On My Knees (25 page)

“This is beautiful.”

“For your writing.”

I looked up too quickly, my headache resurfacing immediately.

“This is too nice.”
Too nice for my words
. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

He took a deep breath, full of relief and exhaustion, it seemed. I wondered how late I’d kept him up, how scared I’d made him.

“Maya, I’m sorry too…about last night. I shouldn’t have let you leave like that.”

“You’re sorry?”

“I overreacted about Dermott. I mean, I’m not excusing his or Jia’s behavior, but I flew off the handle and you didn’t deserve that. I’m sure you wouldn’t have done this to yourself if I hadn’t been such an asshole.”

“It’s not your fault I drank so much. I can find an excuse to do that any day of the week without your help, trust me.”

“Why?” His gaze found mine. “I can’t promise to understand, but at least try to explain what possesses you to do this.”

I let my forehead fall into my hand. Why? Why did I do this? Time and again, after swearing to myself that I’ll never drink again. After I punish my body so terribly, the way I had last night.

“Sometimes I need to make everything go away for a little while.” I closed my eyes against the reality that I was faced with now, but I couldn’t escape it. “When I’m in the moment, I’m happy,” I muttered, all too aware of my present and overwhelming lack of happiness.

“When all you’re trying to do is cover up feeling miserable, it’s an artificial kind of happiness, wouldn’t you say?”

“Maybe. The relief is what’s addictive, whether it’s real happiness or not. I’m afraid that feeling will stop, that reality will creep back in, and I’ll start feeling miserable before I’m ready to deal with my life again. So I drink more, and then at some point, I don’t realize what I’m doing. I get too far gone, and…yeah, sometimes I black out.”

“And someone catches you when you fall.”

I nodded slowly. “Vanessa and Eli are always around, which is probably why I called Vanessa.”

“I know they’re your best friends, but it’s not their job to make sure you don’t get murdered or taken advantage of by someone.”

I frowned, unable to rationalize that he was overreacting. “It’s not like I haven’t taken care of them too. I’ve held Vanessa’s hair back plenty of times.”

“This isn’t college, Maya. You’re an adult. How long are you going to keep doing this?”

My face heated, my frustration rising to the surface. “You know what, I’m suffering for it enough. I don’t need you judging me. Trust me, this isn’t how I wanted to spend Christmas.” I pressed my fingers to my temples, willing away the pain that came with the force of my words. “What time is it?”

“Almost noon, why?”

“I should head out soon.”

“Where are you going?”

“My grandmother. Not like she’ll miss me, but I should go so she isn’t alone on Christmas. Now that this deal is done anyway.”

“Where does she live?”

“A home, a few hours outside the city.”

“Let me drive you.”

“It’s fine. I usually just rent a car.” I groaned inwardly at the thought of doing absolutely anything in my current condition, let alone coordinating the last minute details of this trip.

“You’re in no condition to drive. Plus it’s supposed to start snowing soon.”

“I’m not still drunk!” I snapped.

He stood up. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you were, honestly. Even so, I can’t imagine you feel well enough to drive. I’ll take you. Go get cleaned up, and maybe we can get some food into you before we leave.”

CAMERON. The snow started not long after we left. I registered immediate relief when the city skyline was in our rearview, as if we’d passed out of a noise and chaos filled bubble and entered another country,
the
country. It happened every time I left, and every time I found myself eager to reenter the bubble upon my return.

Maya had fallen asleep against her coat. She’d barely eaten, but her color had returned a little. She was on her way to better, at least.

A couple hours had passed when the phone rang. I answered quickly to silence it. Olivia. “What’s up?”

“Where are you?”

“I’m with Maya.”

“That’s great, but Mom and Dad are here. Everyone’s wondering where you are.”

“Well, you can tell them I’m with Maya. They’ll love that. We’re going to visit her grandmother.”

“What? Where? Are you driving?”

“Yes, I’m driving, and I probably won’t be back until late. So feel free to be merry without me.”

“Cameron, you can’t leave us here with them.” Her voice had degraded into an angry whisper.

I suppressed a laugh. In a way, I was devilishly happy about her current predicament. On the other hand, I did feel a pang of regret that I’d abandoned her. There were strength in numbers, and usually between the three of us, we could keep any one of us from being fully sabotaged by the onslaught of their judgments and snide remarks. Our army of three had been reduced by one, but we wouldn’t have needed an army at all if she’d kept her mouth shut.

“You made your bed, Liv. Deal with it. Send my condolences to Darren.”

“They are going to freak out. You need to get back here.”

“Tell them to get a hotel, and I’ll be back later. Maybe we’ll have a chance to visit before they go. I’m sorry, but there’s no chance I’m coming back right now.”

“Fuck you,” she snapped before ending the call.

I dropped the phone into the drink holder and focused ahead.

“Who was that?”

Maya had straightened in her seat, her tired eyes looking to me from under her dark lashes.

“Olivia.”

“What’s going on?”

I shrugged, not wanting to get into it.

“Here’s a teachable moment, Cameron. You lecture me about shutting you out, and that’s exactly what you’re doing to me right now. If I’m going to learn by example, you might want to rethink the silent shrug and tell me what’s going on.”
“You must be feeling better. You’re starting to piss me off me again.”

She turned to look out the window, and I caught her smile in the reflection of the window.

“Fine. My parents are visiting. Olivia invited them, sort of.”

“What’s that mean?”

I wasn’t about to tell her that both Olivia and my parents had pegged her as the scapegoat for my mostly self-imposed deployments.

“They’re nosy, and they wanted to check in on us. Once they make up their mind about something like that, it’s difficult to sway them.”

“You still hold a grudge against them? They paid for your school. They’ve given you so much.”

“That’s not what it’s all about, believe it or not. They’ve done a lot for me. I don’t take that for granted. I really don’t, but we don’t see eye-to-eye about what’s important in life. That makes it really difficult to spend time with them without some sort of argument erupting.”

She rested her head on her hand and stared impassively out the window. “I guess I wouldn’t know.”

“What makes you think I want to be dependent on them any more than I did when we were together? The pressure to do exactly what they did, but more and better and to the letter was too much then, and they haven’t let up much since. My father doesn’t negotiate, and my mother is obsessed with what the rest of the world thinks about her. Not a lot of wiggle room for me to fit into that world.”

Maya had been one of the only people who really understood my situation back then. She’d been the one who made me believe that somehow I could make it all work even when my plans ran in such contrast to what my parents had planned and wanted for me. Had she forgotten all that?

“At least you have a world. It would have been easy for you to step right in to help your dad.”

“Of course it would have. But that’s not what I wanted.”

“Maybe I’m bitter. We don’t all get to do what we want.”

I caught her hand. “You could. What do you want?”

She shrugged. “I’m too busy to even think about what else I could want. Not to mention that I have to support myself.”

“Couldn’t you support yourself doing something that made you a little less miserable?”

“I don’t know, Cam. It’s a little late for dreaming.”

“Why? You can’t afford to be happy?”

She was silent for a long time. When she turned to me, her eyes were thoughtful and serious. “Are you happy?”

I shifted my focus back on the road, not sure how to answer that loaded question. I gave her hand a squeeze, hoping she realized that my happiness was beginning to rely on hers. If I had any chance at happiness, we needed to figure things out between us.

As I struggled for the right words, she pointed up the road to a sign partially obscured by the falling snow that read
Laurel Estates
.

“The place is up here.”

MAYA. The home was well off the beaten path, a few miles outside of the quiet main street of the nearest town. We could have landed on another planet for how different it was from our usual surroundings. The sky was darkening quickly with the late afternoon.

We walked in and were greeted by a receptionist.

“Ruth Jacobs, please.”

The petite middle-aged woman manning the desk smiled. “You are?”

“Her granddaughter, Maya.”

“Ah, of course. Just sign in, and I’ll show you to her room.”

I did, and she rose, gesturing for us to follow her.

“She’s been doing well lately,” she said in a quiet tone, “but if she gets agitated, just buzz us and we’ll come rescue you.”

She offered a smile that was both hopeful and sympathetic as we paused outside of the room.

“Thanks.” I looked up to Cameron. “Did you want to come in?”

“I can go grab some coffee or something. I don’t want to confuse her since she won’t know me.”

“She won’t know me either, but that’s fine. I’ll come find you when we’re done.”

“Who is that?” My grandmother’s voice called from inside the room.

I turned toward the sound, hoping today’s visit would go better than the last. I mouthed a goodbye to Cameron before entering quietly.

She was sitting in a chair by the window, her lower half covered with a well-loved blanket that she’d crocheted decades ago. Her hair was pure white, cut short but curling at the ends. Behind her glasses, her eyes were a soft light brown like mine, like my mother’s too.

“Hi, Grandma.” I spoke softly and smiled widely as if we’d been friends all our lives. This usually worked better than starting out with awkward reintroductions that we’d only need to make again in a few minutes. I kissed her and sat in a chair across from her, leaning in so she could see me clearly.

“How are you?” she asked, playing along.

“I’m doing really well. I’ve missed you.”

“You too sweetheart. Did you say hello to Gus? He’s working in the yard.”

“Not yet, no.” I chose not to remind her that my grandfather had died years ago, not long before my mother disappeared entirely. Not to mention the grounds surrounding the facility were covered in a growing layer of snow now.

“We were about to go play cards with the Smiths,” she said, fingering the top button on her sweater. She straightened, as if she meant to take off for her social event at any moment. She always had an air about her, like she wanted everyone to know that what she was doing was important, even if it was weekly game nights with the Smiths. I struggled to think of something I’d want my grandchildren to know to elevate myself in their eyes. I couldn’t think of anything.

“Yeah? That sounds like a lot of fun. The Smiths are sweet people.” I vaguely remembered them from visits when I was a child.

“We go every Friday, you know.”

I smiled and nodded, letting her chatter on, telling and retelling the news that she thought was current and worth sharing. Gus’s arthritis had been bothering him, never mind the cancer that had slowly been working its way through his organs the last time we could share a coherent conversation. On top of that, Bernice Smith had insinuated that her zucchini bread was superior the last time they visited. I offered my support and scoffed at the audacity of her lifelong friend to outdo her in the baking department, only a little jealous that on my current track, I might never know how to bake anything.

She glanced outside for a moment. I studied her face. She seemed unchanged from the young grandmother I’d remembered playing dolls with when my mother was away working. Lynne had always tried like hell to make ends meet. Back before alcohol had stripped away her will to fight and survive, for us.

I’d given up trying to bring Ruthie up to speed on anything I was doing. Our brief and irrelevant talks had to be enough, and I hoped they gave her some comfort. I wasn’t sure how much the people here entertained her, but she’d always been talkative before she started losing her faculties.

She faced me again, her eyes searching mine. I was about to speak, to pick up where we’d left off when she frowned.

“Are you my daughter?”

I shook my head. “I’m Maya, your granddaughter.”

“I don’t have a granddaughter.”

“I’m Lynne’s daughter, remember?” I hated bringing up my mother’s name in front of her, but sometimes it was one of the only ways she’d remember me.

Her cheek twitched and her hands twisted a mangled tissue in her lap. “I know who you are,” she muttered, her voice lower. “I told you not to come back here. I don’t have any money for you.”

I sighed inwardly, sending up a silent prayer that I could turn her back. “I’m not Lynne, Grandma, and I don’t need your money, okay? You’re confused.”

“Don’t tell me I’m confused,” she snapped. “I know who you are. I’d know my own daughter. Stop trying to trick me.”

“Lynne hasn’t been here to see you, has she?” I held onto an irrational hope that my dementia-riddled grandmother could unlock the mystery of my mother’s sudden disappearance.

“Gus was always giving you money. We should have kicked you out when that boy knocked you up.”

I sat back into the hard plastic back of the chair, fighting the urge to snap back at her. She was a child in her mind, even less. I took a deep breath, making myself believe it.

“Do you want to do a puzzle? They tell me you like to do them.”