Chapter Eighteen: Breakdown
For the first time in a long time, I wanted to go back to being the little girl I used to be.
On Sunday, Patty was relieved to find the cold spell that had come over her mother ever since Patty had announced her Halloween plans was apparently over. As she had assumed, Penny had not taken the news that she was going to a costume party with any sort of grace. Instead she was frosty, avoiding Patty and spending almost every night out with Jean Pierre. So Patty had decided just to wait out her mother's childishness.
After a week it was finally over.
That morning Patty came downstairs and found Penny in the kitchen making coffee and looking unusually perky. She was even humming a little. It was not typical Penny Halliwell behavior. For an instant, Patty flew into a panic that perhaps her mom's relationship with Pork had been taken to a whole new level and that Penny was about to announce he was moving in. Then just as quickly she dismissed the idea as ludicrous; no matter how angry Penny was about Halloween, she wouldn't do something like that without discussing it with Patty first.
Patty decided to take a shot and see if her mother would say more to her than, "Pass the butter," today. "Morning," she said as pleasantly as she could manage.
"Good morning, my darling," said Penny, turning and planting a kiss on Patty's forehead. "How are you today?"
"I'm fine, Mom," said Patty, more hesitantly than her greeting had been. What was this alien cheerful behavior? She sat down on one of the kitchen chairs. "Why are you in such a good mood?"
"What? Can't your mother just be in a good mood?" she asked, and the humming resumed.
Patty shook her head, completely bewildered, and didn't respond. Penny, meanwhile, poured a cup of coffee and turned around to face her daughter. But Patty couldn't think of a word to say. This whole morning was too bizarre.
"How was your party the other night?" asked Penny, causing Patty's bewilderment to triple. She had assumed that once they were on speaking terms again they'd pretend like the party hadn't happened, not bring it up within the first ten minutes of conversation.
"It was okay," said Patty, reluctant to admit that she had had a miserable time. She had quickly discovered that Barry's idea of a party was an immense amount of alcohol and very little else, and not being a big drinker, she had not been too pleased. At least Victor had sensed it and had not gotten completely smashed. And at least she had met...
"Oh, Mom!" she said, suddenly realizing what detail she could give her. "I met this girl named Lottie at the party, and you'll never guess. She's a wit-"
"Good morning!" her mother cried out, so loudly Patty felt the words die on her lips. What the hell was going on? She was about to ask Penny this very question when she noticed her mother was gliding towards the kitchen door, and she turned just in time to see Pork hovering in the doorway, waiting to greet her mother with a kiss.
"Oh my God!" said Patty, and she froze him on the spot.
Penny snapped around to face her. "Patricia Alice Halliwell! What do you think you're doing?"
"What do I think I'm doing? What is he doing here at nine in the morning?"
As though she had been punched in the stomach, Penny's anger deflated immediately. "Well, he spent the night," she said.
Patty stood up abruptly, feeling slightly nauseous. "Mother!" she said. "What the hell were you thinking?"
Penny shrugged. "You're an adult now, Patty. I thought you could handle it."
For a moment, Patty stood and sputtered unintelligently. She had very nearly shouted, "I'm not an adult, I'm nineteen, and no I cannot handle it," when she realized that saying that would undo the months she had spent incessantly insisting she was no longer a little kid. Now her mind spun round and round, trying to think of a different response. Finally she settled for, "You must be crazy to think I would ever be okay with this," and without another word she stormed out of the back door.
Outside she spent several minutes pacing back and forth and, surprisingly, swearing up a storm. She couldn't believe the nerve of her mother. What sort of forty-two-year-old mother went around sleeping with Pork while her nineteen-year-old daughter slept in the same house? "Not a normal one!" she shouted at the door.
She sighed and leaned against the house. She had run out without her purse, so she had no money with her. Uncertain as to where to go or what to do, she sighed and decided just to walk. She started by cutting through the backyard and down through the neighbors' lawn, and that's when she remembered Cynthia had moved back.
Was nine fifteen too early for a visit?
Patty, more out of desperation than common sense, decided it wasn't, and headed down the street towards Cynthia's.
Once she arrived, Patty rang the doorbell, waited without being answered, and then knocked on the door a few times. This didn't bring a response either, and Patty figured that they were probably still in bed. Where else would they be this early on a Sunday?
Church, the little voice in the back of her head chirped, and Patty knew it was correct. Cynthia was a devout Catholic, of course they would be at church.
Well, she reasoned, there wouldn't be any harm in waiting for her to return, and with that thought she settled herself on the top stair, prepared for a decently lengthy wait.
This was not the first time Patty had sat on Cynthia's stairs, awaiting her return. A few times when she was little, Patty had run away from home, usually when she had broken something and was scared to tell her parents, or because she had had a big fight with them. How little things had changed after nearly a decade.
Except now her mom was having sex with a nasty man she had only met two months ago.
Patty hugged her knees to her chest and dropped her head down. And this was the position Cynthia found her in, an hour later.
Cynthia had done a lot of babysitting for the neighborhood kids when she was younger. There was Tommy Tibson, Kathy Santori, the Egler twins, Mary McKesson, and, of course, Patty Halliwell. Except for Tommy, they were all sweet kids, and Cynthia had really enjoyed looking after them.
She had really loved Patty though.
Patricia Halliwell, as Cynthia had last seen her, was a tall, gangly girl with scraped up knees and a toothy smile. While she liked playing with the other kids around, she was also quiet, and not very bossy, so a lot of them walked all over her. A follower, not a leader, Cynthia's mom would have said, which was a little sad because Patty had been such an imaginative child. Despite this, though, Patty had always seemed like an exceptionally strong little kid, able to take any punch that came along.
Cynthia had always felt a little guilty she had fallen out of Patty's life so easily. She hadn't meant to, but then she had gotten wrapped up in school and her new friends and Bill. An eleven-year-old kid hadn't seemed to fit into her life.
She hadn't even been around when Patty's dad had died, and for that she felt especially guilt-ridden. At the time she had been in the last month of her pregnancy, and Joey had been born three weeks later. It had seemed like a decent excuse then, but now it felt shallow and meaningless.
Now that Patty had unexpectedly fallen back into her life.
She had grown up to be a very beautiful young lady, Cynthia had realized. She wondered if the little kid she had known so well was still buried somewhere inside her now.
Judging by the fact that Patty was curled up on her top stair on a Sunday morning, she'd venture a yes to her quandary. As they got out of the car, Bill gave her an odd look, but Cynthia just smiled and waved him into the house while she tugged Joey out of his car seat. She'd talk to Patty.
She climbed the stairs, Joey in tow, and sat down next to Patty, nudging her with her shoulder. "Hi," she said.
"Hi!" Joey echoed in his bright baby tone.
Patty lifted her head and smiled at Joey, and in return Joey leaned forward and took her cheeks in his pudgy little hands. "Hi," said Patty, and she took Joey's hands and pulled them down, kissing one before releasing them. Joey was delighted.
"So what brings you to my front steps this Sunday morning?"
Patty made a horrific face and rolled her eyes. "Pork," she said. "My mom's boyfriend."
"Oh," said Cynthia, nodding.
"He spent the night," Patty added.
Cynthia sighed, and untangled Joey's curious fingers from her earring. How problems had changed since she last consoled Patty.
"You don't like him?" asked Cynthia.
"I don't know him," said Patty, but it was evident that despite this she clearly still loathed him. "And my mom doesn't either. They've only been going out two months. There's no way she can be in love with him so soon."
"You never know," said Cynthia. "I knew I'd be with Bill forever after one date. That's all it took. Everyone is different."
"How'd you know?" asked Patty.
Cynthia shrugged. "I just did. I could feel it in my bones. Like it was fate or something."
Patty nodded and stared out at the street. For the life of her, Cynthia couldn't figure out what she was thinking.
"Aren't you scared something's going to happen?" she finally asked.
"What do you mean?" asked Cynthia.
"What if you lose him?" asked Patty. "Is being with him now really worth all the pain that might come later? What if something horrible happens? Is it worth the risk?"
Bill was a policeman; it was not the first time she'd thought that there was a chance she could lose him before they were old and gray. It was something, in fact, she had thought about for quite awhile.
"I would rather have a little bit of time with Bill even if it ends badly, then spend my whole life regretting not having him at all."
Patty shrugged. "Sometimes I'm not so sure it is," she said. And then she got up and walked away.
Well, Cynthia thought, deep down Patty Halliwell really was the same little girl who'd been afraid to take a chance.