..::.. Chapter 36 - Until the weekend ..::..
Young - High school, Continued ...
Tears pour out like rain, and the sky outside is clear and pure blue. I can't hold back. I'm devastated, I can hardly breathe. Edward sits next to me, no shoes or shirt as he stares out the window, watching the treetops and street signs passing by. School buses make their rounds and life goes on.
I'd like it to stop—my heart.
The driver pulls up to a sidewalk close to the school, but we don't move. He steps out eventually. I watch as the lighter burns the tip of his cigarette outside.
"You ask me, every time," I speak up. "And my answer has always been the same. I do love you. I'm deathly in love with you. I always have been. But this ends here."
"I won't lose you, too," he utters, not looking at me.
I grab the door handle, he grabs me. He catches my lips with such agony.
"Don't," he pleads. His eyes desperate. His hold is tight around my shirt. I watch him. I pull each finger away.
I cry. "I'm sorry."
I rush out of there as if he'll chase after me.
Bree sees me. She makes her way to my side. One glance his way and she knows. She watches me all day with furrowed brows, but she never asks. No need, this was destined to end this way.
"I think you should go home," she offers by lunchtime. I don't think I've stopped crying all morning.
Mom. Alone. I left her behind. My stomach churns just thinking of it. I grab my things and walk home. And for once I don't feel the weight of watchful eyes.
When I enter the house, Jasper sits in the living room.
"Get out," I order.
He straightens, hunched over on the sofa. He's taken aback. I hold the door open. He complies, but pauses at my side. He works up to tell me words I don't care to hear. He keeps them to himself. I slam the door shut when he steps out.
I search for her. I melt on my knees, blurred eyes, once I see her sitting by her vanity. The room is dark, saturated with her delicate perfume, and I love her now like I never have. She defended me. She almost killed for me.
"I'm so sorry," I staggeringly say.
She's silent. Her reflection is all she looks at.
"Mom?" I try. I touch her arm. Her eyes close and a tear runs down. "You were right. I'm sorry, all right?"
She shakes her head. "I don't want that man in my house."
I glance at the door. "He's … he's not here. I told him to leave."
I dare ask, breaking the silence.
"Where did you get it, the gun?" I shake my head. "Mom, this is crazy."
"Is it?" she says with a look. "It never did seem crazy to me. It's always been about surviving."
I'm silent.
"My priority was always to protect you, you hear me?" I nod.
"Is it the only one?" I mean the gun. She doesn't answer. "More?" I swallow thickly.
She looks at me square in the eyes. "Baby, they're all over this house. Your grandfather's shotgun is tucked under the sofa."
My eyes widen.
"But, why?" I barely whisper. She gives me a pointed look. "Why didn't you tell me?" I ask hysterically.
She takes a deep breath and says, "Not even your father knows. Just Elizabeth."
I'm dumbfounded. Edward's mother? I always knew she was desperate to be freed. But Mom and her, a bond?
"Who are you?" I ask, overwhelmed.
She jabs a finger at my face. "Your mother, who is fed up and taking all damn precautions. That's who!"
I almost show my palms the way Edward did.
She flicks her hair over her shoulder. "You know what this means now, don't you?" She tears her eyes away from the mirror to stare pointedly at the likeness to hers. "You must leave."
I don't know what to say.
"I won't take no for an answer, you hear me?"
My shoulders drop. "But, go where?"
She sniffs, wipes her cheeks, and runs her fingers through her hair. "Your grandmother's. They already know. It's all set up."
I sink back on my heels. "But … What about school? Mom, I can't leave."
"You will. This is not an argument."
"No," I say abruptly. She looks at me as if I've gone mad. "I mean … I can't leave now. Edward …"
"Will have to live without you. That's it." She leans in. "I'll rip you two apart with my bare hands if that's what it takes."
I blink up at her fury.
Hours seem to pass. We sit there in the dark, and the sun casts shadows through the splits of curtains.
Silently, we go through the plans. I can see them in her eyes. I try to figure out how I'll tell the ones I care about. Then I realize, there's no one. Maybe Ben, Bree? Not even Vick. She wouldn't care. She'd celebrate. I have no connections that matter here. None but Edward. My heart grows heavy. I could disappear, and no one would ever notice.
"Give me until the weekend," I say.
She hears the conviction in my words. She doesn't argue. I stand and head to my room. I grab that duffle bag I've kept for reasons I don't know and dump things inside.
She makes dinner. I can smell it. I could laugh at the absurdity. All the chaos this morning and she goes on with her day. I guess this is her level of normal. Secrets, hiding, all woven into her day-to-day tasks. I suddenly feel utter sadness. All these years and she's just been coping, not living.
I peek at her from the kitchen entry. I look at that part of the cupboard and definitely see that metal edge I never noticed. Fully loaded. Ready to do what it does.
I hug her from behind. She hesitates but holds my forearm to her.
"Mom, what did you mean about Elizabeth?" She's quiet for a while. "Did you two really have a plan?"
She sighs. "Just two tired women, making connections."
I wait, silently.
"We bumped into each other at the grocery store once. You were a baby, so was Edward and Alice. All we did was look at one another as our carts collided, and we knew; we were stuck just the same, our hands full. Over time, we'd visit when we could, and we talked about how to get … unstuck." She's remembering—stiff shoulders.
"So you planned to … end it all?" I ask about her insinuation, what she said to Edward.
She shakes her head. "No, that was just … Anger makes you dream. Years provide time to conjure up every detail. Every story she'd tell, threading together with my own grief. It paints a picture. Plans are inevitable," she says. A tear spills. "But, Bella, that's just it. We never did figure it out. It was impossible. I promised I'd help her, whatever decision she'd make. That I'd do everything in my power to get her out with her two kids. I prepared for the worst, until she stopped coming around.
But that's just it, Bella. That's just it. Time passes, you adjust, accept, you let it consume, and you never can find it in you." She looks at me from over her shoulder.
All the terror crawls like prickles over limbs with her words. Words that describe her, too, not just Elizabeth.
"She died … stuck." She drives that last nail right through that coffin.
My heart pounds.
I surrender to this new plan of leaving fast. A decision. I will do it for her.
"I'm late. Dad will wonder," I say, after a long pause, muffled on her shoulder still.
"Oh," she says. "I forgot you have to cover for the receptionist." She sighs. "I didn't want you to leave tonight."
"Dad will have five hundred questions."
She sighs again. "I'll drive you."
"You'll have to tell him things eventually," I point out.
She turns off the stove, grabs her keys, and heads for the door. "I will."
…..
