“Oh, please, mom. You don’t consider what I have to say—”
“That’s not true!”
“Well, it has been since Rachel died!”
The color drained from beneath her makeup-covered face. She stared at me like I’d just told her I was pregnant, rather than mentioned the name of my twin sister. She bit her lip, jaw quivering as she turned away.
And I couldn’t stop. “I don’t know why you’re marrying a pessimistic jerk wad when you had dad. The mother I knew—I thought I knew—didn’t act like a depressed ditz all the time!” I grabbed my purse off the ground and stood up. Major headache coming on. “I can’t take it anymore, mom.”
“Rosalia!” She yelled as I aimed for the door. “ROSE!”
The door shut behind me. I was half jogging down the hall when I turned the corner and nearly hit Grandpa Mike head on. “Whoa, Rosie!” He laughed, reaching out to balance me. “I was just heading down to—hey… what’s wrong, honey?”
“Nothing, Gramps.” My stomach gurgled with nausea as I realized what’d just gone down back there. “Just go get her and let’s get this over with.” I snaked around him before he could say anything else.
Seating myself in the very back row next to some older folks I didn’t know, I sat well away from the aisle so no one could see me. Dabbing at my eyes, I laid my head against the wall as they started the ceremony, sending the flower girls down the aisle. Then came Lacey’s son, the ring bearer boy, then the bridesmaids.
My eyes were just drying back up when mom came down the aisle. She looked hollow and pale as a banshee while clinging to Grandpa Mike’s arm. He was whispering to her as they went, mom nodding. I could see her searching for me with every step, and every time her eyes came close I ducked or pretended to be searching for something on the floor.
“Dearly beloveds,” the pastor started at the head of the church. He went on to discuss the usual wedding stuff, the lines you heard at all weddings whether it be real life or television. I was barely paying attention.
Lyle was half way through his vow spiel when—
“Pst!” Someone whispered behind me. “Pst! Hey! Denise’s daughter!”
I straightened up, then glanced over my shoulder. It was slightly shocking to see a blonde woman crouched behind my bench. It was even more shocking when I realized she was familiar, that I knew her.
It was Ita. She looked better today, not all exhausted and balling, though the dark circles were still there—were those just the new trend for everyone now days?—she was wearing a pink dress, too, though hers was tight and V-cut versus flowing and strappy. Her hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail.
“I need to talk to you,” she whispered urgently. The old couple next to me turned and gave her a reproachful look. “Who was that boy you were with? At the wedding shower?”
You know who he was. I forgot to breathe. “Meet me at the after event.” I glanced back at mom and Lyle. “I need to talk to you too.”
She bit her lips together, then nodded. Standing up, she slid around the side of the bench. “Scooch over,” she whispered.
I obeyed, heart beating as she settled beside me. Her being near made Hayden suddenly seem so much closer for some reason, like he was just in arm’s length. It was a stupid thought, I know. Hayden wanted nothing to do with his mother, but in a way I was comforted. This woman shared his genetics, had his same blue eyes and skin tone. She was a piece of Hayden.
Mom was on her vows now. My foot started tapping, anxious for the ceremony part of the wedding to end. Ita must’ve been having a hard time restraining herself, too, because she whispered, “How long have you been friends with him?”
I shook my head. “Not long.”
“… What’s his name?”
I stared at the floor, hesitant. “I think you know that one.”
She made a funny exhaling sound, closing her eyes. There was a long pause— in which I was sure she was swallowing tears. “Did he know when he saw me? That’s why he took off, isn’t it?”
Now the middle-aged couple in front of us was looking annoyed, so I just nodded to avoid verbal reply.
“Oh,” Ita sighed, shaking her head. “I’m so sorry about what happened—”
“Ma’am.” The old woman beside me leaned across the bench, glaring. “If you can’t be quiet, go out in the hall!”
“Sorry—I’m sorry.” She held a hand up, voice sincere.
The woman eyed her, then straightened up beside her husband. Her wrinkled face was red and tense.
The pastor was on some ramble right before the, I do’s. I watched Ita in my peripheral vision, messing in her purse. She pulled out a napkin and I heard the click and scribble of a pen. A second later she tapped my arm, and I glanced over at the note she’d written.
Did he tell you who I am?
I took her pen and wrote back.
Yes.
I slid the napkin towards her. She read, then nodded. Her face was a mixed display of joy and sorrow. She started writing again. I’m so sorry I ruined your night. I haven’t seen him in so many years. I should’ve done more to stop him. There’s so much I need to say.
I tried to smile, thinking of how shady Hayden had been while talking about his mother. I suddenly remembered she’d left him, and this made me question just how much I should like or tell her. Should she know that Hayden disappeared? I replied with:
It wasn’t your fault. Don’t blame yourself.
I handed her the pen back. She scribbled. I do blame myself… for everything.
The pastor had finally made it to the, I do’s. I was trying to decode what Ita was talking about when she said “everything” but I made the mistake of looking at mom. The woman who I shared genes with was looking ghastly. As Lyle was reciting the pastor’s words, she swayed—a little more than was normal.
“And do you, Denise Ridgewood, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse—”
Mom was turning white. White as her dress, from the forehead to the collarbone. Her arms were shaking, rippling in goose bumps.
“Oh my God,” I said aloud. Everyone that heard threw me a dirty look.
She was going to pass out! This was about to turn into a live episode of America’s Funniest Videos, only for the first time I wasn’t sitting on the couch at home roaring with laughter and eating popcorn while making fun of the bride.
“As long as you both shall live?” The pastor finished up and looked to mom.
I was up, moving towards the end of the bench. “Excuse me.” I passed the old couple who was looking murderous now by the amount of interruptions.
“Ms. Ridgewood?” The pastor repeated.
Lyle leaned towards her, whispering something. But mom couldn’t speak. The shaking from her arms rippled throughout her body, her eyes glazing over.
I flew down the aisle just as she went back. Lyle reached for her and missed. I leapt onto the altar just in time to have her keel back on me, sending both of us to the ground. The church erupted in cries, gasps, and an overall spastic panic. People were rising, Grandma Ellen was rushing forward from a couple aisles back, the pastor stepped aside and Lyle was kneeling next to me.
“Denise!” He gently patted her face, eyes wild. “Honey! Honey, are you ok?!”
But mom was out like a light, the weight combination of her body and the dress crushing me as she lay sprawled across my legs and lap, my arms around her waist.
“Somebody call an ambulance!” Lyle shouted.
I saw the pastor pulling out a cell phone from inside his blazer pocket. People were gathering around us now, bridesmaids, groomsmen, guests I didn’t know. Everyone panicked over the unconscious bride.
“Rose, are you alright?” Aunt Dana appeared, dropping to her knees.
“Yeah,” I muttered, possibly in shock. “But I’d like out.”
“Good catch, baby.” Grandma Ellen came through, pushing the crowd aside. “Everyone back! Give her s
ome air,” she ordered, summoning her authoritative voice from her school teaching years.
Lyle held mom up while Dana pulled me out, helping me to my feet. She folded an arm around me, guiding me towards the crowd’s outskirts. As I held onto her shoulder for support, I realized I was panting. “Are you alright, honey?” Dana gave me a tiny shake. “Hey, are you ok?”
I nodded. “I just—”
“Oh my goodness!” Old Mrs. Mason burst out in hysterics a few feet away from me. Her husband tried to comfort her, rubbing her back as she sobbed on his shoulder. She was totally overdoing it. How Hayden had anything in common with this woman really was a phenomenon.
I glanced towards the back of the room. Ita rolled her eyes at her mother as she stood in the aisle, then watched as Lyle scooped mom up and brushed her hair from her face. She was slowly coming to, but my stomach curled as the scene unfolded. In a weird way, I had a feeling I was responsible for this. She’d been nervous enough without my yelling at her.
I’d just ruined my mother’s big day…
*
“Yeah. She’s fine, dad,” I said to the phone. My head hung over the back of the waiting room couch, eyes wandering the ceiling.
Dad huffed something that was half a sigh, half laugh. “Well. We knew that SBM of hers was going to cause severe side effects someday.”
A nurse passed me, heading down the hospital’s main hall. “Dad, this really isn’t the time to be joking. Seriously,” I said.
“Yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry,” he apologized, then mumbled, “Well, sort of.”
I rubbed my face, tired, not really in the mood to talk anymore. “I’m going to go. I’ll be home soon.”
“Hang in there, honey. Call me if you need anything.”
“Bye.”
His line hung up first.
I set my phone on the glass coffee table, slouching deeper into my seat. My dress was wrinkling and scrunched, trying to ride up my legs. Even though I wouldn’t say it aloud, I wondered if things could get any worse this week.
Dana rubbed my arm, sitting beside me. She was in her formal attire as well. “Don’t worry, honey. Your mom’s going to be fine.”
I didn’t respond at first. I was too busy feeling guilty, faint… dead. “This is all my fault, Dana,” I whispered.
“Rose, whatever gave you such a thought?” she demanded, crossing her arms.
I slowly began the recap of what happened before the ceremony, how we argued in the back room at the church. “I told her I couldn’t believe she’d chosen someone like Lyle when she’d had dad,” I finished, staring like a zombie into space.
“Oh, Rosie,” Dana sighed.
I laid my head against her shoulder, her cheek pressing into my hairline as she took my hand. It was an understatement to say I felt awful, yet I had no more tears left to cry. My tear ducts had finally gone on strike. Instead, the nausea was kicking in full throttle.
Dropping my head on Dana’s lap, I prayed to not throw up. The smell of antibiotics and cleaner that wafted through the hospital air didn’t help. I stayed there for a while, letting her unravel and finger-comb the rest of my hair (I’d yanked the clip out on the way here). When I was finally well enough to sit up again, I told Dana to tell mom I was sorry. It was time for me to go home.
I managed to get out of the parking lot and down the main highway. I had just turned onto Johnson Avenue when the road started to spin. Ah, hell. Pulling over just in time to open the door, I hurled right over the top of Ms. Brigg’s flower garden. It was one of those moments that you’re really glad jobs and working hours were invented, and that people didn’t stay on their properties twenty-four seven. Her car wasn’t here.
Entering the driveway, I actually felt a little better. Exhausted, like I’d just swam the English Channel, but the nausea had subsided.
“Rose?” Dad entered the hall as I was closing the closet door. “Holy smoke, you look awful.”
“Yeah. You should see Ms. Brigg’s flower garden.” I rubbed my forehead, then snorted. “I pulled over and upchucked right over the top of her new lilies. She’s gonna freak when she comes home… hopefully there were no witnesses.” I hadn’t thought about that one. I hope nobody had seen my Mitsubishi pull over.
Dad was on the verge of laughing himself silly, then covered it up with a few coughs. “Uh, when was the last time you ate today? Have you drank any water?”
“No on the water, and, um, eleven this morning.”
“Jeez, no wonder you’re sick. You haven’t eaten all day. Come on.” He put a hand on my back and guided me to the kitchen. “I’ll make you a sandwich.”
After eating a light meal, I left dad at the TV. I managed to make it through about twenty minutes of reading Blood and Chocolate in my room before realizing I wasn’t going to make it. Dropping the book, I promised myself a ten minute break, but that apparently wasn’t what was needed… I zonked.
24) Intruder
A
nother afternoon passed me by that day. The last of sunset was what I woke up to at around eight’ o’clock. Yawning, I slinked out to an empty living room and saw a note perched on the kitchen counter. Rose
Out with the guys. Saw you were sleeping.
Back by eleven.
Love, Dad
“Mm.” I crumpled the note, then glanced over at my bag. Check phone? It was
a thought I’d literally had a hundred times this week. Nah. If anyone had bothered to call me, it would be the same outcome: someone other than Hayden. I went and logged onto Myspace, replying to some comments instead. I saw Cheyenne and Ashley were both online, and once Chanel came on, I was able to occupy myself for a good hour with some IM chatting. As I was waiting for Ashley to reply to an IM, I clicked on my friends list. My insides curled as I spotted Hayden, Drake, and Lea’s profiles—all of which I’d been avoiding.
There was no picture present for any of them today.
A terrible mix of dread and anger erupted through my system. I clicked on Hayden’s profile. The whole thing had basically been demolished—just like his apartment. No silver background, no grey boxes. All the sections were empty including the About Me section and the personal interest stuff down the side. His stupid screen name Hayd.I.Am had been changed to, The Unavailable. Comments, gone. Pictures, vanished.
“No,” I breathed, then dove into Drake and Lea’s profiles. They were just the same, just as empty. Leaving no evidence for anyone.
I slammed my fist on the desk, feeling my heart wither like a half smashed spider. It was like he was trying to not only get away from the police, but get away from me. The one access I had left to him, and it was basically gone.
I was officially hopeless.
Instantly getting off the computer, I couldn’t hold still. Dad’s small house was suddenly giving me claustrophobia. It was time to go, time to do something besides sit. But I didn’t want to drive… I wanted to run. I used to go jogging around the neighborhood in the spring when the temperatures warmed back up. It was the middle-end of November, but it was still warm enough to run outside.
I dug around my drawers, slightly nauseous again. I was pulling on some black short-shorts when the knives in the window caught my attention.
The tips were uneven, not touching at all now, like they’d been bumped recently… and I hadn’t touched them.
What the? Stomping over, I ripped them both out of the window and went to dump them in the sink. Coming back, I glowered at the night sky, scanning the empty-as-usual yard.
“Alright, Adrian,” I snapped. “You want me that badly? Come and get me. There’s nobody stopping you. Your fricking son has abandoned me! Just like you abandoned Anita…” I stepped away, dropping the curtains. “Come on. I triple dare you.”
Ripping off the pajama top I’d been wearing, I wadded it into a ball before launching it at the computer. “Stupid tears,” I snarled as they returned. “Stupid Hayden! Stupid mom. Stupid, stupid… stupid! Ugh!”
A car engi
ne hummed outside. I was tearing my dresser apart when I heard it. Great, it’s probably dad. I shook my head, pulling on a blue and black tube top. Pull it together, Rose. Pulling my tennis shoes on, it dawned on me that dad had left his Sentra at the shop. Therefore, he was driving the truck. And the truck didn’t have a low hum, and he usually revved it up (he tends to think he’s sixteen) a few times before parking.
I stilled, standing in my doorway. Uh oh. Adrenaline dispersed into my system. Adrian hadn’t heard my spiel… had he?
“Uhhh, I didn’t mean that!” I confessed aloud, creeping down the hall. I’d just turned into the living room when—
I gasped and dropped to the floor. A shadow passed the curtains outside. Someone was on the sidewalk. Crap! A double shiver flew up my spine as I crawled across the living room floor. Curse my big mouth. I slowly tugged the front room curtain aside.
A cobalt blue Mercedes was parked in the driveway, right next to my Mitsubishi.
“Shit,” I cursed, terrified. Dropping the curtain I made a silent sprint for the kitchen, checking the window lock. “Oh come on, Adrian. What do I have that someone else doesn’t?” I whispered. “You can’t possibly want to eat me that bad; there’s way prettier girls to suck the life out of—”
The doorbell chimed. Muffling a squeak, I dropped to the kitchen floor. “Ok, Rose,” I breathed. “Don’t, panic.” Heck, who was I kidding? The king of the dark faerie court had come to claim me for God’s sake!
I grabbed one of my steel knifes from the sink, trying to remember what I learned in PE about self defense. Never hit with your fist, Mr. Boyer had said, doing a demonstration with his palms. You can break fingers or wrists using a fist. Hit with the lower half of your palm. Not that I was planning on hitting Adrian if he was going to try and kill me—I’d stab the jackass right through the heart like they did in vampire movies… only I think they used a stake. And if he tried to put his lips on my body? Tried to rape me? I’ll castrate him. No second thought. Right through those tight pants and all. However, for a moment I did wonder what the faerie world would do to me if they found out I’d neutered one of their royals.
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