mom standing here, Cheyenne couldn’t help but wonder if Booker would run. Her past was a mountain of turmoil and he was no good at handling conflict.
“Mom, calm down. I didn’t say—”
“Me calm down? You’re the liar here.” Karen took a step toward Cheyenne and she took five steps back. Her back hit the staircase and she flew around like someone had attacked her. Panic drove through her like a drill, quick, and spinning her world around.
“Cheyenne?” Millie touched her arm and she flew back around ready to fight her off, but blinked at the sight of her innocent grandmother.
“Hey.” She heard Booker’s voice somewhere in the terror of her thoughts, but couldn’t pull her eyes away from her mother. When he touched her, she jumped from him, too, feeling the pain of a bat slamming into her head. She felt the burn of a cigarette end sizzling her skin and the smell.
“Cheyenne?” Her grandmother grabbed her face and searched her eyes, but she didn’t have to look far. Cheyenne watched awareness sadden the old woman’s features. The lines around her lips dug deeper into a frown and tears filled her eyes.
“Karen, take your friend and go,” Millie said, eyes never leaving Cheyenne’s.
“You believe her? That lying brat over me?”
Cheyenne zoned out as Millie let her go and moved away. The screaming intensified, the room spun and she was too afraid to come back until shouting arose for a whole other reason.
She watched as her grandmother stopped screaming and her legs buckled. Lily’s fast movement helped the woman to slide to the ground gracefully.
“Something’s wrong,” Millie said. “I don’t feel right.” Her words came out rough and broken.
“Call 911!” Lily screamed. “Grandma, what’s wrong? Tell me exactly what’s wrong?”
Cheyenne’s trembling fingers picked up the phone Lily tossed at her. She pressed buttons, but her unsteady hand brought up the wrong screens.
She was useless.
Booker covered her hands and said, “Ambulance.”
Cheyenne looked up, relieved to find him on his cell phone giving their address. “Go,” he mouthed to her.
Her tears mixed between fear and gratitude as she dropped to her knees, smoothly talking to Millie, and trying to calm a shaking, freaking out Lily. The commotion left no room to deal with her mother or even remember she stood only a few feet away. All Cheyenne’s energy wound into prayers for her grandmother’s life.
***
WHEN BOOKER’S TRUCK stopped in the hospital parking lot, Cheyenne couldn’t jump out of the back seat fast enough. Stuck between her mother and a random man made her sick.
Their touch. Their smell. Their presence.
The cold, fresh air stung her lungs, the snow crunched beneath her feet and, before she knew it, she stood in front of the towering hospital.
She halted as memories flooded uncontrollably past the wall she’d built. A downpour of emotion without warning rendered her motionless, speechless and filled with a fear she’d long forgotten.
Her surroundings passed by in slow motion, a tirade of activity all silenced by the pounding in her head. The doors in front of her opened and shut for nurses rushing in from the cold. Her mother walked straight past Cheyenne, giving her a knowing look of the last time they’d entered a hospital together. Nightmares assaulted Cheyenne’s mind but even her own mother didn’t notice her trembling hands, or nervous eyes. Or she didn’t care enough to notice. The building held no regret, remorse or fear in her mother as she walked straight through the automatic doors.
Cheyenne stood unmoved.
At the sight of an ambulance, sounds, voices, and memories of the night she’d thought death would take her exploded in her head.
Eddie shuffled inside now, catching her attention. He paid less notice to her than her own mother, which she appreciated not wanting to be centered out when Millie should be everyone’s main concern now.
She watched Eddie walk inside the hospital, but didn’t move. She could see not much had changed. Inside, the white desk circled around the left of the building. The waiting room, glassed off beyond, still had the uncomfortable burgundy chairs, and the white halls leading linoleum floors to the emergency still appeared to shrink the longer she stared. Exactly the same.
Cheyenne couldn’t go in there.
One foot stepped back. Paused. Then the next followed.
Her heart stopped beating and she wasn’t sure the last time she’d took a breath.
“Cheyenne?” Booker stood behind her. His concerned voice gave her strength to breathe, but not enough to go inside.
She stepped back again.
“Cheyenne.” The way he said her name, understanding but challenging, tore h
er stare from the lit sign above to where he’d moved in front of her.
“I can’t,” she said.
“You can.” He had no idea.
“I can’t.”
“One day at a time. One hour at a time. One minute at a time…” He quoted her advice to others. He held out his hand. “One step at a time. I’m right here. One step.”
Cheyenne’s legs trembled as a fog of images blurred her mind.
“Take my hand,” he said. “Your grandmother is in there.”
“So is my mother,” she breathed.
“Lily is in there. Eddie and me. I won’t leave your side as long as you need me.”
“I—”
“Can. One step.”
The quivering of her body extended down her arm as she lifted it from her side and slipped her hand into Booker’s grasp.
One step.
His triumphant smile moved her first foot.
One step.
The next followed, and the next. Without him she would have walked in the other direction. To where? Millie’s house probably. To be alone. Being alone was her safe place. No questions, no critical looks.
“We’re here about Millie Collins.”
Cheyenne looked at Booker as he inquired about her grandmother. She couldn’t name the feeling sweeping over her static nerves while watching him take charge. His touch sent tingling support into her limbs, and the sudden awareness of knowing, without a doubt, that he would always be there for her warmed her insides. The only other person who Cheyenne held that kind of faith in had been rushed into the hospital just moment prior.
“Cheyenne!” She turned as Lily crashed into her, wrapping her arms around her neck. “They took her away,” the girl sobbed against her shoulder, sounding like a child.
Cheyenne stood paralyzed, stagnant, her arms immobile beside her, but her mind filling with so many thoughts, she found it difficult to hear her niece above the din.
Lily reminding her of where they stood and fear overwhelmed her. Lily needed Cheyenne to be her rock, but undertaking the situation felt like her heart would ignite a blast that would be the end of her.
Lily didn’t notice. “They wouldn’t tell me anything. They just took her away.” Cheyenne supported her niece’s weak body. Booker’s solid hand touched her back, giving her support, strength and courage.
One step.
Cheyenne returned Lily’s hug, running her hands over her hair. “Shhhh,” she whispered. “They’ll tell us something as soon as they know.”
“Please stay,” Lily pleaded. “I know you want to leave, but please don’t leave me.”
“I’m right here.” The next words were forced out through her closed throat. “I’m not going anywhere.”
***
“MILLIE SUFFERED A heart attack. It was caught early, which is good, and we’re restoring her blood flow.”
Relief streamed through Cheyenne and she watched color return to Lily’s ghostly white face. A tear slipped down the girl’s cheek and she swiped it away, blinking wildly to prevent the others from following.
“But she’s going to have to stay the night for observation,” the doctor explained.
“How long?” Lily asked. “Will she be out for Christmas?”
Cheyenne rubbed her niece’s arm. “Lily we can celebrate Christmas whenever she’s released.”
“She will have to stay here for at least three days. Could be more. We will see how she’s doing at that point.”
Karen scoffed. “I want to see her now.”
“Yeah,” the man with her mocked.
What was he even doing here? Booker and Eddie had enough respect to remain in the waiting room, but this man who hadn’t known Millie longer than a day wobbled his drunken self over to argue with the doctor.
“We drove all this way. Through a snow storm.”
Cheyenne closed her eyes and rubbed her face, taking a deep breath. Just like old times. How many times had she sat in emergency with one of her mother’s boyfriends while the doctors pumped her stomach? They were all the same, loud, mouthy and rude.
“You will have to wait until she’s transferred to a room,” the doctor said.
“Why?!” Karen shrieked.
Lily jumped at her aunt’s booming voice and Eddie stood from his chair and started toward the commotion.
Cheyenne remained composed, used to her mother’s melodrama. “Eddie, everything’s fine,” she called over. “Millie is stable.”
Her eyes found Booker’s concerned and caring eyes. For a moment, she took all he had to give, and then pulled herself back to the meeting.
“I’m sorry,” she said to the doctor.
“What are you apologizing for?” Her mother’s high-pitched voice echoed down the walls, now disrupting others waiting in the room worried about their loved ones. Her mother had always been selfish.
“This moron won’t even let me see my own mother.”
Lily’s eyes widened in shock, going back and forth between Karen and Cheyenne, silently pleading for the episode to end. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out. Her mother had that speechless affect on people.
“Mom, they’re keeping her alive.”
“You heard the man, we caught it early and she’s fine. Let us see her,” Karen demanded.
“I’ll send a nurse when she’s ready for visitors. One at a time and not for long.” The doctor nodded before turning to leave.
“This is what’s wrong with the system!” her mother’s boyfriend, Paul, she thought Karen had said, called after him, revealing black streaks across his yellowed teeth, making Cheyenne’s stomach curdle. “Doctors like you are what’s wrong with our system!” He turned to no one in general and added, “I’m going to have a smoke.”
“We’ll be waiting here!” Karen continued to harass the doctor as Paul left. This was turning into a circus. “We don’t have all night.” The emergency door shut behind the doctor and Karen muttered, “Bunch of prissy pompous morons.”
Lily looked at Cheyenne to silence her, but her niece didn’t understand, there was no silencing Karen Collins. Karen Collins did not have a turn off switch, or silencer. She would need tape, and rope to wrap her mother up like a present.
“What are you looking at?” Karen snapped at the innocent nurses behind the counter.
Lily walked away, shaking her head.
Booker stepped toward Cheyenne, but she shook her head, stopping him.
“Mom, can I talk to you outside?” she asked.
“Why?” Her mother’s smeared eyeliner creased together with her sneer.
“Enlighten me.” Cheyenne could barely get the words out. Stepping outside with her sounded like a death wish. Literally. But it had to be done.
Karen muttered a few profanities but started toward the exit.
Cheyenne apologized to the nurses as she passed.
The crisp, cold air brushed a frosty chill across Cheyenne’s bones. But it was nothing in comparison to the stare Karen sent her.
One step.
“You need to stop being nasty to the staff. They are helping Grandma the best they can and don’t need your condescending attitude. Refrain from raising your voice with others waiting in the room for their loved ones and get your thoughts in check before opening your mouth.” Cheyenne paused and blinked. The words had rushed out surprising her, terrifying her, yet exhilarating her. She’d never spoken to her mother with such strength.
But when her mother’s eyes clouded with anger, Cheyenne reversed twenty years with that one look. A slap had always followed that look. A kick, a punch or worse, a weapon if one was within her mother’s grasp.
One step.
“You’re drunk and high…”
Cheyenne couldn’t finish her sentence before her mother gripped her arm so tightly she winced. Karen’s broken fingernails dug through the material of Cheyenne’s shirt and her true colors came out, just like twenty years ago, just like that night. “Don’t you talk to me like that,” she slurr
ed.
She wanted to pull away, but knew the action would infuriate her mother into creating a humiliating scene, or give her the satisfaction of knowing her pain.
“I am not your little girl anymore,” Cheyenne said. “Throw a punch, and I will give it back two fold. Pull out a knife and it will be your body they stitch back together.”
Karen stared at her a long time, daring her to throw the first punch. What her mother didn’t understand was that she hadn’t raised herself. Cheyenne was nothing like Karen. She would undoubtedly defend herself, but she would not be the cause of turmoil.
Karen let her go, giving an extra shove.
“I’m calling you a taxi,” Cheyenne said. “I want you and your friend—”
“Boyfriend.”
Weren’t they all.
“Go back to Grandma’s house and wait for me. Do not touch anything. Do not break anything. Do you understand?”
“I understand you’ve grown into your Grandmother.”
“It’s better than the alternative.”
Sharpness sliced through her mother’s foggy eyes. “I gave you everything.”
“I know. I have the scars to prove it.”
“You spoiled brat.” Karen’s voice hitched up to her shrieking tone. “Why don’t you repay me for all the crap I had to do for you growing up? All the bills I had to pay, the food I had to buy. You were worse than the idiot government selfishly stealing my money and leaving me broke. Pay me back what you owe me!”
“That’s why you’re here,” Cheyenne said, thinking to herself that she shouldn’t be as shocked as she felt. “For money. You visited Grandma because you need money.”
“I deserve my money.”
“Oh my God.” Cheyenne let out a humourless laugh. “Grandma could die and all you’re thinking about is how to get your next fix.”
“If you give me what you owe me—”