On the way to the hospital, my mother and I stop at the local store at her request, in order to select a gift for Sofia.
"Do you think she would prefer books or art supplies?" My mother asks.
"Well, Zola gave her a new book yesterday, so maybe art supplies? But whatever you think is best, she will be grateful either way." Sofia doesn't need anything, but I know that she would appreciate the sentiment. Plus, she is bored in the hospital, so something to do would be a welcome distraction.
"What type of art does she like? Does she like pencils like you did or is she more into paints?"
I offer a small smile at the mention of my artwork. It's rare that anybody I talk to (Arizona not included) brings up my drawing, mostly because they aren't aware of it. "I've been helping her learn to use watercolour pencils recently, but she uses mine. Maybe she would appreciate her own?"
"I'm going to pretend I know what that means, could you point them out for me? And I'll find a sketchbook for her, or does she prefer to colour?" I can't help it. I feel a little hopeful that maybe she's telling the truth, that she really does care about me and my family. Maybe she isn't going to leave again. The amount of care and thought she is putting into getting a gift for a child that she has met once, it gives me hope.
"Sure, she has a lot of colouring books, so I would get the sketchbook. It'll give her something to do while she is in the hospital."
"So, you still draw? Or do you just help Sofia and pretend you're only a halfway decent artist when in reality you could have done art for a living." My family always thought that I would have gone into art as a career. Throughout school, all my siblings stated that they wanted to be a doctor. I also liked the idea of being in medicine, but not as much as the others. I wanted to keep my options open.
"I draw, not really for other people to see, but still. Arizona has seen lots of them."
"Do you remember when you were 14 or 15 and you drew that family portrait? It had all of us, and you drew your Dad, like he was there with us all and your school had it up on the wall?" I'm confused as to the relevance of the specific drawing, but I do remember it. I remember how proud I was. I think It may actually be the last thing I remember drawing before I was attacked. The last drawing that I remember showing to people because I wanted to share what was going on in my mind.
"Yeah, I remember."
"Well, the school called when they were taking it down, they said that you had told them you didn't want it." I nod in acknowledgement.
"I remember. After 'it' happened," I begin, referring to my attack, "I didn't really want to share anything with anybody anymore."
"Well, don't be too mad, but the school let me have it. When you went to college, I hung it in my bedroom. When you stopped coming home for visits, I put it on the wall at the bottom of the stairs. I think about you every time I see it. And if it makes you feel any better, your sisters love that drawing. I don't think they know you drew it, but they love it."
"I'm not mad." I state and a look of disbelief flashes across her face. "I mean, I would have been if you told me when I was younger but not anymore. I like that they don't know it's mine, it means they won't criticise it. There is a drawing in my bedroom, you might have seen it. It's of me, Arizona, and Sofia; I drew it and Sofia coloured it in."
"I was more distracted by the photo of your son, and then the pictures of you and your fiancé."
"Yeah, well anyway, I get it, I mean, the drawing, why you kept it. She would like these pencils." I switch the topic, handing my mother the art supplies. She selects a sketch book holding it out to ask what I think. I give her a nod of approval and we walk towards the greetings card section. She finds a get well soon card as well as a gift bag before we head to the checkout.
When we arrive at the hospital, I ask my mom to wait outside for a moment while I go into Sofia's hospital room. I want to check whether Sofia is okay and feeling up to visitors. I open the door quietly to see Sofia is awake, laid in bed with her book, but Arizona is sleeping, hunched over with her head on Sofia's bed. "Hey kiddo, how are you feeling?"
"Bored, but Alex says I'll be able to go home either tomorrow or the day after." She says with a grin, pleased at the thought of being released from this place.
"He did? That's awesome!"
"He says I'll still have to stay in bed, but I can stay in my own bed."
"That is great news, baby." I express, placing a kiss on her head before walking around the bed to Arizona, rubbing my hand lightly on her back to wake her up.
"What? Are you okay?" Arizona panics, sitting bolt upright in her seat.
"Sofia is fine, as am I." I explain, wanting to minimise the panic she is feeling. "My Mom would like to come in and see you, if that's okay with you." I tell Sofia who nods, putting her bookmark between the pages and laying the book on the bed. Arizona panics slightly and attempts to start flattening her hair in order to look presentable. "Az, your hair is fine, I promise - you haven't got a bedhead."
"You look good, Mom." Sofia adds.
I head to the door to let my mother into the room, stepping backward to give her space to enter. "Hi, Sofia. I hear you haven't been feeling too great."
"My appendix exploded, but Alex fixed me, right Amy?" Sofia states, looking to myself and her mom for confirmation.
"He did. He took your appendix out for you."
"But it's okay because we don't need an appendix. They don't really do anything." She explains factually. My mom nods, smiling and pretending she had learned something new from the girl.
"Well I'm glad you're feeling okay. It must have been pretty scary, huh."
"At school yeah, but then Amy picked me up and I knew I'd be okay. Amy and Mom wouldn't let anything bad happen." The certainty on Sofia's face when she says this is powerful. The innocence of a child thinking that her parents can protect her from everything in the world. I hope she never loses that faith.
"And you were super brave." I add, telling Sofia that it wasn't only up to us, that she was strong too."
"And I only cried a little bit."
Unlike Zola, Sofia greeted my mother with open arms. She doesn't have the same feeling of abandonment as my niece, instead she sees the occasion as an opportunity to gain an additional grandparent figure. When my mother gives Sofia her gift, my daughter is over the moon. She immediately passes her book from the bed to Arizona and requests the small desk so that she can draw. She contemplates for a few moments, unsure what she would like to draw until my mother requests a drawing for her to put up on her wall at home. Sofia agrees immediately.
While she is distracted, I move to sit by Arizona's side. The chair is only small, so I end up more on top of her than by her side but neither of us mind. "So, you know how I told you I presumed Derek would have told my sisters I was bi? Turns out he kept his mouth shut. You should have seen my Lizzie's face, it was hilarious." I tell my girlfriend, laughing a little and resting my head on her shoulder, grateful to be here with her rather than alone with my mother like I had been most of this morning.
"So none of your sisters knew?"
"I doubt it. If Liz didn't know, it's unlikely any of them did. Although, it's been over an hour since she found out so by now they all know."
"You're fine with them knowing, right?" Arizona inquires and I nod without a second thought.
"Yeah, I presumed they already knew, and if they didn't from when I was younger, I was almost certain my mom would have told them but also no."
"I didn't know whether you wanted them to know." My Mom chips in, having already told me this earlier but wanting to re-explain to my girlfriend.
"Amy doesn't care who knows, right Amy?" Sofia responds, not looking up from her drawing to join the adult conversation.
"Nope, not at all."
"Why would some people not tell their family?" Sofia asks curiously, this time not looking up from her drawing.
"I guess because they're scared. Not everybody is as accepting as you baby. They might be scared that their family won't love them anymore." Arizona explains to Sofia, cautious that she doesn't alert Sofia to a lot of the hate that exists in the world, but also not wanting to lie to her.
"That's stupid. It doesn't affect the family." Arizona and I both laugh a little at her statement.
"We all know that, but some people aren't as smart as us. Some people think being gay is bad and we can't make them change their minds. They're going to have to figure it out on their own." I respond, adding to her mothers earlier explanation but in a way that answers the girl's question.
"Are lots of people mean to you both?" I turn to Arizona, handing this question to her, not sure what level of response she would like in this context.
"Sometimes people don't understand, and they might make mean comments, but not often anymore."
"But when you were younger?" Sofia asks and Arizona nods, yes.
"Yeah, some people said some not very nice things, but I tried not to let it bother me."
"How?"
"Because I knew who I was, and I knew that I was happy with who I was. If people had mean things to say, it was usually because they were projecting their own unhappiness onto me, and I wasn't going to let them."
"That's smart. Were people mean to you too, Amy?" Sofia asks, looking to me for an alternate perspective on the issue.
"Not a lot of people knew I was bi, but most of the people who did know were nice. A few people at school found out and weren't very kind but it was fine, nothing too bad. I was lucky. Then when I got to college, nobody cared."
"So you kissed lots of girls in college then?" Sofia asks with a mischievous giggle, aiming to embarrass me, but I respond almost immediately, with no second thought.
"A few, but none of them were as pretty as your Mom." I tell her, twisting my body to give Arizona a quick kiss.
"Eww not in front of me." Sofia squeals a little.
"You brought it up." Arizona explains with a shrug and Sofia sighs realising her mother has a point.
"Did you go to college, Carolyn?" The ten year old asks, turning her attention away from her mother and I.
"I did, I got a nursing degree, but I didn't move away like Amelia did."
"Why not?"
"I was pregnant with my oldest daughter, so Amelia's Dad and I moved in together and he worked while I went to college. It was lucky I was in New York so there were lots of options."
"That's cool. Whereabouts in New York did you live?" Sofia asks.
"Westchester. I still do, we moved into a bigger house after our third baby was born." Sofia smiles and nods, presumably because she knows of the location my mother states.
"Near Presbytarian Lawrence Hospital?" She inquires.
"About a 20 minute drive from there, how do you know New York so well?"
"I lived there for a couple years with my Mama before I moved back in with Mom. Mama worked at Presbytarian. Did you ever go to the Ice-cream sundae shop down the road from there? It's called A La Mode and it's my favourite." Sofia expresses excitedly. She has mentioned this ice cream place to me before, stating that it is her favourite place in the world.
"I have not, but if it's as good as you say, I will have to check it out."
"Next time I'm in New York I'll take you. I'll be going to see Mama for some time this summer, right Mom?"
"Yes, you are." Arizona nods. "and your birthday is with your Mama this year."
"Well you are always welcome to stop by, so long as your Mama is okay with it. All of you are welcome if you ever want to come stay while Sofia is with her other Mom, or just for a holiday." My mother offers, but I offer a stare and a slight shake of my head. This had not been discussed previously.
"I would like that, but I don't think Mom will come." Sofia says sadly, looking into Arizona's eyes.
"We will talk about it later, okay Sof?" Arizona tells her with a nervous smile.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to overstep." My Mom apologises, sensing the nervous tension in the room.
"It's not you. It would be great to take a break away, I just, I haven't been on a plane since the crash. I just-"
"Arizona, you don't owe anyone an explanation. It's okay." I tell my girlfriend, taking her hand in my own. I sense her nerves rising so I hold eye contact in order to not let her spiral into panic.
"Mom doesn't like to talk about it. I'll visit though, then you can tell me all Amy's secrets."
"Hey." I complain jokingly, looking between my mother and daughter. "Sof baby, would you be okay with my Mom if your Mom and I nip up to day care to see the others?"
"We will be fine." Sofia offers a small grin, nodding that she is okay.
I take Arizona by the hand and lead her out into the corridor. Her grip on my hand has tightened significantly and her breathing is shallow and laboured. I squeeze her hand back, letting her know I am here and continue to walk away from the ward, pulling her into the stairwell.
"You're okay. Breathe, Arizona. You don't have to do anything or go anywhere."
"I'm okay." She heaves softly, resting her head on my shoulder. "I don't know why that freaked me out."
"You don't have to explain yourself. It's okay, I get it."
"Your mom must think I'm crazy." Arizona shakes her head, a nervous laugh being released due to her own discomfort.
"She will think nothing of the sort. You're crazy strong, Arizona. She probably didn't even notice you were panicking." I reassure her.
"Really?"
"Really. She likes you. Nothing to worry about."
Once Arizona has calmed down, we begin walking toward my office as it is on the way to daycare and due to both Sofia and my mother, Arizona and I haven't had a chance to speak openly with one another yet today.
"What happened with her this morning? I kinda expected much more tension between the two of you." My girlfriend asks as we enter the room.
"I did too, but we are okay, actually, we are better than okay. For the first time since before my dad died, I felt like she actually cared about me. It doesn't fix anything, but still..."
"She'd be an idiot not to. You're great."
"I found out why she came here. She's been going to a grief support group and she realised that her biggest regret after my dad died was not being there for me. She said she wants to make it right." I reveal, explaining what my mother and I had discussed earlier.
"What did you say?"
"I said I was glad she was getting help, and as great as her wanting to be in my life now is, it doesn't make up for the fact that she wasn't there then. I told her I'm not mad about it, just that I'm still working through the crap that happened back then so it's going to take time."
"How did she react?" Arizona asks, and I pause as I question the change of dynamic. A few moments ago I was the one comforting her and now we have traded places. I shake the thought from my head, how I got here is irrelevant. I simply answer her question.
"She said that I was right. Then we talked a lot about my suicide attempt."
"You did?" The shock on Arizona's face is evident. She wasn't expecting me to talk about this, and truthfully, I hadn't expected myself to either. It isn't something I talk about often.
"I mean, she said she didn't know how much I was hurting, and I said the fact that I wanted to die should have said more than enough. We talked about what happened that day, and then she asked me why."
"What did you tell her?"
"I asked if she really wanted me to answer, I told her she wouldn't like my answer but she wanted to know anyway so I told her I was raped." Arizona strokes her fingers gently through my hair. She doesn't ask anymore questions, she just continues to hold me close. "She said that she wished she was there for me, she wouldn't have been mad at me, that she would have taken me to the police and to the hospital, but she understands why I didn't trust her. And she told me none of what happened was my fault and that she is glad I'm getting help." Arizona's hand is rubbing gentle circles on my back as I continue to talk. "I know what happened to me wasn't my fault, and I can't count the number of times I've been told that by you and Anne, but hearing those words from my Mom, it felt like I finally had permission to believe them. Not just to know it, but believe it."
"Please don't be mad, but I cut last night. I erm, I spoke to Anne about it at my appointment, and I'm okay now, but you deserve to know."
"I'm not mad at you. I would never be mad about that. Thank you for telling me, though. Do you want to talk about it? Do any of them need checking?" Arizona's voice stays calm and comforting while she allows me to talk.
"Not really much to talk about, everything just got too much for me. I know that isn't really an excuse, I just couldn't not do it. I almost cut a second time after my therapy appointment though, I didn't, but I really really wanted to."
"What happened? In therapy, I mean. Do you know what triggered the cravings the second time?"
"Endogenous opioids." I state bluntly. Just the thought of the topic is making my skin begin to crawl again.
"I don't understand."
"I realised cutting is literally the same as drug addiction. The body produces natural painkillers that act on the same receptors in the brain as opioids. That's why I can't stop, it's literally my addict brain taking over my life again." My hands form fists as I try to control my body and my emotions. Arizona notices this and places one of her hands over mine, nonverbally instructing my to release the grasp and stay calm.
"No it isn't. You are in control, I know you are."
"But, the chemicals are the same. I want to be clean, Arizona. Does this mean my nine and a half years of sobriety are gone? I just, I worked so hard to not use, just to realise that I was still getting high."
"I don't think you were getting high, I think maybe you were using it as a substitution for drugs."
"Like methadone for heroin?" I clarify, making sure I had correctly understood the meaning of her statement.
"Yeah, exactly. It's like you're not experiencing the high, you're just experiencing the lack of withdrawal. You use it to take the edge off."
"I guess, but it still feels like I cheated. Like I'm not fully sober." I explain. I know that it is important for me to discuss this with Arizona, but also discussing the topics is making the cravings worse again.
After a few moments to contemplate a response, once I had calmed down enough, Arizona responds to me. "Maybe this is different."
"What? I just told you it's literally the same thing."
"Hear me out, then if you still disagree, we will see where to go next together, okay?"
"Okay." I nod, being unsure whether anything she could say would change my mind on the topic, but letting her speak anyway.
"Maybe we could consider it a separate addiction. Think about the last time you used alcohol compared to the last time you used drugs. Maybe you're back to day one on cutting, but drug wise, you earnt your sobriety. You have had cutting and using drugs in your mind as two different things. Maybe we continue treating them like that. Today, you are one day clean from cutting, but you're still 9 and a half years clean from drugs."
"I want to keep thinking of it like that, I just, it feels like I'm lying to myself and the first rule of getting sober is being honest." I explain truthfully, I don't have the luxury of ignoring the truth for my own piece of mind.
"Maybe you could talk about it with Anne?"
"I don't think she would understand, though. It's like with you, I know all of your intentions are in the right place, but neither of you really understand addiction and AA."
"Is there anybody you think you could talk to who would understand?" Arizona asks carefully and I nod.
"Yeah but, I don't know. She doesn't know about the cutting and it feels unfair to tell her over the phone."
"Do I know who? Why can't you tell them in person?"
"Charlotte. We called ourselves junkie bffs. It started as a joke, but it's what we were. We went to meetings together, we told each other when we were struggling. She would help, I know she would but it feels unfair to her." I understand that it is important to reach out to people when I'm struggling, but I cannot put that stress onto Charlotte, not right now. Not from a different state.
"If she were struggling with something similar, would you want her to contact you?"
"Of course. I just. I wish I could talk to her in person."
"If you need to go and see her, she's only a two hour flight away. You could go."
"I'm not going anywhere while Sofia is sick. She comes first. Plus, if I go back to LA, even just for a day or two, I want you there. But we would both have to take time off work to drive and it would take several days to get there and several days to get back. I just, it's not practical." I explain. I want her to meet my friends in LA. I know logically that I could talk to Charlotte about this. I also know that if I were to talk to Charlotte about addiction, she wouldn't say anything in front of Arizona. Charlotte doesn't talk about this stuff with just anyone.
"Amelia, if it means that much to you, I will go on a plane. I will have to take a bunch of drugs to knock me out on the flight which is kinda ironic considering you're going because of your sobriety, but I would do it for you."
"I love you, and I appreciate you being willing to do that for me, but can we just bench this conversation for a while please? While Sofia is in hospital, and my mom is in Seattle, I just want to focus on them. When life starts to go back to normal, then we will figure something out."
"Of course. Do any of your cuts need checking before we go up to day care?" Arizona checks and I shake my head, no.
"No, I cleaned and redressed them this morning. They are fine. Thank you though."
When we arrive at daycare, I ask Arizona to get Bailey and Ellis' things together while I talk to Zola. I explain to her that her siblings are going to be going out with my Mom today, and give her the option of whether or not she wants to go. She appears nervous, and she asks whether I had spoken to my Mom about why she had never visited her.
"I have spoken to her, and if you're willing to listen, I think she would really like the opportunity to explain it to you herself. Only if you're comfortable with it though." I make sure that I am giving my niece the choice. That last thing I want is to put her into a situation where she doesn't feel comfortable.
"If I let her talk to me, does that mean I have to go out with her all afternoon? What if I don't want to afterward?"
"Then you can stay in Sofia's hospital room. I'm sure she would appreciate the company."
"She can talk to me, but I want it to be just the three of us. I don't want to upset Ellis and Bailey." Zola decides and I nod, pulling her into my arms for a small hug.
We drop Zola off in Arizona's office which is only down the hallway from Sofia's room and I ask my mother if she will come with me for a moment. I explain that Zola has agreed to talk to her, but wanted to do so where there are only the three of us and lead my mom towards the room where the girl is sitting.
Upon our entrance to the room, Zola immediately gravitates towards myself, moving to sit by my side and hold my hand.
"Zola, I'm sorry I didn't realise that you were uncomfortable last night, I didn't mean to make you feel that way. I would really like to be a part of yours and your brother and sister's lives if you would let me."
"Why now?" The girl asks bluntly.
"Because I miss your dad, and I bet you miss him too and I'd really like the chance to talk to you about him."
"He died over five years ago. Why didn't you come then?" This is only the second time I have seen Zola converse in such a harsh tone, with a cold demenor. The first time I had seen it, I was the one that she was mad at, so I know what my mother is feeling but also, Zola is entitled to feel this anger. She is entitled to have her emotions.
"I don't know. I should have, and I'm sorry."
"Mom, tell her the truth." I interrupt. "Just because she's a child doesn't mean you get to lie to her." I add. I'm not sure why she is lying, whether she is doing so to avoid the awkward conversation or to make herself look like a better person but I shut it down. Zola doesn't deserve to be lied to.
"I didn't want to see your Aunty Amelia, so I didn't come." My mom states, and Zola looks at me to check whether she is telling the truth. I nod, indicating that she is being truthful, and Zola replies with another question.
"Why not? Aunty Melia is the best."
"I didn't look after Amelia as well as I should have done when she was a child, and I felt guilty about that. I wasn't ready to talk to her." It is strange to hear her say these words aloud, but I try not to rise to it, instead letting Zola lead the conversation.
"You could have still called us. Aunty Melia would have let you talk to us without talking to her."
"I know your aunt would have been okay with it, but I think it would have upset her a little bit to be excluded like that. I wasn't ready to see her yet because it would have made me sad, but I still didn't want to upset her."
"Why does seeing Melia make you sad?"
"Because Amelia reminds me a lot of her Dad." My Mom admits.
"Isn't that a good thing?"
"It's a very good thing, but she makes me realise how much I miss him."
"Yeah, I guess that makes sense. But Melia didn't ask to be like her dad, it's not her fault. I don't think you should punish her for being who she is." I am unsure where the sudden anger from the ten year old child has come from. It's rare I see her this angry.
"Zozo, she wasn't trying to punish me." I try to explain, but my niece isn't all wrong. Even if it wasn't her intention, I did feel as though I was being punished..
"I was trying to protect her. A child should never have to see their parent sad. I didn't want Amelia to blame herself for making me sad, I wanted her to be happy."
"I didn't blame myself for you being sad. I blamed the guys who killed dad. I knew it wasn't my fault." I tell my Mother honestly.
"He was killed?" Zola asks, a little shocked at this information. "I thought he was just ill or in an accident or something." She continues. I recall that I had told her about my father's death, but I couldn't remember how much I had told her.
"He was shot and it was super scary, but I was okay because your dad looked after me."
"You and dad saw him get shot?" She asks, it is evident that she has a much clearer recollection of the night I told her Derek and I had been there when my dad died.
I nod in response. "Yeah, we did." I confirm. Surprisingly, despite her over inquisitive nature, Zola doesn't ask anymore questions, instead she wraps her arms around my waist and rests her head on my chest for a cuddle.
"I want to go wherever you go this afternoon. If you go out, I'll go out. If you stay with Sofia, I want to stay too." Zola informs me. She says it loud enough for my mother to hear too, but she doesn't look away from me.
"Okay, well we are going to give Sofia the choice of who stays with her, and then we can go from there, okay?" I ask and she nods.
"Yeah, okay."