Darlene
“Dareen!” Olivia kicked her feet in her high chair and pushed at the tray.
“All done, sweet pea?” I wiped her mouth of the strawberry residue, then booped her nose with the cloth. She laughed. “You want to get down?’
“Down,” she agreed. “Bocks.”
“Jeez Louise, girl. You’re all about the blocks, aren’t you?”
I took off the tray and set Olivia down on the floor. She immediately toddled to her pile of wooden blocks with the letters and numbers on the sides, and started stacking.
I watched her for a moment, my smile fading, my heart aching. What was happening at the hearing? Surely, a judge wouldn’t just rip a child from the man who’d been taking care of her as his own just because the grandparents had more money. There had to be some rule or law that protected Sawyer.
“There is, and he and Jackson know about it,” I murmured.
But worry laced the blood in my veins and wouldn’t leave. I sat down with Livvie on the floor and played blocks with her, then read her a story. When she began to yawn and rub her eyes, I put her down for a nap in her little room and left the door open a crack.
The house felt quiet. Waiting. Outside, thunder boomed distantly, ominously. As if something terrible were on the horizon, rolling this way.
“Oh stop. It’s just weather.”
I paced around a bit, shaking out my stiff arms from yesterday’s spa work. I couldn’t afford to miss any more shifts, I was glad I took the day off to babysit for Sawyer. It wasn’t the same as being with him, but taking care of Livvie made me feel good about myself in a way I hadn’t felt in a while.
And maybe, after all is said and done, the three of us...
I shut that thought up quick. In my experience, holding on too tightly to something I wanted was the surest way to lose it.
I wandered around Sawyer’s living area, taking him in through his degrees and awards; his messy desk covered in his study materials he worked so hard on. I missed him. He wasn’t really gone, but I missed him anyway.
And you still have to tell him…
“I should’ve told him at the beginning,” I muttered, my fingers trailing over his pen lying on a stack of notebooks.
But if I had told him, maybe nothing would have happened between us. The Small Something we had was better than Nothing, wasn’t it?
I could practically see Max roll his eyes at that one.
“I know, I know, I’m supposed to be working on being honest and responsible,” I said. “On that note.”
I plopped on the couch and fished my phone out of my purse, to make the call I’d been putting off for days. I opened my contacts and scrolled down to the H’s.
Home.
I breathed out and hit ‘call.’
My mother picked up on the second ring. “Montgomery residence, Gina speaking.” Her Queens accent was pronounced, so it came out ‘Geen-er speakin’.’
“Hi, Mom, it’s me.”
“Hello, baby, what’s wrong? Is everything okay?”
I flinched at her standard opener. “Everything is fine. Really good, in fact. Did Carla tell you I got a spot with a dance troupe? I didn’t even have a planned routine, I just winged it and got in.”
“She didn’t mention it, but that’s wonderful, honey. But how’s the spa job? You keeping up over there? You need money?”
“What? No, I’m fine.”
“Keeping your nose clean?”
“Yes.”
“Good girl.”
“So listen, Ma,” I said, my own accent coming back as if she were drawing it out of me from across the country. “The dance show isn’t a huge deal. It’s in a small space in the city, but they just gave me a solo, and I’d love for you guys to see it.”
“I don’t know, Dar,” Mom said. “That’s a lot of travel for a show that’s what? An hour?”
Thirty minutes. I thought. She’s right. This was a dumb idea. But persistence had paid off for me before, and hearing my mom’s voice awakened in me how much I missed her.
“Not to mention, Grandma Bea’s hip is acting up,” she said. “She can’t travel so good anymore.”
“I know, Ma, but I haven’t danced at all in four years. And anyway, the show would only be one part of it. You could come visit me, and see where I live—in this really cool, old Victorian house. And I could show you around San Francisco. It’s such a beautiful city.”
“When is this show?”
“Next weekend.”
“Oh honey, I can’t wrangle your father into something like that in a week.”
I nodded, trying to ignore the relief in her voice.
“You know how he is,” she said. “Work, work, work.”
I knew how he was. My dad owned a successful auto body shop. He made good money and could take time off whenever he needed to. Or wanted to.
“No, you’re right,” I said softly. “It’s a huge expense to fly all this way, and the show isn’t a big deal. Next time.”
“Absolutely.”
“Give Daddy a kiss for me,” I said.
“I will, baby. Take care, now, and call if you need anything.”
I just did.
“Sure, Mom.” I wiped my cheek with the heel of my hand. “I’ll talk to you soon. Love you.”
“Love you too. Bye, now.”
I let my hand fall in my lap.
“Stop feeling sorry for yourself,” I muttered, but the ache in my heart wouldn’t go away.
A text came in on the phone in my lap from Max.
I need to see you. Work, home, or dance?
Home. Second floor, I typed back, and my heart sank even lower. You’d better not be coming over here to tell me what I think you’re coming over here to tell me.
I’ll tell you when I get there.
Smartass, I tapped, but the ache in my chest deepened.
Twenty minutes later, a soft knock came at the door.
I opened it to Max, and stepped into the hallway, leaving the door ajar.
“The baby’s sleeping,” I said. “And you’re leaving, aren’t you?”
He nodded. “I got the call. My flight leaves in a few hours.”
“I’m so proud of you, Max.”
“Are you?” The softness in his voice and the tears in his eyes shocked me. “I may have been your sponsor, but you’ve also been a friend. It means a lot to me, what you think.”
“Thank you,” I said. “No one’s said anything like that to me in a long time.”
I put my arms around him and held him tight. He held me tighter.
“You’re going to do great,” I said. “Going back to Seattle’s going to be the best thing for you. You can maybe reconcile with your parents, and you’ll definitely meet some hot doctor who is going to love you. How could he not?”
Max kept hugging me. “You’re going to be okay, too. I know it.”
“I don’t. I feel like everyone I care about is moving farther and farther away and I can’t hold on to anyone. My family, Sawyer, you. And I feel that other rock bottom coming. I wish you could be here when it does.”
He pulled away to look at me, concern heavy in his light blue eyes.
“I hate that I’m leaving right now. Maybe I should postpone…”
“Don’t you dare,” I said. “I need to deal with this on my own, I think. Maybe that’s why you got the transfer now. Everything happens for a reason, right?”
“It does,” he said. “And you’re so much stronger than you know. You’ve come far, Darlene. Hold on to that. And call me. Any time.” He gave me a stern look. “And don’t skip any meetings. Not one, or I’ll have to fly back, away from my hot doctor boyfriend.”
I laughed. “I’m going to miss you.”
“Miss you too.”
I hugged him until I heard footfalls on the stairs. Sawyer stood at the end of the hallway. He stared at me in Max’s arms, and his hand resting on his shoulder bag dropped to his side.
I took a step back from Max. “Hi, Sawyer.”
Max whipped his head around and the action prompted Sawyer to stride up to us, eyes forward, his face unreadable. Blank. And that worried me more than anything else.
“Hey, man,” Max said, offering his hand. “Max Kaufman. Good to meet you.”
Sawyer stopped in the door. He stared down at Max’s offered hand, then met my eye for one blood-curdling second before pushing past us into his apartment.
“He had a very important hearing,” I whispered. “I don’t think it went well. God, I’m so scared for him.”
“I hate that I have to leave you like this,” Max said. “I’ll call you when I land.”
He kissed my cheek and I watched him until he was down the stairs and out of sight. I suddenly felt like a tightrope walker strung up between two high-rises.
And my safety net just left to get on a plane to Seattle.
Inside Sawyer’s place, he was shaking off his suit coat that was smattered with rain. He tossed it on the back of his chair, then loosened his tie.
“Where is Olivia?” he asked. No, demanded.
“Sleeping. She’s fine. She’s…sleeping.”
“You can’t just bring strangers into my place. With my kid. You know that, right?”
“I know, I’m sorry,” I said. “He didn’t come in, I promise. He’s—”
“He’s what?” Sawyer asked. “Your drug dealer?”
The blood drained from my head, leaving me dizzy. I reeled. “My…what?” I breathed.
“Were you ever going to tell me?” Sawyer demanded.
“Tell you…?”
“About your criminal record?”
There they were, those three words in all their ugly glory. My criminal record. But how was it coming up now?
“Yes, I was going to tell you,” I said, my voice weak and watery. “I wanted to, so many times but I was scared. But how…how did you find out?”
“I found out at the preliminary custody hearing for my child,” Sawyer spat. “The Abbotts investigated this entire fucking building. Now, in the eyes of that judge, I’m the kind of guy who leaves his kid either with unlicensed childcare all day or drug addicts.”
I stiffened all over. “I’m not a drug addict,” I said, my voice quavering. “Not anymore. I’m recovering. I don’t even drink. Max isn’t a drug dealer, for God’s sake. He was my NA sponsor. That means—”
“I know what it means,” Sawyer said. “I just have no fucking clue what I should think about it. Jesus, Darlene.”
He shook his head and the stony exterior started to shatter; I could feel the tension radiating off of him as he tried to hold himself together.
“Did you lose her?” I asked, my voice hardly a whisper. “Because of me?”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s over.” He shook his head, then planted one hand on the wall as if it were the only thing keeping him standing. “It’s all over.”
And I knew he meant me, too. Whatever we had had, it was gone now. I’d tried, once again, to hold on by not telling him, and it all was wrenched out of my fingers.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “For so much. For everything.”
Sawyer raised his eyes to mine and for a split second the hard, stony exterior cracked and the pain flooded out. He opened his mouth to speak, and at that moment, lightning flashed and a booming thunder followed after. Rain lashed the windows in a sudden deluge, as if the sky had cracked open.
The sound woke up Olivia; the baby monitor chirped with her fussing. Neither of us moved and that ugly feeling of wanting to escape everything I was and all I had done came over me. I hurried to Olivia’s room.
She was standing in her crib, and her sleepy little face broke into a smile to see me.
“Dareen.”
She held her arms to me and I picked her up; held her close for a moment, breathing in her sweet, baby powder smell. Her arms went around my neck, squeezing tears from my eyes in her little hug.
It felt like goodbye.
Back in the living room, Sawyer stood with his arms crossed, his gaze cast down and his expression hard again.
“Look who’s awake,” I said weakly.
“Daddy,” Olivia said, her voice still cloudy with sleep.
Sawyer looked up at Olivia and me, his face a blank mask. And then he strode forward and took the baby out of my arms.
My skin went cold all over; I felt where Olivia’s warmth had been, and a goose bumps raised on my skin. Sawyer took his child a few steps away and turned his back on me.
“Okay,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. A thousand more words rose up behind that one: how I’d been clean for almost two years, the progress I’d made, how proud Max was...
Max. He was gone. That pain hit me in the chest to join that of Sawyer’s silent rejection. Tears drowned every other word I had, and I grabbed my bag off the kitchen chair.
“Okay,” I managed again. “Okay.”
It was all I could say and yet nothing was okay. Not one thing.
I went to the door and opened it. Sawyer stood in profile to me, his gaze over Olivia’s head, full of thoughts but none for me. His silence was worse than a thousand condemning words.
“Goodbye.”
My voice broke and Sawyer’s head whipped toward me, his hard features morphing into pain and regret, and his mouth opened as if he might finally have something more to say, but I shut the door between us.
Outside in the hallway, I leaned my forehead against the cool wood. Rain smattered the small window in the hallway, and lightning lit up the night sky. I pushed off the door, and headed out instead of up. Out into the cold wind and rain that had doused the summer heat. It tore through my clothing. I was drenched immediately and shivered hard enough to rattle my teeth.
There’s a bar two blocks down. Someone there will know someone. Know where I can score. Whiskey sour and a pill, and who gives a shit what Sawyer thinks of me.
“Max,” I whispered, like a cry for help. The wind tore the word and drowned it in rain. I looked up and down the street to see if I could still catch him, but there was no Max. No help, save what I gave myself.
The bar was two blocks away.
The Y with tonight’s NA meeting was six.
Backward or forward.
I stood on the empty street, and the rain came down.
I pulled my phone from my purse with shaking fingers and shielded it from the downpour. My finger hit the Uber app and I waited. I’d had no words in Sawyer’s apartment but they were coming back to me now. So many of them, filling me up, filling that emptiness that lived within me that I’d tried to fill with drugs. Filling me with the truth, that I was not the sum of my criminal record; I was not words on paper, black and white.
I was everywhere in between.
At the Y, there was an NA meeting already in progress. It wasn’t my group, but it didn’t matter. It was my community.
A woman stood at the podium, but she fell silent when she saw me come in. The rest of the group turned in their seats to follow her jaw-dropped stare, to me, dripping rainwater and shivering.
I strode to the front of the group and the woman wordlessly gave up the podium. I met the gazes of those assembled. My lips trembled with cold. All the words I’d wanted to tell Sawyer but couldn’t were boiling up now, and I wished, more than anything, that Max was here one final time, to hear them. Because if he could have, he’d be getting on that plane knowing he had done his job. And that he didn’t have to worry about me. Not anymore.
I faced the assembled group, my hands clutched the side of the podium.
“Hi,” I said. “My name is Darlene and I’m an addict.”
My voice was strong despite my trembling jaw, and the voices that answered were just as strong, lifting me up and carrying me on a simple, two-word current of acceptance.
“Hi, Darlene.”