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Never Did Say

Page 7

by C. M. Stunich


  “Ghosts wield great power, even from the grave,” Ty says softly, tapping the cigarette against his knee in thought. I scoot a little closer to him, realizing as I do a little something about us in the action. All of the sex we have, I thought it had something to do with our addiction, like we were each other's drug. As I lay my hand over his, I wonder if it's really about closeness, if we're just so desperate to get our bodies as close as our souls already are. “I wish I could say her death might bring you some peace, but if you had to be strong before, Never, you're going to need twice that now.”

  Ty turns to look at me with haunted eyes, and I realize that with everything that has been happening to me, he still has issues we need to work through. Hannah and Marin Rice, and that whole fiasco, it hasn't just disappeared into thin air. I think of our house in New York and the photographs his mother took, the terrible stories from his past, and I can't help but feel a fresh set of tears beckoning.

  “We are due, Ty,” I tell him, squeezing his arm a little too hard. “We're due for a happy ending.”

  “Ah, babe, listen to me.” Ty pulls me into his lap and lets the cigarette tumble to the grass beneath us. He presses our cheeks together and sighs. “You are my happy ending. Everything else happening around us? It doesn't mean shit.”

  “But I feel so … so helpless, like I can't do anything to steer my own fate.”

  Ty chuckles, but the sound is tinged with that old bitterness of a past life sorely lived.

  “That, at least, I can help you with. See, you're thinking about things the wrong way. We're worth more than just ourselves alone, Never; we're the sum of each other. It's not you trying to steer your fate, but us. Let me hold half the wheel, okay?”

  “I'm afraid,” I whisper, putting my hands over my belly. I'm still recovering from my surgery, still suffering from the loss of my baby, and now I have to grieve the mother I never really had, too. It isn't fair.

  “And that's okay, too, because, see, I love you to the moon and back. I love you farther than the stars can shine and brighter than the sun can burn. So be afraid, Never, and let me see your fears. I'll wipe them all away along with your tears.”

  “There is no way in fuck that you are real,” I say, half-laughing and half-crying. “No fucking way. You're supposed to be a shallow bad boy with a wicked past and a good body.”

  “Then I have at least two of the three covered, don't I?”

  “Go to hell,” I whisper, but what I really mean is I love you.

  17

  I move back inside to the sound of silence, Ty's boots and bracelets filling the empty living room like nothing else ever could. We're both tired from the frantic search for Darla that Beth put together after the phone call. It took a lot of strength to pull herself from her grief, to spread the capable and still functioning adults across the house, around the pond, in the forest, for our second search of the day – just in case Mom had turned around and dumped Darla back off without us knowing.

  But we found nothing. The police even stopped in and found nothing. They took pictures and descriptions and statements, and then they left, leaving our family to survive the night alone.

  Ty and I took on the burden of putting all the little ones to bed then retreated outside for a moment to pull our shit together. We're the only ones who are going to be able to do it – that much I'm sure of.

  Jade has gone into shock, and both India and Beth have disappeared into their rooms, locking the doors behind them. I can hear the wails and sobs from here, but there's nothing I can do to help. I can't bring our mother back, can't make her death any less tragic for them. At this point, all I can do is keep life running smoothly – feed everyone, change diapers, prepare myself for the morning, when I'll have to tell Lettie and Lorri about Angelica. We decided that tonight, with emotions running so hot and wild, that it was best not to say anything. Ty explained away our feelings by telling them we were just worried about Darla. It was a white lie, meant to give them rest, meant to give us time, before we have to break the news. I hate to say it, but honestly, if we just never mentioned my mother again, she'd probably fade away into a distant memory in their minds. She was around so little, it probably won't make much of a difference in their lives.

  Ty rests his chin on the top of my head and holds me from behind, breathing in my scent. He knows even before I do that I'm still upset, just barely holding together. Tears squeeze out and patter on the wood floor in front of me as I lift my face and turn in Ty's arms.

  “I think she wanted my father dead, Ty. I think my mother … I don't know, ordered Luis to do it or something. Paid him, bribed him, fucked him for it. Now I'll never know.”

  “Ignorance really can be bliss,” he murmurs, holding me tight. I'm content to stay there forever when I hear a sniffle and a choke from the direction of the couch. Ty releases me, so I can go to my sister. “I'm going to go check on Noah, Autumn, and Maple,” he tells me, sliding his fingers across my arm as he passes. We exchange one more look before he heads up the stairs, and I sit down beside Jade.

  “Are you awake?” I ask, brushing her hair back from her face. It's a red tangle right now, like a twisted mass of copper wire.

  “Leave me alone,” Jade chokes as I continue to stroke her hair. I hear her words, but I also hear the meaning deep down beneath them. Please don't go. Make things right. I'm so scared. “I don't want another mother. I want my real mother. I want her back.” Jade slaps at my hand, but that's okay. It's really okay.

  She starts to break down again, choked sobs becoming violent wails, until she's struggling to breathe through the snot and the fear and the heavy, palpable weight of loss.

  I sit with her until she calms down enough that I can get up, grab the phone, and take care of one last thing before bed.

  Fuck.

  I close my eyes and squeeze my cell in my fingers. Zella didn't call to say she was home safe with Noah, only texted. And so nobody here bothered to answer her. There was just too much going on.

  “I don't want to do this,” I whisper, but I already know that Jade is asleep, that there's nobody left to help me with this. I think maybe I should let Zella sleep, tell her tomorrow, but I'm afraid somebody else will text or call her, that she'll see it on the news first. I don't want her to find out like that.

  I bite my lip and close my eyes before dialing. Please answer. Please. Please. Please.

  “Never?” Zella sounds groggy, like she's been sleeping. It's nearly sunrise anyway, so that doesn't surprise me at all. “Are you okay?”

  I have to open my eyes and stare into the dying embers of the fire before I can find my voice.

  “Zella,” I begin and then swallow hard. I've made a lot of difficult phone calls in my life, like the one I made to Beth that day at the clinic. This is worse. This isn't the scary beginning of something new, this is the terrible end of something horrific. “Zella, Mom got into a car accident tonight.”

  Silence on her end of the line.

  “She … Zella, Darla is okay. I mean, she wasn't with Angelica at the time of the accident. We don't know where she is, but she's okay.” Shit. I'm stalling. I so don't want to say this, to be the one to break her heart like I did Jade's. “Mom though … ”

  “She's dead,” Zella says, her voice completely monotone. “Mom's dead.”

  I nod, even though I know Zella can't hear me.

  “I have to go,” she says and hangs up before I can say anything else.

  I bend down low, even though it hurts my belly, and the phone falls to the floor with a clatter.

  Damn you, Angelica. Just when things were looking up, when life was starting to be okay again, you had to go and do what you do best and ruin it all.

  When I find myself crying again, I'm glad nobody else is around to see it.

  18

  Two days later and we still haven't found Darla.

  A pall hangs over the Regali household, a dark shroud of a specter that taunts and whispers, showing us our worst fears and
offering no relief from the pain that plagues our hearts. I've got Ty, but my sisters, they have nobody. They're all hurting too much to comfort each other and so all I see is an ocean of pain and isolated longing for a future that will never be. Now there's no more pretending that Angelica will snap to and become the mom they've always wanted. It's over. It's all really over.

  “I'm so sorry about your Mom,” Lacey says as we sit in the hot tub and watch the snow drift lazily from the sky, each flake like a dancer in its own right. Well, Trini, Lacey, and Ty sit in the hot tub; I sit on the edge with one foot just barely dangling in. According to Google, prego bitches shouldn't be anywhere near hot tubs or saunas. Apparently, the cells of a developing fetus get all screwy after a hundred and five degrees or so. Don't know if that's true or not, but I already lost one of my little Mini McCabes, so I'm not taking chances.

  I didn't want to come out here at all at first, but when Ty and Lacey get something in their head, it's impossible to fight them both. Now I realize what a good idea this was. I'm not relaxing or hanging out, I'm rejuvenating. It felt irresponsible to sit and chat while Darla was missing and everything was falling apart, but I need this. Besides, it wasn't doing me any good to sit on the couch and stare at the phone all day. When the police call, I'll know. Anyway, Beth can barely stand, so someone has to take over her role; I could use a moment to recuperate some of my strength for that reason alone. Of course, Ty is taking care of the babies and the kids like only a true prince could ever do. Yes, his crown might be made of thorns, but his heart is purer than pure, broken and bent into a shape that's so much better than what we all start out with.

  “Thank you, Lacey,” I say, staring back at her blonde hair and blue eyes, her perfect Barbie face. Trini sits beside her while Ty sits beside me, the four of us lapsing into contemplative silence for a while. I feel bad for them, coming all the way out here for a Christmas that sucked worse than my first blow job. I tell Lacey this and she gives me a raised brow.

  “Sorry? Don't be sorry, Never. None of this is your fault.”

  “Yeah, but, what a way to spend a holiday, huh?” I say, and Ty reaches out of the water to squeeze my hand.

  “Holidays are about family, and I think I've learned more about that in the time I've been here than I have the rest of my life combined. I mean, I'm not saying my family doesn't love each other or anything, but you and your sisters … you and Ty,” Lacey makes an inappropriately lascivious face that makes me smile, just a little, “you're so real. You feel so much. I feel like it's hard to say how strong a family's bonds are until they're tested. Well, yours have been and still are. That's the mark of true strength, Never.”

  I look away because I'm not used to compliments like that. My family. We're really like that? I find it hard to believe. We're so broken and fractured and now, who knows what will happen to us?

  “Did you read that in a Hallmark card?” I ask and Ty chuckles softly.

  “Nope. It's just the truth, plain and simple. You'll have to deal.” Lacey pauses and she and Trini exchange a long look. I remember the night they first met, how I crawled into Lacey's car and cried myself to sleep. I really have come a long way. “We, uh, have something to tell you, but it didn't seem appropriate considering everything. I mean, I know Darla's still missing and all, but since we're leaving tomorrow … ” Lacey trails off and takes a deep breath. “Trini and I are getting married, and we wanted you to be the first ones to know.”

  “Congrats, doll,” Ty says, moving across the hot tub to give Lacey a totally inappropriate hug. At least I know she's gay and getting absolutely nothing from his bare chest brushing up against her. “That's fucking sweet. When and where are you doing the deed?”

  “We're not sure,” Trini says, brushing some dark hair behind her ear. I don't know her as well as I do Lacey, but I've always liked her and I've always appreciated how good she's been to my friend – my only female friend if you don't count my sisters. “But we were hoping you guys could come. Maybe even be a part of it?”

  “I'd love to,” I say, remembering that white dress with the red ties that Ty bought me. That we fucked in. An idea of a real wedding seems so far away right now, but I grab onto it and cling because weddings, as silly as I think they are, are a sign of hope, a sign that the future isn't bleak and empty. I think Lacey and Trini know that, that they're telling me this now, here, on purpose. Not to be callous about Darla's plight or to gloat about their relationship or anything like that, just to keep me hopeful.

  It doesn't last long.

  My mother is dead.

  I force that thought back again, fully aware that it'll resurface in a matter of minutes. Welcome to my life for the past few days. What with the funeral and will and custody crap, what with fucking Darla missing, I need this. And anyway, we'll find Darla soon, I'm sure of it. We have to find her or my family won't survive. I choke back the emotions and blink away the tears, forcing myself to stay positive, keep my voice lighthearted.

  “But I won't wear an ugly bridesmaid dress.” Lacey giggles, but I don't give in. “Seriously. Don't forget we used to be roommates. I can't banish some of the atrocities you wore from my mind.”

  “Pink cashmere is not an atrocity,” Lacey says, but even Ty has to smile at that one. “Okay, fine, think what you want, but I promise, no pink cashmere at my wedding. Deal?”

  I smile back.

  “Deal.”

  19

  Where the fuck is Darla?

  That's the million dollar question right now, one that's eating away at my sisters' already fragile souls. India, Jade, and Beth, I don't think a single one of them has eaten in days. And Zella? After my initial phone call to tell her the news, we haven't heard from her. I can only hope Noah Scott is taking good care of her. Even if she's stubborn about it, I know he will. He'll find a way. Love always does.

  “I've tried everyone in her contacts list,” Beth says, setting aside my mother's phone like it's a precious heirloom and not a scratched up hunk of junk. “All of the friends and boyfriends and pot dealers that I could possibly remember from a fucking lifetime of shit.” Beth drops her head into her hands, copper hair tangled and ratted. She won't brush it and she won't let anyone else touch it either. When she starts to cry again, I pull my knees up to my chest and close my eyes.

  Seven days.

  That's a long time to lose track of someone, especially someone who's four years old and precocious as hell.

  I open my eyes again and look at India, head down, tears streaming over her cheeks. It's hard to decide what each emotion means, how my sisters are really feeling. If Darla were here, would they still be this upset? I know Jade would, but India and Beth? I don't know. I can't talk about our mother with them, can't process what's happened, because the only thing that matters right now is finding our sister. It's like we're stuck in this terrible limbo, this purgatory of what-ifs and who-knows. Darla could be dead – worse. I try really, really hard not to think of Marin Rice in that moment.

  “Pancakes, anyone?” Ty asks, mostly looking at me. I haven't been eating as much as I should, I know that. I nod, even though I'm not hungry. I'll eat, but only for my baby and not for myself. “I can even make 'em in the shape of Mickey Mouse or some shit. Ooh, that sounds good, doesn't it?”

  Beth sniffles, but at least she actually looks up at him with a loose smile on her pretty mouth.

  “Mickey Mouse pancakes are Darla's favorite,” she says, and then she breaks down in sobs again. Ty cringes and sets his spatula down, moving over to pull my big sister against his belly. I watch as he strokes her hair with ringed fingers. Only … he's looking right at me. I look right back and something passes between us. I remember his words from a few weeks back. Love is glue, baby. Without it, sometimes the cracks begin to show.

  “Don't cry, Mother Dearest,” he says and I smile at the affectionate lilt to his voice. Despite the fact that they're only a year apart in age, Ty really does see Beth as a mother figure. “I can make pancakes in
the shape of penises, too, if that's what you'd prefer.”

  “God no,” Beth chokes out, pulling away and smoothing some hair behind her ears with her fingers. “That's the absolute last thing I could ever want or need. Make Mickey Mouse pancakes. Maybe they'll bring us some luck? Besides, Never is way too skinny.”

  I roll my eyes, but only for normalcy's sake.

  “I'm, like, ten weeks along or something,” I say, but Beth isn't listening. Over the baby monitor, somebody cries. Honestly, I can't tell if it's Autumn or Mini McCabe.

  “I'll get 'em,” India says suddenly, shoving her chair out from the table and disappearing through the entrance to the living room. She barely makes it out before fresh tears start falling. Fuck. I wish there was something more I could do, something better. Instead, all I've been able to do is sit here and wish and hope and pray like everyone else.

  “How are you feeling, honey?” Beth asks, sniffling again and shifting things around on the table. She organizes the place settings, moving forks and knives and spoons by mere fractions of an inch. If her OCD tendencies will help her feel better, I'm not going to say anything. “I mean, are your incisions healing alright?”

  “I think so,” I say and she snaps her gaze up to mine. “Yes. Sorry. Yes, they look fine. And I have a checkup on Monday, so don't look at me like that.” Beth nods and then goes quiet, like that was all the mothering and nagging she had left in her. I wet my lips for a moment and then decide to bring up things I'm sure she'd rather leave buried. “Beth.” Something about the way I say her name draws her attention to me. Tears are flowing again, but somebody has to bring this stuff up. “What are we going to do with Mom's body?”

  “Do?” Beth asks, sounding strangled. “I'll tell you what I did. I told the fucking hospital to cremate her and throw the ashes in the trash!” She stands up suddenly and shoves her chair so hard it topples and smashes into the wall. “I told them to make sure she went straight to fucking hell where she belongs!” My sister's screams turn into sobs, but when I stand up and try to go to her, she pulls away. “Don't touch me!” she wails, stumbling away and leaning into the wall like the world is so heavy on her shoulders she couldn't possibly stand. “Do you understand how bad this is? I'm twenty-four, Never. Twenty-fucking-four. I have two babies and no husband, no father, no mother. I have fucking nothing.”

 

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