by Hendin, KK
Fumbling with my key, I finally unlocked my apartment and stumbled in.
“Well, I would ask Gabe, but I haven’t seen him since the night before we went out with Mary Liz and Jeannie,” she said, following me into the apartment. “I swear, he’s pretty much locked himself into his office when Noie isn’t awake. He takes her to work most days, and he won’t talk to anyone.”
I felt a pang in my chest, and tried my best to push it away. So he was hurting. But he was the idiot who started everything in the first place.
“Well, if you corner him, I’m sure he’d love to tell you about what’s going on,” I retorted.
“Okay, stop it!” Sam snapped, coming to sit next to me on my bed. “You’re both being stupid, and exactly who do you think this is helping?”
“Well, maybe if your brother wasn’t such a jerk, than we wouldn’t be in this situation!” I snapped back, frustrated, confused and more heartbroken than I cared to admit. “If he’s not interested in a relationship with me, okay, fine, I can deal with that.” No, not okay, I couldn’t. “But he didn’t have to basically get a fucking restraining order against me for Noie!”
Sam’s eyes went wide. “What the hell are you talking about, Maddie?” she asked.
I slumped down on my bed, too exhausted to fight anymore. “He basically accused me of feeding Noie lies about Devi, and told me that the only reason I was with him was to talk to my dead daughter through his.”
“I swear to God, that boy has the brains of a watermelon,” she muttered.
I shrugged, and buried my head in a pillow as my tears continued to flow. “I can’t do it anymore, Sam,” I whispered. “It hurts too much.”
Toeing off her shoes, she curled up next to me. “I never told you about the conversation I had with Noie the first day we saw you in the café, did I?”
I shook my head, comforted by her body curled up next to mine. “We walked into the café, she looked at you and said, ‘Look, Auntie Sam, that’s Devi’s mommy’.”
I lay there silently, trying to digest the bomb she just casually dropped. “So, I couldn’t really say I was that surprised when she was so friendly with you,” she continued.
“Didn’t you think she was just being a kid?” I asked, still shaking.
“No,” she said. “I didn’t. You’ve never seen her the way I did, before you came, Maddie. Around strangers. God, I don’t know how Gabe did it before we moved.”
“I saw her at Grandma Evelyn’s party,” I said, remembering the terror in her eyes.
Sam shook her head. “That was nothing. She’s literally fainted from terror.”
My eyes widened. “Fainted?” I repeated.
“Gabe never told you, did he?”
“Told me what?” I asked, heart in my throat.
“About her nightmares,” Sam said, reaching over and curling her hand into mine, a gesture so familiar and sisterly I ached.
“I was there when she had one,” I said. “All he said was that she has them pretty often.”
“He never told you what they were about, did he?”
“No. But God, Sam…” I shuddered, remembering. “It was awful.”
Sam’s fingers tightened around mine. “Noie has been having recurring nightmares since she was around six months old,” she began. “At first we thought they were night terrors, because she was so little, and the doctors told Gabe that there was no way it could have been an actual nightmare. Something about cognitive ability or something like that.”
She sighed. “But it’s the same dream, every time. She doesn’t like to talk about it, but she will, on occasion.” I could hear her take a shuddering breath. “In her dream, she’s in a car going somewhere with her mom and dad.” She swallowed hard. “She’s wearing a pink dress, and she’s excited because they’re going to go somewhere fun.”
I grew dizzy as the blood drained out of my face.
“They’re driving, and her daddy is singing her a song—her favorite song. And then the truck comes out of nowhere.”
There was no air left in the room. “No,” I choked. “No. No.”
“The last thing she hears before she wakes up is her mommy crying for her. Saying she’s sorry, and then saying something in a different language.”
Maiṁ tumasē pyāra karatā hūm. I love you.
“At least three nights a week,” Sam replied, her voice still scratchy from unshed tears. “God, it was horrible, Maddie. Gabe was at his wit’s end—he probably took her to see every pediatric neurologist and psychologist in North Carolina and Virginia. Nothing. They all said it was night terrors. That it couldn’t possibly be anything else. That she’d probably grow out of it eventually, but they couldn’t give him a timeline.”
My heart ached, thinking of what Gabe went through. It had been hard enough for me to watch Noie have one nightmare, but having them so frequently with no end in sight? I didn’t know how he did it. “And then one week, around a year ago, she didn’t have any nightmares,” Sam continued. “She started to talk about her new friend, Devi. And that her friend Devi would come in her dreams with her mama, and save her. She slept normally for an entire week, and so did Gabe. We had just moved here. Noie kept on having nightmares—but not nearly as often. She started singing the sunshine song before she went to bed—none of us had heard it before, and we figured she picked it up somewhere. She told us that Devi and her daddy sang it to her one night before she went to sleep. Bedtime had been hell for Gabe before then—Noie never wanted to go to bed—she knew what was waiting for her when she fell asleep. But slowly, she would start letting Gabe put her to bed, but only if he sang her the sunshine song, because that was the song that Devi told her would keep her safe.”
She paused and looked at me. “Nobody knows exactly why Noie keeps on having these dreams. None of us. But Devi was one of the best things that ever happened to her,” Sam said. “She still had nightmares, but not as often. She started talking to me, and to my parents. Before then, she wouldn’t go near anyone but Gabe. She would panic if he left. She was a shadow before Devi, Maddie. A tiny, little, haunted shadow. And slowly, she began to do little girl things, and she stopped having panic attacks when she went out in public. She would tell me stories that Devi would tell her—stories about her mama with purple eyes who used to sing with her, and her daddy, who called her Priya and painted. And so when we walked into the café and she told me you were Devi’s mama, I was the last one who was going to say you weren’t.”
I leaned over, trying to catch my breath, and I was suddenly reliving that day.
“Birthday picnic, Mama!” Devi shouted as she ran around the room, clad in nothing but a diaper. “Going on a birthday picnic!”
“We are,” I agreed, searching through my closet, looking for something to wear.
“Mama gonna look pretty,” she said matter-of-factly, plunking herself down at the edge of my bed.
“Everyone’s going to look so pretty, Dev,” I said, dropping a kiss on her forehead. “And we have to change your diaper and put on some clothing so you’ll be all ready when Daddy comes home.”
“Daddy gonna look pretty?” Devi giggled.
“Daddy’s going to look handsome,” I said, carrying her to the little alcove that was her bedroom. “Daddy always looks handsome.”
“Daddy’s hot,” she said.
I burst into laughter. “Who told you that?”
“Daddy did, when he gets home from work.”
I giggled. So, not that kind of hot then. Although Ravi would get a kick out of it. “Okay, Princess Devi, what are you going to wear today?”
“Pink!” She grabbed a pink tunic from her drawer and dropped it into my lap. “Pink!”
Always pink.
There was glass everywhere, and Devi was screaming. Everything hurt, and I couldn’t move. “Ravi? Ravi!
No. No.
I tried to turn toward the backseat, trying to keep my eyes off Ravi’s dead body. Oh, God, he was dead. My Ravi. My sunshine.
My anchor. Oh, God. “Devi?”
She was screaming; hysterical.
“Devi, it’s okay, baby, it’s okay.”
But it wasn’t okay. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t see Devi. I looked through the rearview mirror, which was cracked. There was blood everywhere. “Devi!” I screamed.
“Mama!”
She was still alive. She’d be okay. She had to be. Her sobs started to quiet, followed by little gasps. “Devi?”
No answer. There was no sound in the car but the whisper of her breaths, growing slower and slower. “It’s okay, Devi, it’s okay,” I said, my voice hoarse. It wasn’t okay. My baby was dying and I couldn’t fix it.
“I’m sorry, Devi. I’m sorry…” It took everything I had to keep talking. She needed to know. I needed her to hear this. “Maiṁ tumasē pyāra karatā hūm. Maiṁ tumasē pyāra karatā hūm. Maiṁ tumasē pyāra karatā hūm…”I love you. I love you. I love you.
The firemen said that’s how they found us.
Ravi and Devi, dead on arrival. Me? Drifting in and out of consciousness, murmuring in some foreign language none of them understood.
It was a tragedy, they said.
They didn’t know the half of it.
“Does Gabe know?” I asked, my head still spinning.
“About what?”
“Everything.”
“I told him about it,” she said. “He didn’t want to believe it. The nightmares worry him to no end, trust me, but believing past life experiences, especially something like that? He doesn’t want to believe it, honey. That’s why he’s so freaked out about you being Devi’s mom for real.”
“Because if that’s true, then so is the rest of it.” I finished the sentence for her.
She nodded. “Exactly.”
We lay there for what seemed like forever. “God, Sam, what am I supposed to do?” I asked, hearing my voice break. “What should I do?”
“About which part?” she asked.
“Any of it. All of it.”
“Honey, you coming here was one of the best things you could have done for Noie,” she said. “And for Gabe.”
“And for me,” I whispered.
Because it was.
She squeezed my hand. “I don’t know what you’re going to do,” she admitted. “But we’re going to fix this, okay?”
“I don’t know if I want all of it fixed,” I admitted.
Sam turned her head to look at me. “Madeline?” she said. “Do you love him?”
I glanced away, not willing to meet her eyes. “I don’t know,” I whispered, feeling the words scrape out of me. “I could.”
“We’ll fix it,” she said, her voice soft. “Because I’m pretty sure he loves you, too.”
I could feel my eyes start to droop. It had been a long night. “Love you, Sam,” I whispered.
“Love you, too, Maddie,” she whispered back.
There was a note on the nightstand when I woke up the next morning.
Maddie–
I had to get back home to change before work. We’re going to work this out, I swear.
Love you,
Sam
I could feel the tears threaten to start. I clutched the letter and thanked God, Vishnu, the universe, karma, whoever, for the day that I met Samantha Jo Mendez.
“Good morning,” Grandma called as I walked into the kitchen.
I smiled at her, this smile not as hard to plaster across my face. “Good morning,” I replied.
She tilted her head and looked at me for a minute. “You doing okay there?” she asked.
I shrugged. “Better,” I replied.
“Good,” she said. “Bring these muffins to the front, please, darlin’.”
“Sure,” I said, grabbing the tray and heading toward the front.
I could do it today. I could let my heart breathe through today. Because Gabe or no Gabe, I still had Sam. I had Hannah, Mary Elizabeth, Chris, Bryan, and I had Grandma Evelyn.
I was finding the people who helped my heart breathe.
I smiled as I slid the tray into place. Salena was proud of me, I knew that.
The bell tinkled, and I continued to wipe down the counter, trying to scrub off a stubborn bit of food that had dried there during the lunch rush. “Good afternoon,” drawled a voice.
I froze.
I knew that voice.
That deceptively pretty voice. One that haunted Sam. Haunted Gabe.
What the hell was she doing here?
Looking up, I plastered a smile on my face, itching to run screaming in the other direction. God, this was the last thing I needed right now. The last thing any of us needed now. “Can I help you?” I said, clenching the rag.
She was beautiful.
There was no two ways about it. Diane was the kind of person that made you wonder if you deserved to be breathing the same kind of air as someone who looked like her.
Flawless.
If I hadn’t hated her before, the jealousy that snuck up on me now made me hate her. No wonder Gabe doesn’t want you. This is who he used to date.
God, Noie was going to be beautiful when she grew up.
“I’d like an iced coffee, skim milk and two Splendas,” she said, smiling at me.
She had no idea who I was. Why would she? It’s not like she would.
“Anything else with that?” I asked, teeth clenched. I had to call Sam. I had to make sure she didn’t come in with Noie.
I had to keep Noie safe. Regardless of what Gabe said, of what he wanted to believe, of what he wanted to accept, I always would love Noie with everything I had. And there was no way in hell that I was going to let Diane near Noie. Absolutely no way.
“That’s all,” she said, perching her hand on her hip. Pulling out the ingredients for her iced coffee, I eyed her surreptitiously. Her clothing was tacky but expensive, and it looked like her roots were starting to show.
I was perversely pleased by that.
“You’re not from around here, are you?” she drawled.
“No, I’m not,” I replied.
“Oh.” She looked disappointed.
“Why?”
“Oh, I was just looking to see if some friends of mine still were in town,” she said, smiling.
Oh, no you weren’t.
“Well, I’ve been here for a while,” I said. “Maybe I know them?”
“Oh, maybe,” she said. “Gabe Mendez?”
Every cell in my body turned on red alert. “Gabe’s not here now,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm.
“Are you sure?” she asked, her voice not as sweet anymore. “Because I heard that he was.”
“You must have heard wrong,” I said, finished preparing her iced coffee.
“Oh, well, that is such a shame,” she said. “I know that he wants to see me.”
“And I’m sure you heard wrong about that, too,” I muttered.
“Excuse me?” she snapped.
“I’m sorry?” I replied, pretending I didn’t say anything.
The bell tinkled and I tensed. Don’t let it be Gabe, I prayed. Don’t let it be Gabe.
“Hey, Maddie!”
Shit. Sam.
I looked frantically, and breathed a small sigh of relief. Noie wasn’t with her.
Diane’s expression grew practically feral and she turned around. “Oh, my!” she chirped. “Samantha Jo Mendez! I was just talking about you!”
Sam’s eyes narrowed. “What the hell are you doing here?” she snapped, stalking toward us. The café had gone unusually silent, as if the patrons knew that something was happening.
“Oh, I was in the neighborhood and I was just on my way to see your brother,” Diane said, her smile terrifying.
“Over my dead body,” said Sam, fierce. “Don’t you have a boyfriend waiting for you in Florida? Robert? Or has he figured out that you were doing his dad, and maybe hanging out with a walking STD isn’t a good idea for his sexual health?”
I nearly choked as I tried to keep fro
m laughing.
“Excuse me?” Diane hissed, leaning toward Sam.
“Next time you start whining on the phone in a dressing room, maybe you shouldn’t do it loud enough for all of us to hear your conversation,” I said, tired of Diane and her stupid, pointless drama.
She had to leave.
“You, too, Miss I’m Not From Here?” She leaned toward me. “I have some advice for you, Yankee bitch. Stay out of other people’s business.”
I had grown up with my mother, and had watched her take people down, piece by piece. Diane had nothing on Miranda Jane Darlington-Gray. Nothing.
“Oh, honey, this is so my business,” I replied, letting the ice creep into my voice.
“Well, yes, I do have a friend Robert,” she said. “And since I’m moving down to Florida, I thought that it would be best if I took my daughter with me.”
Something inside of me snapped.
Leaning over the counter, I lowered my voice until the only ones who could hear it were Diane and Sam. “I’m going to say this one time,” I began, letting myself channel the infinite bitchiness that was my legacy as a Darlington-Gray. I may have embarrassed my mother, but damn if she hadn’t taught me how to put people in their place. “Because that’s as many times as it’s going to be necessary for you to hear this, do you understand, you pathetic excuse of a gold-digger? Excellent.”
Diane flinched a little. But I was nowhere close to done with her. “When Noie was born, you signed away all rights in exchange for a very, very, very large sum of money. There are papers that state to this effect. Gabe paid you, and you left, and that was it. Now, obviously, you’ve run out of money, and chances are Robert isn’t actually going to let you move in with him. I wouldn’t be surprised if he already has a harem of women installed in his house, each one as pathetic as you are. But in much better luck, because they’re with him, and you’ve stooped to attempting to blackmail Gabe again. Again, because I know you’ve done it before.”
I leaned forward, just enough to make her take a small step back. “Unless you’re pining for a nice, long stay at the North Carolina State Penitentiary, I would leave Eno if I were you. Not only would I leave Eno, I would leave the state of North Carolina. I happen to be friends with the governor of North Carolina, going to school with his daughter and all, and I know that he would be quite interested to hear about this little predicament of yours. Not to mention the overdue credit card bills which I’m sure have been collecting.”