University of California Los Angeles, Henry, 2014
She's quiet now. She's wiping the last of her tears and her leg is shaking. I can tell she's fighting the urge to run, again. We've been sitting in silence for about ten minutes, neither of us knowing how to fill it. I look at her, really look at her. She looks beautiful. While I prefer blonde, I have to admit that she can pull of long and brunette. She's a little thinner than she used to be, but much tanner. I blame those both on LA. My east coast girl is living in the wrong place. I'm astounded to be sitting next her. I'm also incredibly angry. I've dreamed about this, her coming home. She would just walk in the door while we were all eating dinner. She would smile really big and just say, "I'm home, baby". I feel my eyes start to tear up, my emotions all conflicting with one another and bubbling up at once.
Pittsburgh, Elizabeth, 2006
It's the third time I've tried to do this. They should really invest in some curtains. He's holding a newborn, she's holding one too. Twins, what a blessing. I asked George to wait in the car, but maybe that was a mistake. How am I supposed to walk up to the door and destroy his seemingly happy life? She must have made a joke, because Stevie is laughing with her. Allison is fawning over her new siblings, going between Henry and the woman, making cute faces at the babies. Jason is sitting next to the woman, when I see it. His lips move, calling her mama. What's left of my heart shatters. I no longer fit here. They are a picture perfect yinzer family. I turn around taking one last look at the beautiful McCord's and I walk away, this time for good.
"Not tonight, huh?" George asks when I get in the car. I shake my head.
"No… George, I don't think I can do this." I admit to him.
"Why?"
"Jason calls her mom." His face reads in understanding.
"Where do you wanna go?" he asks me, as if I'm supposed to know.
"Somewhere sunny?" It comes out as a question. I feel the tears catch in my throat as I think about my little boy calling someone else, mom.
"He called her mom" I let out a sob, George leans over the center console to bring me into a hug. I think about how far I've come, to let him touch me.
"It's gonna be okay, kiddo." I continue to cry in his awkward hold.
University of California Los Angeles, Elizabeth, 2014
"Elizabeth." He says it like a prayer. I can hear the tears in his voice. I gather my strength, every bit of it I have left and look at him. He looks so hurt and so confused. Our eyes meet, and I swear I can feel the spark. And I find her, I find me. It's instantaneous and overwhelming, almost making me nauseous. It's been too long, since I've been a whole person. I've been living my life in hiding, scared and alone. Sure I've had my reasons, but maybe George was right all those years ago.
"I can't believe this." He has a slight smile on his face. "You're really alive?"
I nod at him, not able to find my voice just yet. The PTSD related muteness scared the hell out of me the first time it happened. I've learned how to overcome it now, it took a lot therapy, but I got there. His face contorts from amazement to anger.
"You're alive." He deadpans.
Pittsburgh, Elizabeth, 2006
I feel the bottle in my pocket. I'm not supposed to be taking them anymore. George asked me not to. He's worried that I'm not taking them for the physical pain anymore. After tonight, he might be right. My heart aches for the life I lost, and I can't make sense of any of it. I open the bottle and spill one out into my hand. Before I can think about it any farther I place the pill on the bathroom counter and crush it with one of the glasses. I gather it up into a line. Before I can stop myself I roll up a dollar bill and I'm flying high. High enough to forget that emotions even exist. Why didn't I try this sooner?
University of California Los Angeles, Henry, 2014
"Y-yes" She cokes on the word. I can feel her anxiety dancing with my anger. I decide to bite the bullet.
"Where have you been?" It seems like the best starter question, easy to answer, and no need for elaboration.
"Here, for about six years." Her eyes cast downward, shame evident on her face.
"Before that?" Her eyes go dark, pain written on her face.
"It doesn't matter." She whispers as she shakes her head. I wish I could see through the walls she has built around herself, I used to be able to see all of her. I have never shared that type of intimacy with anyone else. It was the kind of intimacy where our souls were bared to one another without fear that we would ever be weary of one another. I've never missed it more.
"It matters to me." The words come out harsh, but it does matter to me. I was the one left in the cold to carry on alone, with no choice in the matter. She nods, and starts to look around. She seems overwhelmed by the scurrying kids all trying to make their way around campus.
"Can we um, go somewhere else to talk about this?" she's stalling. I stand, gesturing for her to lead the way. I'll let her stall, if it means that I get to be around her for a little while longer.