Chapter 21
"So, Colin bought you a new car." My mom finally comments on the car I came with. The black car is parked in front of her house, shining in the sunlight, the last rays of the afternoon caressing the metal chassis. Yes. Colin bought a new car for the unemployed, single mom, and the smell of it . . . The smell of that car, and the way it glided on the road. My driving experience has never been so enjoyable, though I'm now being extra careful and afraid any driver down the road will scratch my gift. Mostly I'm afraid of the man who is still sitting in his car across the road from my mom's, staring stupefied at the car in which I entered the driveway. I'm sure he knows who bought it, and he's probably not happy.
Vivian is watching a movie in the living room, and we drink coffee in the kitchen and try not to talk about my parents' fragile relationship. This leaves us talking about my relationship, which is certainly as fragile.
I know that now another conversation is going to happen about my ex who is trying to get back into my life in every possible way. He may have said he wouldn't woo me, at my request, but since that kiss, my body has awakened and is calling him back. The problem is that my heart is starting to cooperate, and it scares me to the bone.
"I'm surprised you let him." My mom raises her hands in front of me dramatically.
"I had no choice, he made it clear this is what was happening."
"And how does it feel to let someone else take responsibility and prevent you from having a headache?"
"Too good," I admit bitterly.
"I'm sure." She, as it seems, is very pleased with the latest development.
"He decided which car, where we would have dinner, and the feeling was like—"
"Like something you can get used to."
"I don't remember the last time someone took care of everything, and I could just breathe."
"This boy loves you so much," she says bluntly.
"I think I'm aware of that." What does it help me that Colin loves me if I can't trust him?
"Give him a chance, Liz, for you."
"I need to think about it." I stare at the coffee instead of her critical face. "I have to think really hard, because I know that once I let him in, he'll steal my heart again."
"And that's bad?" As if she doesn’t know how bad it might be.
"It's dangerous, I want to be sure before I decide."
"There are no guarantees in life," she throws at me a cliché that suffers from overuse.
"I'm aware of that."
"So you have a new car."
Are we going back to that?
"New car courtesy of Colin Young." Yes, I have a new, impressive, pampering, and especially not getting stuck kind of car, and what do you know, it even starts on the first attempt.
"At least cook him dinner as a thank you."
"I'll think about it." I don't want to invite him for dinner, he may try to kiss me again or do something inappropriate. "I need to talk to him about Viv's surprise."
"What surprise?"
"Something about her birthday. He sent me a message this morning and I didn't understand anything."
"So you're not bringing that clown." My mom has heard me grumbling about him more than once.
"Max the Great," I roll my eyes. "The only thing great about him is the check he gets at the end of the evening."
"What's the plan?" She gets up and clears the coffee from the table.
"Colin said he'd bring someone," if I understood correctly, "and that I should invite Vivian's friends. I suppose I could have them in the back yard." We'll buy some snacks. It won't cost too much and won't make a mess.
"That could be nice," my mom washes the cups quickly, "Vivian will be happy."
"If he doesn't screw up." I remind her of who we are dealing with.
"Give him a chance," she grumbles quietly, but I hear very well. I'll give him a chance, and he better not mess it up.
My father is standing outside my new car. He embraces Viv, who ran straight into his arms, takes a deep breath and then slowly releases the air from his lungs, in a particularly dramatic spectacle.
"Why is a new Chevrolet parked in front of my house?" He looks away from me to the new Chevy and back to me.
"Hello, Dad," I reply harshly, not wanting to talk to him. I may be wondering if I should forgive Colin, but my father is a different story. What he did is beyond any atonement I can think of. I open the car door, take Viv and sit her in the seat.
"I asked you a question," he crosses his arms.
"Colin bought it." I enjoy turning the knife in his heart, knowing that Colin's name drives him crazy.
"Did he?" he grits his teeth.
"Yes, he certainly did." I buckle Viv and close the car door so she won't hear the rest of the conversation, in case it escalates.
"If you needed a new car, you just had to say." He moves nervously.
"From you," I say bluntly, "I don't need anything. We're hurrying home."
"Don't be rude!"
"You lost the right to say things like that." I open the front car door, but he grabs it and prevents me from entering.
"So now the bastard gets to spend time with you?" he rages.
"Mind your own business," I stare at him furiously. "I think you have enough trouble without interfering with my life."
"Stop fighting!" I hear Viv squeak from the backseat.
"We're not fighting," I call out to her in a futile attempt to reassure her.
"Elizabeth," he takes a deep breath, "be careful, please, this guy . . ."
"Let me go, I don't want to talk to you anymore."
He looks down and releases his hand from the car door. I seize the opportunity and sit down quickly behind the wheel, slamming the door in his face. He takes two steps back and looks at me as I start engine, pull out of the driveway and slide into the traffic on the street.
"What do you want to have for dinner?" I try to make Viv forget the argument she heard.
"Potatoes." Thank God, she doesn't ask questions. I nod at her in the mirror. We'll have dinner, I'll put her to bed and I'll continue to hope I can hide the dramas of my life from her.
My phone rings on the morning of Vivian's birthday, half an hour after I dropped her with Mrs. Robbins, as I finish my coffee and get ready to go out and buy snacks for the party. In the bedroom closet I hid the gift I bought, the dress Vivian has been wanting for months. I hope she won't be disappointed that this is all she gets.
"Hey," I reply to Colin.
"Hey, you home?"
"I'm on my way out." I put the coffee cup in the sink.
"Wait five minutes, I need to bring something over." He sounds mysterious.
"Make it quick, I really have to go out. I planned to bake and I'm missing a few ingredients."
"Five minutes." He hangs up and leaves me time to prepare my shopping list.
A few minutes later a strange noise from outside the door makes me abandon the list and go out. It takes me thirty seconds to figure out what I'm seeing and thirty more seconds to catch my breath.
The truck parked on the road, from which porters are unloading tables, leaves no room for doubt. Colin lied. He did something and didn't tell me, and he is about to hear from me about it.
"Get out of the way, Lizzie," he shouts, "we have a lot of work to do!"
I noticed that he is slipping slowly into his old habits, and my nickname returns more frequently.
"What on earth are you talking about?" I shout with total shock. "You said you were bringing something!"
He leaves the truck and workers behind and moves toward me confidently. God, why does he look so good? In a black t-shirt and faded jeans that fall from his waist he looks . . . delicious.
"Exactly. I said I was bringing something," he says smugly as he stops in front of me, his sheer size making me feel tiny. "Well, I brought something."
"You brought a truck, and your workers are unloading tables in front of my house." I call him out on his understatement.
"And balloons." He motions his head toward the truck, just as the people unload a huge balloon bridge in shades of light blue and white.
"Colin," my pulse accelerates to maximum speed, "what did you do?"
"Welcome to Arendell." The smile on his face widens and then expands further and further until his eyes smile too.
My hand leaps to my mouth. I'm going to cry. I look at him, and he looks at me and he is not frightened by my reaction.
"Who needs Max when we have Elsa, right?" He reaches out and gently takes my hand down. "Breathe, Elizabeth, we have a long day ahead of us."
"You didn't…" I can't get a whole sentence out.
"I didn't, we did." He reaches my cheek, stroking it. "We're a team, Lizzie, you and I. Where do you want the refreshments?"
"I haven't baked yet," I mutter in amazement. "I haven't bought anything."
"It doesn't work that way, darlin’." The word he chooses causes my cheeks to burn and memories to overwhelm me. "The refreshments will arrive at three, and by that time a kingdom will be established in your back yard. You just have to stand aside and watch it happen."
"You didn't," my eyes gleam, "really, you didn't have to . . ."
"Elizabeth," he doesn't let go of my face, "where do you want the tables?"
"In the back." I'll surely cry before this day is over. There is a great chance that for the first time in a very long time these will be tears of joy.
"Let the good people work." He leans over slowly, his lips meeting my forehead. He lingers with his kiss and holds it another second, another moment, another breath.
"Thank you," I whisper.
"Don't you dare," he whispers back, "don't you dare thank me. You're the one who raised her, it was all you."
My house is a headquarters, or so it feels, as the hours pass and my back yard turns into an ornate kingdom. If I thought the balloons were lovely, it was only because I had no idea what else was coming. The maps on the tables and snowflake shaped cartons that are hanging from the trees make the place look magical, and when the refreshments arrive at exactly three o'clock, my tear bag opens.
"Vivian will faint," I wipe my cheeks and Colin laughs at me. "You know she will."
"Did you see the cake?"
"Yes." How could anyone miss it? It's three stories high, and Viv's name is on it in curly letters. The slushy machine stirs a blue drink, and he even brought a cotton candy machine, fancy cupcakes, and tons of candies and marshmallows . . . She will faint, no doubt.
"I have to go get her," I wipe another tear.
"It's been taken care of, your mom is on her way."
"You invited my mom?" My jaw drops.
"Of course. Excuse me if your father's invitation was lost in the mail." I didn't think he'd invite him, nor do I want him here, Vivian's grandfather or not.
"Colin!" A high female voice makes my gaze turn toward the house. In the doorway stands a slim girl wearing a blonde wig and a perfect Elsa dress, waving royally at us.
She's not waving at you. She's waving at him.
"Anna!" Colin calls in a hearty voice.
"It's Elsa," I strain, my nerves pressing as she steps toward us.
"Actually, it's Anna," he laughs again. "Come and meet Liz."
No, don't come. We don't need to know each other.
"Hey, Anna Rodriguez." I shake her hand formally and smile as if I'm one of the children she needs to entertain. "Colin and I have known each other for years."
Where and when did you get to know each other, and what did you do together?
"Anna lived in LA at the time I was living there," he explains, as if his words can relieve the pressure in my chest.
"Nice," I reply laconically.
"She has a birthday party company."
"I see."
Tell me, Colin, did you sleep with her?
I shut my mouth before the question slips out. After all, he didn't abstain. He said he had other girls, so maybe she was one of them?
"Oh. My. God!" The shriek from the edge of the yard makes us all jump. "That's . . . that's . . ."
Vivian stands beside my mom and stares at Anna.
"The birthday girl," Colin gathers himself first. "Come here!"
She runs straight into his arms and he lifts her into the air. "You're so big!"
"My surprise!" She doesn't calm down. "That's my surprise, right?"
"Absolutely." He hugs her warmly. "Happy birthday sweetie."
"I love you Daddy!" Her little arms surround him with difficulty.
"Thank your Mom, it's her surprise too," he says with confidence, even though we both know I didn't do anything.
"You're awesome!" She roars at me. At least I'm not mean anymore.
"I think your birthday gift would be perfect right about now." I hold my arms out and take her from Colin. "Your friends will be arriving soon, and we have to prepare."
We leave Colin by his Elsa's side and go into the house to put on the dress I bought, arrange Viv's hair, and wear festive shoes for the grandiose event that awaits us.
My back yard is crowded. The bustle is great but I quickly realize the magical kingdom that Colin established is a magnet for moms who refuse to leave their children and go home.
Who am I kidding? We all know that it's not due to the snowflakes hanging from the trees, but to the guy who twirls his daughter around, his chest puffed with pride and his muscular arms beautifully tattooed, spreading smiles that make us all drool.
He always looked good. I know it, he knows it and every girl who's been chasing him since we were fifteen knows it, but this body he came back with takes the hormonal state of every woman within a hundred yards to new heights.
And by God they are hormonal. Giggling, waving their hair and batting their eyelashes at him. Pathetic. So what if he looks like that? So what if he produced all of this in a few hours and brought the Elsa who's dancing with the children to karaoke? He had to make up for the last few years.
"Great party," my mom comes up behind me just as I toss another pile of blue disposable glasses from the table to the bin.
"Yes," I grumble, "nice party." This party is something that will be talked about for a very long time, and it is far from being nice. It's perfect.
"It's time you took her out of your bedroom." She stands in my way and interrupts with my cleaning and rearranging.
"And put her where exactly?" I snort.
"We’ll figure that out."
"You know it's not that simple."
"Get the girl out of your bedroom and put her father back in there." Her determination makes my blood start to bubble.
"We're not having this discussion." The place is full of people and her timing is lousy. "It's not going to happen."
"So get used to seeing that happen more often." She turns my attention with a small movement of her head, and there he stands, laughter rolling from his mouth, as Lena, the newly divorced mom from daycare, puts her hand on his shoulder. She's all I'm not—well groomed, tall, thin and shapely. "How long do you think he'll wait for you, how long before someone puts her hands on him?"
He smiles at Lena. He laughs at something she said. I push the glasses into my mom's hands aggressively and move toward him with firm steps. Lena drops her hand from his shoulder, takes a few steps back and moves away. Maybe she saw me and realized she should not be there.
"Liar," I strain with clenched teeth, my eyes burning.
"Liz," he tries to reassure me softly, but I've already passed the point of no return.
"You're such a liar." The insult takes hold of my breath, of every word that comes out of my mouth. He grabs my arm and pulls me aside to the corner of the yard, allowing us a little more privacy.
"What's the story, Colin?" I put my hands together in a protective gesture, "I'm not skinny enough, not pretty enough, do you want someone who wears red nail polish, red lipstick and tight clothes?"
"I want you, woman." He stares at me hard, his words undermining my confidence. "Do you hear what I'm telling you? I want you to leave our daughter with your mother so I can show you how little I care about your nail polish. As for the tight clothes," he leans forward and puts his mouth to my ear, making my cheeks redden, "I prefer the kind I can rip off you easily." He straightens up, just to meet the bewildered look on my face. He doesn't hide his intentions and certainly doesn't want just another kiss. His whispering in my ear did the trick and caused my pulse to accelerate and my breathing to become irregular.
"So why are you going out with Lauren?" I manage to maintain some dignity.
"Why did you go out with the doctor?" He tilts his head. "Were you trying to make me jealous?"
"Are you so full of yourself you think the only reason I went out with him, is so you'd envy him?"
"Yes," he answers in a steady tone. God, he is arrogant!
"Then let me be clear, I went out with him because he asked me."
"I'm asking you too." He doesn't stop.
"Don't be ridiculous."
"I'm ridiculous?" He narrows his eyes, much less smug and pleased with himself. "You wait more than five years, and then decided to go out with someone just when I get back?"
"Amazing coincidence," I shrug, "don't you think?"
"Stop playing games," his nostrils flare up. "We both know you're not into the doctor."
"Is that so?" I continue. If he’s going to make me jealous, I can make him too.
"You want me." He rises to his full height and joins hands on his chest.
"Jesus Christ," I laugh in his face, "do you hear yourself?"
"I'll be at your house tomorrow at eight. Arrange a babysitter and wear something comfortable."
Our eyes lock, the battle is far from over. My heart is about to burst out of my chest and bleed on the grass until it stops beating.
"I'm not going out with you," I answer decisively.
"Tomorrow, eight o'clock, babysitter, something comfortable to wear." He's delirious!
"What will Lauren think about that?" I tease.
"Jealous?"
"If I were her, I would be offended to find out that you are asking someone else out, while you and her—"
"For God's sake, Liz," he exhales, "where's your head?"
"Don't insult me!"
"Where's your head?" He gets annoyed. "Do you really think I'm going out with Lauren?"
What? You piece of shit liar. He’s not dating Lauren? All this was just to annoy me? He knew it would work. He knew I'd go crazy thinking about him with someone else, and he chose Lauren, of all the women in the world. He knew that thinking about him with the captain of the cheerleading squad would drive me insane.
"Are you kidding me?" I don't know whether to rage or start jumping with joy. Both responses sound equally logical. He plays with me and my feelings and throws them from one end to the other without a drop of effort.
"What am I supposed to do with her?" He rolls his eyes.
"I can come up with a number of things you and her can do."
"None of them will include intelligent conversation." His gaze settles straight into my eyes. "I know who I want and she is standing in front of me, fighting me over a date she's dying to go out on. I know I screwed up, okay, I know I screwed you and your life and my life too, but I love you. I've loved you for nine years now, I can't stop and I don't want to."
The world is getting smaller, closing in on me, and for a moment his words make the party and the hustle disappear, and all I hear is my wildly beating heart.
"I don't know how to stop being mad at you," I almost whisper.
"I understand that. I also know that maybe, under this hatred, you still love me, even if just a little. But you will never find out if you don't lay your anger aside for a few moments and peek in. If you don't dare, all you'll be left with is bitterness. Is that the life you want? "
"The life I want, you took away," my voice cracks.
"I'm offering it back." The light in his eyes floods me with memories. This is how he looked at me once, when we were still happy.
"It's easy to talk." I'm struggling with all my strength against the will to cry. Almost ready to scream at him and beat his chest with my fists until my power drains. I want to burst in tears and curse him for the hell I've been through, for the white dress I burned in my mom's yard, for the shame and guilt.
"I'm not talking, Liz, I'm doing," he sees the storm in my eyes, "and I'll continue to do so, because I've been taught to fight for whats important. I've been taught that failure is out of the question. Tomorrow at eight."
"No," I whisper without taking my eyes off him.
"Comfortable clothes and a babysitter."
"You never listen." What is it with him?
"Tomorrow at eight."
"Colin," I try to make my voice steady.
"I think it's time to cut the cake," he cuts me off, before I can make it clear that he is wasting his time. "I'll get a knife." He turns his back on me, ignoring my refusal and moving away toward the house, without letting me say the last word.
"What was that?" Colin's conversation with me didn't go unnoticed by my nosy mom.
"He's not normal, I swear, he's lost it completely." I still stand frozen in the same place, my legs planted.
"What did he do now?" She doesn't get excited.
"He thinks we're going out."
"When?"
"Tomorrow," I exhale obnoxiously, "and he wants me to get a babysitter. I have no idea what he's up to."
"So what time should I pick up Viv?" She interrupts me with her unnecessary offer.
"Mom!" I scold her, as I've been doing for weeks.
"And do yourself a favor," she continues in spite of my protests, "shave. God only knows what your legs look like after all this time." She's almost as insane as he is.
"He's not coming anywhere near my legs!" What does she think? How do these ideas get into this woman's head?
"Sure, sure." She responds nonchalantly. "Not coming near your legs . . . Shave!"
"Mom." My voice is shaking like a leaf barely hanging on the branch of the tree, as if any tiny breeze will tear it away.
"I know," she manages to sound a little more empathetic to my situation, "you're afraid. You don't want to take a risk, he hurt you. But I'm telling you that the moment has come, and if you don't decide now, he'll move on and you'll regret it for the rest of your life."
"You're all joined against me," I breathe in frustration.
"You're welcome to take Dad's side," she says, proving me wrong. "He'll be very happy, but you'll be miserable, and let me tell you something, your father is not very happy at the moment, at the hotel."
"Are you really not going to forgive him?" My voice trembles at the idea that my parents' marriage is over.
"It's too early to think about it," she answers in a steady tone. She’s trying so hard to hide from me how painful it was to part. "He crossed the line and thought he could run your life."
"Like you do?"
"I'm just advising you, and if you're smart, you'll listen to me and my experience and you'll shave."
Maybe I shouldn't shave. If my legs remain in their unimpressive condition, there is a chance that I won't let Colin come near.
"Go out with him." She puts her hand on my forearm. "Listen to him and look him in the eyes, the truth will be there. Your past and the pain caused don't have to destroy what can be."
Our conversation is interrupted by the birthday girl's glee, and all eyes turn to her and to her father who hoists her in the air like an astromaunt, like a princess, like a fairy tale with a 'happily ever after'. She is radiant, and the life she deserves is within reach. I'm the only one standing between her and the normal, perfect family she can have. I'm the one standing with her feet planted on the ground in the middle of a five-year-old’s birthday party, my cheeks wet with tears.