Create a Life to Love

by Erin Zak

  “What happened?” Steven looked at me from in front of the refrigerator before he pulled out a can of Yuengling beer and snapped it open. “Are you okay?”

  I nodded. I wasn’t okay, but I didn’t want to talk about it in front of Beth. I honestly didn’t know if I would talk about it at all. It wasn’t worth it, was it?

  “Where were you yesterday? You gave your mom quite the scare,” Steven said after he drank from his beer.

  Beth looked at me and then at him. “I met my birth mom.”

  Steven looked absolutely horrified. “What?”

  “Yeah, I found her. I mean, it was easy.”

  “Elizabeth, why would you go and do something like that?” His voice was booming. Shit. The sound made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I’d heard that voice before.

  “Dad, I needed to do this.” Beth stood her ground, which made me proud, but also worried. “You wouldn’t understand because you aren’t adopted. I needed to meet her.”

  “That isn’t for you to decide. Not until you’re old enough. How the hell did you find her?”

  Beth blinked, once, twice, three times before she finally said with her shoulders pulled back and her head held high, “I hired a private investigator.” Her answer was so firm and matter-of-fact.

  “What the fuck did you say?”

  “You heard me, Dad.” Beth folded her arms across her chest and took a step back. I wanted to rush over and stand in front of her like a mama bear would protect her cubs, but fear had frozen me in place.

  “Beth, Jesus Christ.” He pointed his free index finger at me. “This is your fault.”

  I couldn’t hold back my shocked laughter. “I’m sorry, what?”

  “This. This whole thing is your fault.” He slammed his beer on the granite countertop, and it splashed all over his hand. He shook it off, and the sound he let out was enough to cause me to back down. “If you hadn’t told her she was adopted, this never would have happened. What if something bad had happened to her?”

  “Like that would have fazed you!” Beth shouted and then turned from him and started toward me. “You didn’t even call Mom yesterday, did you?”

  “I was busy, Beth. Making money. For this family.”

  “Bullshit!”

  She was not afraid of him at all. I made a move, sidestepping her so I was in front. I wrapped my hand around her wrist and squeezed. “Beth,” I whispered as I looked over my shoulder at her. “Honey. It’s not the time. Go upstairs.”

  “Mom, no,” she said, but I cut her off with a look, and she did as I asked.

  When she was out of earshot, which I knew she really wasn’t—she was standing at the top of the stairs listening, I was sure of it—I looked at Steven. “You are out of your fucking mind.”

  He took a couple steps toward me, dragging his beer on the countertop. “She did not need to meet her biological mother,” he said, his voice low and gravelly. His ears were so red, and his face had broken out in a sweat. “Ever.”

  “That really isn’t for you to decide.” I clenched my hands into fists. “She was nice.”

  “How would you know she was nice?”

  “Because she drove Beth home. So she didn’t have to find a way back.”

  “A complete fucking stranger drove our kid home, and all you can say is, ‘she was nice’?”

  “Really, Steven? She is her mother. She gave birth to her. She is the reason we have Beth. So, don’t you stand there and act like you are so perfect. Because you aren’t. And we both know it.” I didn’t know what had gotten into me, but whatever it was coursed through my veins like a highspeed freight train. “I’m sure the only person that thinks you’re perfect anymore is that goddamn whore nurse you’ve been fucking.”

  It happened so fast. He let go of his beer, and he backhanded me right across the face. I couldn’t feel anything, and yet I could feel everything all at once. I tasted blood as I raised my hand to where he struck me. I slowly turned my head and looked at him. There was no remorse in his eyes. No sign of hope. Nothing.

  “Don’t you ever speak to me like that again,” he said between breaths.

  “You son of a bitch,” I said in a whisper. “Get out of my house.” I don’t know what had gotten into me, but for the first time ever, there was something inside of me that didn’t want to roll over and give up.

  “This is my house.”

  “Get out of my house before I call the cops, Steven.” He stood there. “Get out!” I screamed. “Get out!”

  He turned on the heels of the Gucci shoes I’d bought for him for Father’s Day and left the kitchen through the garage. I heard the door open, the engine of his Porsche roar to life, and then the tires squeal as he sped away.

  When I knew he was definitely gone, I collapsed onto the cold tile floor of the kitchen.

  Chapter Four

  JACKIE

  The drive home was uneventful. I was in no mood to deal with traffic jams or horrible drivers, so it thrilled me that I made it back to St. Pete in reasonable time. I tried to keep my mind occupied while I drove, so I didn’t think about Susan’s eyes as I climbed into the car or Beth’s sweet smile as I pulled away. I shook my head as I stepped off the elevator to my second-floor condo. What had happened to me in the last couple of days?

  After I let myself in and dropped my bag on the floor. I walked to my couch and dove onto it, face first, so I could groan into a turquoise throw pillow. How was I supposed to go back to the life I was leading before Beth knocked on my door? Did she know when she first climbed into a stranger’s car on its way to St. Pete that she would change my life forever?

  She had to know, right? Her life had to be changed now, too. How could a person go from not knowing to knowing and not be completely different? It was impossible. Everything people did changed them somehow. It was silly of me to think my life could go back to normal. There was no way I could pick up my laptop and start typing madly away at my latest manuscript after all of this. Too much was different. Including my heart.

  I flipped onto my back and sighed. “Forty thousand words down the drain,” I said to the emptiness in my apartment. The afternoon sun was streaming in the sliding glass door. I made myself get up from my sprawled-out position and walk over to the door. When I slid it open, the warm gulf breeze met me. I stepped out and breathed the air in. There was something about the way the air smelled on the gulf. It was salty yet sweet, and if sunshine had a smell, it would smell like that.

  I leaned against the railing and watched as the sun sank lower and lower in the sky. This condo was everything to me. I picked it out during an emotional break-up and ever since, it was the only space that felt like home. It was a great size. Three bedrooms, three bathrooms, and an awesome kitchen with a view that I literally could not buy right now if I wanted to. I got in right before the real estate market started to climb. Lucky me. Otherwise, I would have had to pay four hundred thousand dollars instead of the two hundred and fifty thousand I paid ten years ago.

  The view was why I bought it. It wasn’t updated at all, but I figured it’d be perfect for writing. Turns out, I was one hundred percent right. The morning light came in the back bedroom where my desk was, and the afternoon sun came in the sliding glass door. And the sunsets. My God, the sunsets. They were amazing. Especially in October. I wasn’t really sure why, but I had always heard it was because the humidity finally subsided, and the air was dryer. Whatever the cause, I loved my condo even more during the fall.

  I looked out over the water and could see a pod of dolphins right off the beach. It was so calming to watch the water, the way the dolphins cut through it so effortlessly. I loved this time of day.

  Except today, I couldn’t get my mind to sit still. I wanted to relax, breathe, let the events of the past hours fade away. But it wasn’t happening. If I wasn’t thinking about the weather, my condo, or the dolphins, my mind found its way back to Susan.

  It had been a long time since I’d been taken by anyone. I
prided myself on that fact, actually, because as a writer, I felt it was difficult to really guard my heart. So far, I’d been successful, which was great. At least that was what I kept telling myself.

  Don’t get hurt. Don’t obsess. Don’t give myself something or someone to write about. I should have been getting my ideas and my material from my imagination; not thinking about full, pink lips and curvaceous hips and chocolate dark hair that had a lovely natural curl that I wanted so badly to run my fingers through.

  Dammit…my usual protect-heart-and-brain-at-all-costs façade had faded significantly since Beth knocked on my door.

  I heard my cell phone beep from my back pocket. I pulled it out and smiled when I saw Tabitha Harling on the screen. I opened my texts and hers said, You home? I’m coming over.

  Yes, I’m home. ETA?

  2.2 seconds.

  And then there was a knock at my door before it opened, and Tabitha was standing there. “Yo, yo, yo, Jacks, what is going on?” she shouted.

  “I’m on the balcony, you fool.”

  She burst through the door and grabbed me from behind, hugging me like a maniac. “I haven’t seen you in forever. What the fuck?”

  I started to laugh as I squirmed away from her. “I’ve been writing. You know I can’t be bothered when I’m writing.”

  “That is so lame.” She ran her fingers through her short blond hair. It was so wild, yet she never did anything with it. It was always all over the place. “So, what’s up? How’s the next bestseller going?”

  “It’s good,” I answered with a smile. She was going to know something was up if I didn’t start getting my act together. I sat on one of the chairs on the balcony and propped my feet up on the ottoman.

  Tabitha followed suit and sat opposite me. “You’re never going to believe what the group wants to do.”

  “Oh, Jesus, I can’t even imagine.”

  “Strip club. Next Friday. Are you in?”

  “Fuck no!” I laughed. “There is no way I’m going into a strip club.”

  “Dude, we’re going to Tampa. Let’s go. It’ll be so fun.”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “Ugh. You’re such a drag these days.” She was still wearing her football attire, and she had grass stains all over her shins.

  “Did you have a game?”

  “Practice.” She flexed her bicep. “What do you think? I’ve lost some weight and gained muscle.”

  Honestly, I couldn’t tell that she lost any weight. She always bulked up for football season. “Sure. Looks great.”

  “What the fuck?” Tabitha stood as she pouted and went inside. I heard her open the fridge, and then she promptly returned with a six pack of Cigar City Brewing Invasion Ale. She thrust a can at me and opened one for herself. “Drink with me, at least?”

  “Are you okay? You don’t normally drink during the week,” I said as I popped the seal on my can and took a big swig. It tasted incredible.

  “Janice is being a dick. She wants to see other people, which whatever, I knew it was going to happen, but then she’s all, ‘I still want to have sex!’ And what the fuck am I supposed to think?”

  “Janice is young. She’s going to be a little crazy for a while until she settles down.”

  “Fuck that.”

  “Who does she want to see now?”

  “Dawn.”

  “Dawn?” I asked with a laugh. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  “Would I kid you?” Tabitha looked at me, an eyebrow arched.

  I nodded. No, she would not kid me. She had been in love with Janice since the young thing started hanging out with us. It was a strange phenomenon how groups of lesbians sort of acquired newbies. We always had to have a certain number at all times, and when one fell away, another got picked up. It never failed.

  “So, what’s going on with you?”

  I kept my eyes on my beer. Tabitha knew that I hated talking about myself. I usually never engaged and when I did, it was bad. I was an introvert, and I was slightly selfish with who I let know me. But Tabitha had been my person for as long as I could remember. So, without even really thinking about the repercussions, I said, “I met the kid I gave up for adoption.” Luckily, Tabitha had been in my life when it all happened, so I could spring the information on her, and it wouldn’t need an hour-long explanation first.

  She leaned forward, still clutching her beer, and shook her head. “Are you kidding me?”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Would I kid you?”

  “Touché, my friend.” She looked down at her flipflops and then back up at me. “What the hell happened? I thought it was a closed adoption?”

  “The kid hired a private investigator.”

  “Wow.”

  “Yeah.”

  “So, details, please?”

  I leaned forward and propped my elbows on my knees. I tasted something other than beer on my tongue, and it was slightly nauseating. “Her name is Beth, and she hitchhiked here.” Tabitha’s eyes went wide as I told her. She listened intently when I laid out the course of events and how it all unfolded. I told her how I felt bad letting her get back in the car with strangers, so I drove her home to Savannah. “So, I dropped her off, and that was pretty much it.”

  “Wait. That’s it? Did you meet her parents? Are they good people? Are they assholes like you always feared?” Tabitha tried to get me to look at her by moving so she was in my line of sight. “Jacks, tell me. Come on.”

  I finally looked at her. “She was actually really perfect,” I said, and my voice snagged in my throat from the emotion. My mind flashed back to Beth’s brown hair and green eyes. “She was wearing Vans and a hoodie and ripped jeans, and she was beautiful. And I was a complete fucking dickhead to her. And her mom…” My voice trailed off as I brought my fingers to my lips and pinched the top one. I wasn’t going to let myself cry, even though the tears were on the verge of making an appearance. “Yeah, they’re perfect.”

  Tabitha was silent for what felt like forever until she finally said, “So, her mom?”

  “Yeah?” My eyes found Tabitha’s. “What about her?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “Stop.”

  “Stop what?”

  “Tab, don’t.”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “Are you?” Tabitha tilted her head and then stared at me. “What about her mom then?”

  “Her name is Susan. And she’s a good mom.” I shrugged. “She’s a really good mom. That’s all.”

  She squinted her eyes at me. “Okay.”

  “I swear.”

  “Okay, I believe you.”

  She didn’t believe me. I could tell. “I hope so,” I said softly. “I’ll never see her again anyway.”

  “Why would it matter if you saw her again or not?” Tabitha asked with a tone that meant I fucking told you so.

  “Tabitha, please stop. I have had the craziest day and a half that I have ever experienced.”

  Her face softened, and she reached out and put her hand on my knee. “I’m sorry, Jacks. I really am. I know you never thought you’d have to go through this.”

  “It’s okay, though. At least she’s good.”

  “Yeah, she’s good. And she’s in a good spot, and you’re good, too, so we’re all good, right?”

  I smiled at Tabitha. “Yes, we’re all good. Even you. Who is clearly trying to butter me up.”

  “Let’s go out. Let’s go get fucked up.”

  There was a part of me that wanted to tell her to fuck off because I was too tired and too emotional. But there was a larger part of me that was absolutely game. “Okay. Let me go get cleaned up.”

  “Yes!” Tabitha shouted as she pumped her fists in the air. She spilled beer all over herself and started laughing. “Perfect! I look so classy now!”

  I couldn’t help but laugh at her as I rushed inside and into the bathroom to clean up. Maybe a fucking one-night stand would clear this Susan bullshit right up. Fuck ‘e
m and forget ‘em. Of course, I had a really bad feeling I was never going to forget Susan, regardless of how hard I tried.

  * * *

  BETH

  I knocked on Mom’s door around nine, hoping she was still awake. I heard her muffled, “Come in,” so I pushed open the door. The room was dark except for the light coming from her cell phone which she quickly put down. She had gone to bed so fast after my dad left that I barely got a chance to even make sure she was okay. I tiptoed into the room, Myrtle hot on my trail. She jumped up on the bed, promptly snuggled up to Mom, and laid her head down.

  “Are you okay?” I whispered. I could barely see her in the dim lighting from the nightlight in the hallway that was across from her bedroom door.

  “Yes,” she answered. “Can’t sleep.” Her voice sounded strained and shaky.

  I crawled onto the bed, and she pulled down the covers so I could lay next to her. I heard her breathing and knew she was waiting for me to speak. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything. For finding my…for finding Jackie. For running away to do it. For stealing your credit card.”

  “You stole my credit card?”

  “Yes,” I said sheepishly. “I’m so sorry.”

  “What the hell did you buy with it?”

  “It’s how I got the private investigator.”

  “Jesus, Beth,” she whispered. “You sure were determined, weren’t you?”

  I nodded even though she probably couldn’t see me.

  “Why’d you need to know so bad?”

  I shrugged. “Because? I don’t know. I had this burning need to find out. Like, why did she want to give me up? Why wasn’t I enough to keep? I wanted to see if she had more kids, or if I was the unlucky one.” I heard the way her breath caught after I said that, and it was enough to make me want to throw up. “Wait, no, Mom, I didn’t mean it like that. I love my life. I am so happy. I’m like, the most well-adjusted kid I know.”

  She put her hand on mine. “I understand what you mean. I get wanting to know. I wish you would have come to me.”