Author's Note: Wow this chapter is strange. . .just to try and avoid any confusion. . .the italics are flashbacks. Anyway, enjoy.
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Chapter 27: Déjà vu
May 24th
9:17 PM
Buffalo
"Oh, quit moping around, Rico. You're forty four years old and it's not like it was a surprise!"
"Easy enough for you to say! You're not the one who's dying!"
"Oh, and you think this is going to be easy for me? To watch my husband die?"
"Damn it, Elisa, you never could deal with anyone else's problems! If it's anything other than you and your sad little existence then it's too much for you to handle!"
Mimi sat up in bed, suddenly wide awake. The light was still on and she was lying on the bed fully dressed, with pieces of paper scattered around her. She looked at the clock, disoriented, wondering when she'd fallen asleep. At first she'd thought the voices were in her dream, but now she recognized them as the familiar sound of her parents fighting. She'd heard them often enough as a child.
She swung her legs over the side of the bed and walked over to the other side of the room. Mimi switched off the light and pressed her ear to the door. The voices had grown softer for a while, but now the volume was building again.
"I told you we should've planned for this. Where the hell do you think the money is going to come from?"
"I don't know! I-I thought I was safe."
"Why would you think that?! It's been in your family for generations!"
"You know what? I can't deal with this right now! I don't feel well enough to argue with you and you're apparently incapable of discussing this rationally!"
Mimi heard the sound of her father's heavy footsteps on the wood floor and then the muffled bang of a door slamming. She stood for a few seconds, leaning against the door of her bedroom, her mind racing. Finally, she opened the door and looked out into the soft light of the living room. Her mother was sitting on the couch, her head in her hands. Mimi couldn't tell if she was crying.
"What happened?" Mimi asked softly, going over to her.
"We. . .got your father's test results from the hospital today."
Elisa looked up at her daughter, her eyes full of tears. Mimi felt her knees go weak with dread.
"And. . ."
"Huntington's disease."
Mimi sat down weakly, memories of her grandfather's last few years in her mind. How he'd struggled just to get out of bed in the morning as the disease ravaged his brain. How her parents had tried to hide it from her because they'd thought she was too young. Now she realized she'd be forced to face the same thing with her father.
"I can't," Mimi heard herself say.
"What?"
"I can't do this!" Mimi was on her feet before she even realized she'd spoken, her body driven by the force of her emotion. "I can't take anymore. It's too much!" She started to cry.
Elisa tried to hug her, but Mimi brushed her off roughly.
"I know," Elisa said sadly, "But you should at least try to talk to him about it. It would mean so much to him . . .After all, you are his only child now."
"His only child," Mimi repeated, her voice smoldering with fury. "Is that why you care all of a sudden?"
"Mimi, you know that's not what I meant—"
"You never would've treated me like this before! I've been invisible for years. But now he's dying so you have to pretend to care so you can continue telling yourself you're a good mother!"
"Mimi, please—"
"You'll never let me forget!" she shouted, surprised at the force of her own anger. "I'm your only fucking child now and you never cared before but now you need me, so you have to pretend you care! I'm nothing to you. I'm an illusion. And I'll never be anything else!"
Mimi turned and ran into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her and locking it. The outburst had left her shaking and filled with a sadness so intense she felt hollow inside. She turned the sink on cold and splashed water on her face, wincing. She was shocked at her reflection. She hadn't realized she looked that bad. Then something else caught her eye.
Perched on the ledge between the counter top and the mirror was a prescription pill bottle.
Mimi picked it up, examining the label:
Marquez, Elisa. Sleeping pills.
She turned the bottle over and over in her hand, tempted. She knew she wouldn't sleep on her own.
Mimi snapped the lid off the bottle and took one of the tiny white pills, promising herself it would only be once.
The pill worked quickly and she drifted off to sleep almost immediately.
Images swam before Mimi's eyes, fragments of memories lost in the sea of time.
"A C. Another C. After everything I told you. What did I say would happen if you didn't bring these grades up, young lady?"
Thirteen year old Mimi cowered before her mother's scrutinizing gaze and the incriminating report card in her hand.
"You said I wouldn't be allowed to go to the Homecoming dance," she answered reluctantly.
"Right."
"But it's my first year!"
"I don't care."
"And the class is impossible! It's not my fault Dad made them put me in honors! He knew I couldn't do it!"
"I don't want to hear it. You're not going to that dance. Or anywhere else for tat matter until these grades come up."
"I hate you," Mimi spat, and stalked off to her room.
"And you too," she shot at the smiling form of Aaron, her perfect younger brother. If it weren't for him, her parents would be happy with average grades.
The memory shifted, flashing forward several years.
Mimi found herself facing her father's anger this time.
"Look, you don't have a choice here," he said sternly, "Your mother can't drive in her condition and Aaron needs to get to the game."
Mimi glared at him.
"Why can't you take him? You're a better driver than me anyway, as you're always reminding me."
"I have to stay here with your mother incase she needs anything. And I have work to do."
"Oh, for God's sake! She just has a cold! Get over it already."
"She has Pneumonia. And I won't be spoken to like that. You take Aaron to that game now or you don't drive that car for a month."
Mimi snatched the car keys angrily out of his hand, grabbed her purse and headed for the door.
"Come on All Star, get in the car, you're wasting my time!" she called in the direction of Aaron's room.
He came sauntering out about five minutes later, dressed in his baseball uniform.
Mimi stood with her arms crossed, tapping her foot and glaring at him impatiently.
"Come on, I'm missing a date for you."
Traffic was light, but it was still a long way to the game. And it was raining. Hard. Mimi pressed her foot down a little harder on the gas pedal, pushing the speed limit.
"Slow down," Aaron scolded her from the passenger seat.
Mimi glared at him.
"Mr. Perfect. We're not gonna spontaneously combust. Look around, there's nobody out here anyway."
"Why can't you ever just follow the rules?"
"Because the rules suck, dumbass. Besides, nobody follows them all. Just nerds like you."
"I'm not a nerd."
Mimi snorted.
"Whatever."
"Look, I mean it! You're so irresponsible. And then you're surprised when you get in trouble."
"Will you just shut up?"
"Not until you listen to me!"
"You know what? Fuck you."
"Bitch." Aaron muttered.
"I'm not taking any more of this!" Mimi shouted, slapping him hard across the cheek.
The next thing she knew, everything was spinning out of control, accompanied by the eerie sound of Aaron screaming.
Blackness, then more memories, fragments this time.
Aaron's funeral. The crying, the fighting. The blame. The night she'd run away after her father had called her the biggest disappointment of his life. She'd left and hitchhiked her way to the city with nothing more than a backpack.
The first sights of the city. Rain. Always the rain. Grayness, the overwhelming assortment of smells. Car fumes and too much cologne, human sweat and the sickly sweet stench of garbage decaying in the heat of the afternoon sun.
The park. And a strange man, smiling at her.
He waved, and Mimi approached him cautiously, not knowing what else to do.
"You look depressed, baby," the Man purred in a too-sweet voice. "I think I have just the thing to make you forget all your troubles."
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'Tis strange, I know. Review or I shall keep Mimi trapped in the past. . .FOREVER!