Last time:
"What will happen if I don't go back?"
"We'll go on missing you…"
"When do you think he'll come back?" I ask, shifting uncomfortably in my seat.
"Probably a couple of days," he answers, knowing exactly who I mean without being told.
I grip the edge of my seat and push out a painful breath.
"How do you figure?" Stay calm, Bulma. Stay calm!
"The second you cross the city border the press is going to swarm you. There's no way he won't know you're back. He watches the news religiously now."
Oh Kami! What if I've made, yet another, huge mistake? What if I really can't go back? What if—
"Does he hate me?"
"He doesn't talk about you," Yamcha says quietly, keeping his eyes on the road.
"He didn't say anything when I left?"
He sighs and glances over at me.
"Nothing."
Flashback:
"I always knew you looked familiar," he said. And then nothing more.
I smiled inwardly and nodded. I had expected much less.
"You have to understand—"
"I understand completely," he cut me off. His pupils were on fire. "You never intended to go back."
I sighed. If he had been angry with me I don't know what I would have done.
"Yes," I finally said. "I never thought I'd be found."
"But they all love you so much, Yumi—er—Bulma." He blushed madly, as if he just walked in on my in the shower. "I know if it was me I would never stop looking until I found you."
"I wish I had told you all the truth from the beginning. But…Izzy," I whispered, taking his hand. "I was so completely confused and scared and angry and hurt. I mean, look what I did!" He grabbed the sides of my face and kissed my forehead. "I'll keep in touch," I promised, and I intended to keep that promise. After meeting him and the others I can't picture my life without them. Sadly, this thought pattern reflected the one I had with everyone from Satan City. But my pieces were lost and broken then. When I'm back home, when my pieces are put back together, then I can have a whole life, be a whole person.
"I believe you," he said, and smiled. And I knew he trusted me. "But," he added, dropping his hands, "just incase, I want collateral."
I frowned and sat back.
He laughed.
"What do you mean?"
"This." He reached into the drawer in the table beside him and, for an instant, I went blind. When my vision returned, I saw a bulky black Polaroid camera in his lap, my slowly developing face in a glossy square between his fingers.
"Cute," I said, and leaned in to give him a hug.
"So," he sighed into my hair. "How did the others take it?" As soon as I'd woken up that morning I began pulling my friends aside one by one to tell them the twisted tale that was my life. Tetsu had only smiled and accepted the truth without question. He said he always knew there was something secret and special in me, and he was glad to finally know it.
His wife, Kazue, was a little less understanding, and demanded—with tear-soaked cheeks—that I stay with them. But, once the tears faded, she came around and wished me the best of luck, adding that if she didn't hear from me within a week she'd come find me and I would not like the consequences. I hugged her.
Izumi, Izumo's fiery twin sister, had mixed feelings on the subject. We were not as close as Izumo and myself, therefore she wasn't as attached. She admitted that she always suspected I was keeping something important from them; she never bought my lie about being a widow. I knew she never wanted me to be with Izumo, and now I have my proof. But I didn't blame her, and I wasn't angry. It's difficult to trust. I should know.
"When are you leaving?" His voice was full of sadness and rejection.
"Tonight," I whispered.
"I…I'll never forget you, Bulma."
I kissed his lips softly, the way a mother kisses her son, and said, "I couldn't forget you if I tried. And I never want to try."
End Flashback:
Parenthood brings out the best in people.
Chi-Chi's milky white skin is glowing, her silky black hair worn down.
Goku wears the weary up-all-night-feeding-and-burping smile, and his hair is as messy as ever.
They don't judge me. They don't ask questions. And they look right at me.
"Someone say something," Yamcha says, his back against the wall on the opposite side of the living room.
"Where did you find her?" 18 asks, her cold blue eyes no where near me.
"Nobeoka."
"Nobeoka!" she hisses, and Krillin has to keep her in her seat. From her brief movement, I can see the slight curve of her belly. I estimate that she's four months pregnant. It hurts, finding out this way, but I embrace it like a warm summer day. I will be a sponge for pain until I can collect no more. And then I will allow myself to be forgiven. "It's nice to know fish were chosen over us."
"We talked about this," Krillin says, his eyes darting from me to his fiancée. Or are they married now? I want to believe that they wouldn't get married without me, but the sight of the ring on Krillin's left hand tells all.
I am a sponge. I am a sponge.
"She left us for a fucking year! She had her anger!" She stands and I pray that she hits me. "Well, I want mine!"
"She was lied to for nine years," comes 17's voice from another corner of the room. I missed this room. "I think one year of isolation is a blessing compared to what could have happened."
"She was never going to come back," 18 says through her teeth. I missed her temper. I missed everything about her and about everyone else. But it would be so inappropriate to hug her right now. "She doesn't want to be here now!"
"Yes she does," Chi-Chi says, little black-haired brown-eyed Gohan in her lap. He's a mini Goku and I love him already.
"I think she can speak for herself."
I look up and my father has stepped into the middle of the room. My mother, a handkerchief clutched in her hands, sits in the chair behind him. She's been crying ever since I came in the door, and for the first hour I was surrounded by a crowd of familiar, yet foreign faces, all wanting a part of me. I wanted to say, "Don't take my pieces, I just put myself back together," but at the same time I want them to have them. They deserve it after what I've done.
"Do you want to be here, dear?"
"I…" My voice catches and, with all my might, I force the tears back. Crying is not allowed! "I knew I made a horrible mistake the moment I set foot in the shop I bought…Up until then I had nothing keeping me in one place or another. I was too angry to go back, but…but I still knew I shouldn't have left…I made everything worse…I continued to make it worse…"
"Are you sorry?" 18 asks, resentment in her voice. If I say yes, she'll roll her eyes. If I say no, she'll punch me.
I say, "No."
Her eyes narrow and she fights to keep from lunging at me. That, and Krillin is holding her in place.
"I regret staying away for so long. I regret making it so difficult to find me. And I regret causing all this pain, but…I can never regret leaving."
"Look at her!" 18 cried, pointing an accusatory finger at me. I want to ask, "What? What am I doing?" But she answers for me. "She's not the Bulma we all remember! She dyed her hair! She changed her name! She. Is. Not. Bulma."
Krillin whispers something in her ear and she slaps him away.
"Fuck you all," she hisses, then storms out of the house.
"Bulma, I—"
"Don't, Krillin," I say. "I deserved that. I deserve—"
"You deserved not to be lied to," he says almost sternly. "You did not deserve that. She's being childish. Her hormones are all messed up, and she was never good with this kind of stuff."
I know, I think. And I love her for it.
Chi-Chi and Goku are at my side before I realize they'd moved.
"Here," Chi-Chi says, and places little Gohan in my arms. He's wearing the hat I bought for him so long ago.
I break my first rule.
I cry.
I'm crying when she comes into my room, her hair wet from the rain and sticking to her face. It's three o'clock in the morning, but that's the last thing on my mind.
"Don't you dare say one word," she snaps at me. When she comes into the light, I can see the red rims around her eyes. "I'm so mad at you," she continues. Her fists are clenched at her sides. Her chest rises and falls dramatically with each breath. "I hate you, you know that?"
I open my mouth and she flares her nostrils.
I close my mouth and she sighs.
"I have done nothing but wish for you to come back and when you finally do I can't do anything but yell at you! How dare you! How dare you! I was fine, I was happy, I was…I was perfect before all of this! But now? Oh no!" That cynical laugh could make the most steroid-pumped body-builder whimper and flee. I soak it up. I am a sponge. "Now I cry all the time! I watch the news and read the paper, searching for news about you! I am obsessed with you! I—"
I can't stand it anymore. I jump off my bed and throw my arms around her, holding her tight even when she slaps and punches at me to get off. She digs her nails into my back, then her knees buckle and we both tumble to the plush carpeted floor. Her tears soak my shirt, but I barely notice.
"I missed you so much," she cries, her voice a convocation of pitiful sobs and whimpers. She is a broken woman. She is a mother. "I never knew…I never knew how much—"
"Me either," I whisper, stroking her hair.
"You never know what you have," she laughs bitterly into my dyed mess of black stringy hair.
"You scared me, 18."
She laughs again, and leans back, looking me in the eyes for the first time.
"Likewise, B." And then her face goes somber again. "He'll be here tomorrow."
I keep an expert calm and refrain from flinching. Inside my nerves are shooting off. This must be what paralysis is like.
"I know," I say.
"He's taking a non-stop train that'll be here at ten tomorrow morning."
She gauges my reaction. I surprise her.
"When Yamcha told me he didn't contact anyone when he left, I knew he was either lying or didn't know. He needs to vent, he needs to have people, whether he'll admit it or not."
"He needs you," she adds. "He loves you."
"He loves me," I whisper back, wiping at my drunken cheeks. "But will he—"
"He will."
The debate is over.
At this point I don't know how to continue. She's forgiven me, she's not yelling or accusing or doing any of the things that I expected, any of the things that she should be doing. Her reaction to me returning is what should have been everyone's reaction.
I bite my lip to keep from crying, yet again.
I must be a masochist.
"You got married," I say off the top of my head. I want to hear her voice when she's not angry; I am so selfish.
"Yes. I got married."
I open my mouth, but she stops me.
"When you didn't come back after three months, I had grown so bitter I didn't care that you weren't there. I regretted it the moment I started to walk down the aisle and you weren't up there standing next to Chi-Chi…I guess we've all made a lot of big mistakes."
"I know one person who hasn't."
She arches an eyebrow. Who is this innocent she's talking about, she must be thinking.
"Vegeta always wanted to tell me, but you all forced him not to. He even tried to tell me a few times…Yamcha said he didn't because he saw how happy I was and didn't want to ruin it by upsetting me…I wish he knew—I wish everyone knew—that I wasn't happy then…I'm going to start seeing my shrink again in a couple of days," I add, as if it's an unimportant side note.
"There's something else you should probably know."
I wince as if she'd struck me, and ask, "What?"
"I shouldn't be the one telling you this, but he told me I could."
"Vegeta?"
"Yes, Vegeta…You remember his ex's, Aimee and Jacqueline?"
I nod, ignoring the deep feeling in my gut that tells me I already know what she's going to say.
"Well, they—"
"They never dated," I say quickly, unsure if I've even said it until I see 18's reaction.
"How did you know that?"
"I've had a lot of time to think over the past year," I sigh, wishing that that weren't the case. "When I found out that me and Vegeta had been engaged and that he wore my ring on a chain, I knew, somehow, that he was never with another woman after me. Aimee and Jacqueline were ploys. He was trying to get me to notice him…I was too clouded and stubborn to realize anything back then…"
"Are you mad?"
"Are you kidding?" I laugh. She smiles. "I'm relieved."
It all happened so fast.
He's standing before me, his face solemn, and I can't make my mouth work. I stare at him, knowing how rude it is, but I'm too stubborn to look away. My heart needs this, my heart needs to look at him, know he's real, and not just something I've been imagining was once mine.
A full minute passes. The room is pin-drop silent, on the razor's edge of anticipation.
"Please," I whisper desperately. "Say what you have to say. I deserve it all."
Nothing.
"Vegeta, I ran away, and you can't say one word to me?"
His eyes harden and he lifts his chin just the slightest bit.
"I only have one thing to say to you," he says.
I shut down, breathless and breaking. His voice. His voice is the most amazing sound in the world. Just to hear it again I feel I'm taking too much from him.
"Y-Yes?"
The room takes a deep breath and holds it.
I count in my head to keep from screaming or crying.
And then he says it, and I wait for the world to explode.
Chapter 14:D Now, if you people weren't expecting that, then you don't know me as an author at all :P Heehee! I'll try really hard to get the next chapter out soon, but there are no promises. I'm almost done with my last week of classes, and then next week is finals week, which mean busy, busy Marci.
REVIEW! And I will always love you ;)
Next time: What did he say?
