Phoebe Will Destroy You

by Blake Nelson

  “It’s not going to make things easier for me,” I said. My voice cracked slightly as I said this.

  “Why do you say that? How is this going to affect you?”

  “Are you serious?” I said. “Are you seriously asking me that?”

  “Well you seemed to do all right for the three months I was in treatment. You seemed much happier, according to your father.”

  “Of course we were happier,” I said. “Because you weren’t driving us crazy.”

  My mother made an annoyed sound. “Well, now I won’t be driving you crazy. Since that’s all I’m good for. Apparently.”

  I sat there. I could feel tears coming into my eyes.

  “That’s not all you’re good for,” I had to say. “Obviously.”

  “I don’t want to argue about it,” said my mother. “Both your father and I think this is the best solution. So that’s what we’re doing. I’ll be moving my things next week. You can come see the apartment when you get home. When are you coming home?”

  “At the end of the summer.”

  “Okay then, at the end of the summer. And you will always be welcome. This isn’t a legal situation, so there won’t be a specific custody arrangement. You’re father and I are on the same page about this.”

  “So where am I going to be?”

  “With your father, of course.”

  “So you just want to get rid of us. . . .”

  “I never said that.”

  “And where will Richard be?”

  “Richard? Richard has nothing to do with this.”

  “I bet he does have something to do with it. I bet he has a lot to do with it.”

  “You have no right to accuse me of anything regarding Richard. That part of my life is none of your business.”

  “No. You’re wrong. It’s totally my business. Dr. Snow even said so.”

  “Dr. Snow . . . ,” said my mother dismissively. “What does he know about my relationships with my colleagues?”

  “Richard’s not your colleague. He’s your boyfriend! And you’re probably moving in with him. Because that’s what you do. That’s what you always do. When you get bored with people, you toss them aside. And if anyone says anything, you act superior and above it all, until you win and get what you want!”

  My mother responded with icy calm: “I don’t understand why you need to express this anger now, when I’m trying to have an adult conversation with you. Your father was just telling me how much improvement you’ve made with your attitude. And how grown-up you’ve become. And mature. And now you’re acting like a child again, accusing me of terrible, irrational things. I don’t even know how to respond to this.”

  Sobs began to leak out of me. “You always win, Mom. You always get exactly what you want. You know what Dr. Snow says? He says the sickest people always win. And that’s you. You’re the sickest person because you don’t care what you do to people. All you care about is yourself.”

  “I’m very sorry you’re so upset, Nicholas,” said my mother. “But I don’t think I can continue this conversation if you’re going to lie about my motives and say the most hurtful things you can think of. You don’t even sound like yourself. You sound like a crazy person.”

  “Okay, then,” I said. “Hang up on me. Hang up on your only child and then go move in with your creepy boyfriend. And maybe have a couple drinks to celebrate!”

  “You would like that, wouldn’t you?” she said. Now she had emotion in her voice. Now she sounded on the brink of tears. “After all I’ve done for you! You would like to see me fail. After all the struggles I’ve been through, and how hard I’ve tried with you and your father. And now you’re attacking me, saying anything you can to hurt me—”

  I hung up. I had to hang up, or I was going to slam my phone into the concrete floor. I needed my phone. I had done that in the past with my mother, destroyed things after our little talks. I couldn’t destroy my phone. I needed my phone. I held it. I gripped it. Don’t hurt your phone, I told myself. Don’t hurt your phone.

  27

  I walked out of the Happy Bubble. I didn’t know where I was going. I crossed the street and walked in the direction of the beach. My brain was overloaded, and my chest hurt. Had I lost my mother forever by being so hard on her? Or had I already lost her anyway to Richard? Or had I never actually had a mother during any of this? And what was my father going to say when he heard about my outburst? Because my mother would tell him and probably accuse him of instigating it.

  My father would be pissed anyway. He believed in never losing your temper with Mom. He never did what I had just done. Except for the night he punched Richard in the face, in the front yard, but that was different—that was Richard, not her.

  I walked. I continued along Broadway toward the ocean. There were people on the sidewalks and walking along the street. Tourists. Couples. Families with kids. My mother often joked about big families at her dinner parties: how one kid was enough. She wouldn’t be fooled twice. Kids! From the moment they appeared, you worked for them!

  I wanted to get drunk, I realized. I went into the little store that Justin got his beer from. But I didn’t know them, and they didn’t know me. They weren’t going to sell me anything. I left.

  I was two blocks from the beach when I took a right on the little side street that cut between the hotels. At the end of this street was the tiny Seaside Library.

  I’d found the library before, but it hadn’t been open. Today it was. I tried to see through the window. Was Jace there? I cautiously opened the door. There she was, standing along one wall, putting some books away.

  She turned and saw me. She smiled at first, but then her expression changed when she saw my face.

  “Hey,” she said.

  “Hi,” I mumbled.

  “What’s up?”

  It was hard to speak. I wasn’t sure why I’d come. “I got off work early,” I managed to say.

  She watched me carefully. “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “Yeah,” I said, avoiding her gaze. “I just got a weird phone call.”

  “From who?”

  “From my mom,” I said. “She’s moving out of our house.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I knew she would. Better now, while I’m not there.”

  Jace swallowed. I could see her neck swallow because she was taller than me.

  “If you can wait a few minutes, I’m just closing up. We could go somewhere.”

  “Yeah,” I said, still looking around in an evasive way. “That would be good. Thanks.”

  * * *

  We walked down to the Promenade. It felt good to be moving and to be outside. But in another way, it made it worse. Being in the open air, in public, I felt like I might totally disintegrate if I thought the wrong thought or said the wrong words.

  We ended up on the north end of the Promenade and sat on a bench. Now I was thinking about my dad. He wasn’t going to like that I’d lost my temper. He’d want me to talk to Dr. Snow. And my mom, she would use this against me. And then she’d force me to come to her house. And Richard. What was I going to do with him? I was going to fuck up his car, was my first thought. Baseball bat to the side mirrors. Baseball bat to the rear taillights. Baseball bat to the side of his balding head. But no, I wasn’t going to do that. I wasn’t going to do anything. I was going to get a grip on myself, that’s what I was going to do.

  Jace must have sensed something, because she reached over and put her hand on my hand. But that felt weird to both of us so she took it off.

  “I don’t know what’s happening to me,” I said in a low voice. I was staring at the ground. I couldn’t seem to control my thoughts or what came out of my mouth.

  “You’re going through some things,” said Jace. “This is hard. This is your mom.”

  “I feel like this is changing me,” I said. “And not in a good way. I don’t want to be like this. I don’t want to become this person. . . .” And then I
started crying. Like I burst into tears. Right there in front of Jace. God, it was terrible. It was the most embarrassing thing I’d done in my life.

  I pulled myself together. I hardened my face. “Jesus, look at me,” I said, wiping my tears away. “I’m totally losing it. Sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” she said. She put her hand on my shoulder. “It’s totally okay.”

  28

  My dad called later. It was after dinner. I was down in the basement, lying on my bed. I’d opened the back door so I could hear the trees outside, and the hoot owls, and the wind.

  “Hey, kiddo,” he said.

  “Hey, Dad,” I said.

  “How’re you doing?”

  “I’m doing all right.”

  There was a pause. “So you talked to your mom.”

  “Yeah,” I said, putting my hand over my eyes.

  “She said you guys had a little dustup.”

  “Yeah, we did.”

  “She told you she’s moving out.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Looks like it’ll just be me here, until you get back.”

  I hadn’t thought of that. What it would be like for my dad, sitting in that house alone. He sure got screwed in all of this. He got it worse than anybody.

  “Dad?” I said.

  “Yeah?”

  “Did you ever love Mom?”

  “Of course I did. I still do.”

  “Like right now you do?”

  “Yes. Don’t you?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Yes you do. She’s your mother. The problem is, she has a disease. She has the disease of alcoholism. She didn’t choose to have it. She didn’t want her life to be like this.”

  “Are you sure about that? Cuz it seems to me—”

  “Yes. I am sure of it. I’m totally sure of it. You think she wanted this to happen? You think she wants to hurt her own family? Trust me. She doesn’t. This was never part of the plan.”

  “I guess it wouldn’t be.”

  “That’s how it goes sometimes. You can’t control things. You get married. You don’t know what’s going to happen. In her case, she wanted a family. She wanted to have that kind of love in her life. But it’s the nature of addiction. She can’t always control certain things. And she self-destructs. And sometimes she hurts the people around her as a result.”

  I didn’t say anything. I thought, My poor dad.

  “Are you going to get a divorce?” I said.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Do you want to?

  “That’s something I have to work out.”

  “What about Richard?”

  “What about him?”

  “Don’t you want to kill him?”

  There was a brief silence. “No,” said my dad in a low voice. “I don’t want to kill anyone.”

  Neither of us talked for a while. I didn’t know what to say. Neither did he.

  “How’s the car wash?” he finally asked me.

  “It’s good.”

  “Are you’re having a good summer?”

  “Yeah, I’d say so. It’s been interesting. It’s been a learning experience.”

  “Yeah?” he said. “What have you learned?”

  I thought for a moment. “Actually, you don’t want to know.”

  “That bad, huh?” said my dad. “Well try to make it back in one piece. I need some company.”

  “Okay, Dad. I’ll try.”

  * * *

  I went back upstairs and watched TV with Emily, Uncle Rob, and Aunt Judy. I’d already told Aunt Judy about my mom moving out. I assumed she’d told everyone else.

  Nobody talked when I sat down. It occurred to me that the Reillys probably knew how my mother made fun of them. They probably hated her. But they were too polite to say anything. It was amazing sometimes, the things people managed not to say. While someone like my mom, she said whatever she felt like.

  Eventually Uncle Rob and Aunt Judy went upstairs. Emily and I sat on the couch and watched The Real Housewives of Orange County. I figured she’d probably talked to Jace. I kind of didn’t care who knew what by this time. I felt numb, which was good in a way. I thought about my dad, though. That was the saddest part. I had one more year and I was free of this mess. He’d been stuck with my mom for years. And he still was.

  “Jace said you came to the library,” said Emily during a commercial.

  I glanced once across the couch at her. “Yeah.”

  Emily stared at the TV. “She still likes you, you know.”

  “Who does?” I said.

  “Jace.”

  That seemed like a weird thing to bring up at that moment.

  “I mean, I know you have a lot going on,” said Emily. “But she does.”

  “Well I like her, too.”

  “Do you?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “It doesn’t seem like it.”

  “Well what do you want me to do exactly?” I said back.

  “I don’t know,” said Emily. “Act like it? Tell her? Talk to her?”

  “It’s not like my life is going super smoothly at the moment,” I said, staring hard at the TV.

  Emily said nothing. She could really be annoying with her rules about what boys were supposed to do. Especially since she was the only one who knew what they were.

  “She knows I like her,” I said.

  “Girls never know for sure,” said Emily. “Unless you tell them.”

  That was it. That made me mad “Well what if we’re just friends? Okay? How about that?”

  “Is that how you feel?”

  “Yes. That’s how I feel.”

  “Then tell her.”

  “I don’t have to tell her. She knows. She said it herself.”

  Emily stared at the TV.

  “Everything is fine between Jace and me. And in the meantime, how about everybody just chills out and gives me a few seconds to figure my own stuff out? How about that?”

  “Don’t get mad at me. I’m trying to help you.”

  I sunk back into the couch. It was true. I had no right to get mad at Emily. Or maybe I did have a right. I didn’t know.

  I didn’t know anything by that point.

  PART THREE

  AUGUST

  29

  During the first week of August there were three ninety-five degree days in a row, which had never happened before in Seaside. Everyone was talking about it. The thing I noticed was that everything actually dried out. Like stuff that had probably never been dry, in this soggy, drizzly, town. And then a hot, dusty wind began to blow down off the mountains, and you felt like the whole town might catch fire, which turned out to be a real danger, according to the constant radio and TV announcements.

  The third day of the heat wave was the busiest at the car wash. The tunnel ran nonstop. Justin and I barely got a break from the vacuuming. Mike was so busy, he couldn’t get in a smoke break and I had to take over for him while he sucked down a couple cigarettes in the back.

  The heat made people cranky too. Some guy from Las Vegas started yelling at me for spilling a Coke on his new car’s carpet. Never mind that the Coke can was rolling around on the floor when he drove in. Justin started arguing with him while I stood by. Mike finally came over and growled at him to shut up. Then Kyle hurried over and apologized and comped the guy a free car wash and carpet shampoo, which, fortunately, he didn’t have time to get.

  And then later, just before closing, a little kid somehow wandered into the tunnel. Everyone freaked out, and Justin dove for the kill switch, which shut the whole thing down, possibly saving the kid’s life. The mother nearly had a heart attack, and while everyone was trying to calm her down, her little dog escaped from their car and almost got hit by a log truck on the highway.

  Meanwhile, I was still thinking about my mother and our phone call. I hadn’t heard anything back from her. Sooner or later I would. You didn’t just hang up on my mother and get away with it. Somehow, some way, she would g
et back at you.

  * * *

  Justin and I walked into town after work. I’d managed to not mention my family stuff to him, but once we were away from the Happy Bubble, I couldn’t seem to help myself.

  “My mom and dad are splitting up,” I said.

  “No shit?” he said. “When did that happen.”

  “Couple days ago.”

  “Ah, man,” he said. “That’s too bad. Sorry to hear that.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “I kinda expected it. I just didn’t know when exactly it would happen.”

  We made our way along the crowded sidewalk. The record heat had brought record amounts of tourists.

  “You wanna get a bottle?” asked Justin.

  “Nah, I’m good.”

  “You sure?” he said. “It cures what ails ya.”

  “Yeah?”

  “You know it does.”

  I kinda did want to chill out. “Yeah, okay,” I said.

  Justin cut cross the street and angled toward the little store where they sold him liquor. I waited outside, as usual.

  When he came back out, I said, “Would you mind if we didn’t sit under the stairs?”

  “What’s wrong with under the stairs?”

  I shrugged. “It just kinda feels like . . .”

  “Like what?” he asked. He genuinely didn’t know.

  “It feels like something a bum would do.”

  Justin stopped. He looked at me. It was kind of a weird moment. But then he started to nod. “Okay,” he said. “Okay.”

  “I mean, no offense—”

  “No, no, I feel you,” said Justin. “I can see what you’re saying.” He thought about it more. He stopped walking. “You know what?”

  “What?” I said.

  “I’ll get us some Coke cups. And we’ll put the whiskey in there. And make whiskey and Cokes. How’s that?”

  “That sounds good.”

  “And that way we can sit wherever we want. We can sit on the Promenade. And we won’t look like bums.”

  * * *

  An hour later we were sprawled on one of the benches in front of the Del Mar Hotel. The whiskey and Cokes we were drinking, hidden inside ordinary Coke cups, tasted sweet and delicious.

  “So what’s going on with your parents?” Justin asked me.