I wipe the tears from my eyes as I walk past the Heart Center and Children’s Hospital where I brought Claire to see Abigail almost three months ago. I think I’m finally beginning to understand Claire more than I did just a few weeks ago. I just wish I could understand why Tristan is the way he is with his mother. There has to be more to his hatred than a tragic story of abandonment.
I open the browser app on my phone and begin searching for taxi companies. The smell of fresh snow in the courtyard is such a fresh, calming scent. I wish I could bottle it up and take it home with me. I close my eyes and breathe it in, let it wash away the doubts I have about my future with Tristan. I don’t see the patch of ice on the concrete stairs. One second I’m falling, falling through the smell of snow. The next second, everything is gone.
Chapter Thirty-Five
“I got tired of being the man of the house,” I begin as I set my empty plate on top of the pizza box. “I was twelve years old and you were four. Grandma did the best she could, but she was struggling with money because she was living off the savings and insurance money from when Grandpa died. Grandma didn’t know, but I had started stealing stuff from stores to sell to people at school for money. I told her I didn’t need her to make me school lunches – I thought I was too cool for that – and I told her not to give me any lunch money. But it all became too much. I started to resent Grandma for being so damn cheap and poor.”
I clutch my stomach as the guilt twists my insides. I’ve made more mistakes than I can count, but not being happy with the life Grandma provided for us was the biggest.
I take a deep breath and continue. “Then I got into trouble when one of my friends’ parents found a bunch of watches we’d stolen. I thought that was it. I was going down. My grades had been slipping for a while. I hated coming home every day and knowing that I was going to have to keep you entertained while Grandma spent two or three hours cooking and cleaning. I just wanted to hang out and do bad shit with my friends, but Grandma wanted me to be a responsible young man.”
Molly’s golden-brown eyes are locked on me as she listens, rapt with attention as I prepare to tell her everything I probably should have told her years ago. I think I never wanted Molly to know because I was afraid of Grandma finding out. I don’t think Grandma would judge me, but I think it would destroy her to know that the daughter she still loves very much would do something like that.
“I showed up at Elaine’s house and, at first, she didn’t know what to do with me. She put me to work cutting the lawn and delivering packages, which I assumed were filled with drugs.”
I close my eyes and grit my teeth as I think of the fear that twisted my stomach into knots as I made those deliveries. But even with all the fear that consumed me, there was still an element of excitement to it. And the money was pretty good: $25 per delivery, which usually took less than an hour to complete.
“I thought to myself: I can do this. I can deliver stuff on my bike. It was summer. If I weren’t at Elaine’s, I’d probably be riding my bike around town every day anyway. But this way, I was making money.” I look at Molly and she’s biting the corner of her lip nervously, like she knows what’s coming. “But the deliveries didn’t last. She came to me and told me she found a place for us to live – just her and me. She said she needed to make enough money for the first month’s rent and deposit. We needed two thousand dollars and we could leave. All I had to do is have sex with a girl who actually wanted to have sex with me.”
Molly’s face contorts as she begins to cry quietly.
“She told me that we wouldn’t be able to get the apartment in time just doing deliveries. It would only be a few times and we’d make enough money to leave … I told her I’d never had sex with anyone and I didn’t want to do it, but she wouldn’t let it go. She had a couple of her friends talk to me about it. And one of the younger girls who lived there – I think her name was Cecily, or something like that – she was a heroin addict who was actually kind of pretty. Anyway, she got me drunk and we started making out. Then she just got up and left and I thought maybe I did want to have sex. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.”
I draw in a deep breath and I close my eyes so I don’t have to see Molly’s face when I continue.
“I had sex with the first girl that night. I never found out her name, but I didn’t need to know it. We were both there for the same thing, to get paid. Only thing was she was getting paid in drugs and Elaine was getting paid by … by the guys who came in and watched us.”
Molly has the heels of her hands pressed into her eyelids and I can’t bring myself to touch her to comfort her. I feel filthy, as if the guilt is seeping through my skin. The shame is something I’ve lived quietly with, but talking about it now … it’s so fucking loud and vile. I don’t want to go on, but I know I can’t stop now. She needs to know.
“The first two times were horrible, but the last girl …” I let go a deep sigh as the first sign of tears form in my eyes. “You remember Ashley, don’t you?”
She uncovers her eyes and looks at me with pure shock in her eyes. “Ashley?”
I cover my face to hide the tears. “I hate myself for what I did.”
“Oh my God, Tristan. You … you’ve been living with this and I never knew? All this time, I thought you were mad at Elaine because she’s a piece-of-shit junkie.”
She grabs my hands and pries my fingers away from my face. “Don’t do that,” I say, pushing her away.
She sniffs loudly, her lip trembling as she looks me in the eye. “I hate her.”
“Don’t say that. She didn’t do anything to you. That anger is mine to carry, not yours.”
“Yes, it is! She hurt you and now I’ll never be able to look at her again. I hate her! Oh my God, I hate her so much.”
The mixture of rage and agony in Molly’s face kills me. I don’t want her to be consumed by this the way I have been. Maybe I shouldn’t have told her anything.
“Hey,” I say, grabbing her arm to turn her toward me. “Don’t let her do this to you. She did it to me for way too many years … It’s time to let it go.”
Her nose is starting to drip from crying so hard and I get a strange urge to use my sleeve to wipe it clean, the way I used to when she was a kid and I was too lazy to get a tissue. I get up from the sofa and head for the kitchen to get a paper towel. When I come back, her eyes are closed and her head is leaned against the back of the sofa. Her chest stutters as she draws in a deep breath.
I tap her arm to get her attention and she takes the paper towel from me. She shakes her head as she wipes her face clean.
“Take me back to the hospital. I’ll go with a foster family for a couple of days. I just don’t want you to get in trouble.”
“You’re not going to live with strangers. You’re staying with me tonight.”
“You can’t pretend that nothing is going to happen to you if you keep me here.” She turns to me and fixes me with an intense glare. “And you need to apologize to Senia and tell her everything, or I’m not living with you.”
I can’t help but chuckle at this threat. “You really like her, don’t you?”
“What’s not to like? She puts you in your place and she has the best drunk stories.”
“She does.”
I pull my phone out of my pocket to listen to Senia’s voicemail, when I notice I have a text from Elaine.
Elaine: Your girlfriend fell outside the hospital. She’s in the emergency room. It don’t look good.