Lauren

Lubbock, Texas 2009

 

 

“You doing okay today?” Dr. Mulloy peaked around the corner into my small office. Small was a bit of an understatement. There was a desk, filing cabinet, and chair—that was it. To get to my desk, I damn near had to turn my body sideways and squeeze in.

I closed the book in front of me. “Yes, just reconciling the credit card statement from last month.”

“Lauren, you know that I need you on top of things. If you’re already a month behind, then you may need to stay late to catch up. We wouldn’t want anything slipping through the cracks.”

I resisted the urge to scream. The clock read eight sixteen; this had to be a new record for her. “Well, I can only reconcile the previous month right now. So, I guess you could say we’re all caught up.”

She gave me a sympathetic smile as if I was a clueless child. “Lauren, I hired you because you seemed like someone who would keep my practice running smoothly. If that’s not the case anymore, then you need to make me aware of that. Okay?”

It had been like this for the last two years. I could tell her that the sky was blue and she’d sniff in a deprecating way before asking me to stay late and fix it.

I pasted a smile on my face. “It’ll be taken care of; you have nothing to worry about.”

Dr. Mulloy reminded me of Samantha Jones from Sex & the City. I only watched the re-runs when they aired on TBS in college, but I felt that I had a pretty good understanding of the show, however edited it may have been. She was gorgeous and blonde; and probably the only person who could tell you off with a smile on her face. She wore designer blouses and heels in a business where there was a good chance they’d end up covered in some bodily fluid before the day was up.

When I initially met her, I’d thought she was working the front desk—the pretty face hired to make the company look good, but no—the company was all hers. The woman oozed sexuality, yet somehow kept it completely hidden from patients. Sure, the occasional dad would show up to an appointment and try to convince her to go to dinner, but she would respectfully turn them down.

If it had ended there, I might never have seen the resemblance. It didn’t though—she’d show up every Monday morning, complaining about how little she’d slept during the weekend or how sore she was, thanks to whoever the flavor of the week was. It had made me uncomfortable at first; I kept expecting HR to intervene, before remembering that I was HR and all that would result in would be me losing my job. These men never seemed to last longer than a week. There’d be the obligatory bouquet of roses that would be delivered to the office and that was the last I’d ever hear about them.

She gave me an absent smile before disappearing again. Two years in and I got the impression that she only popped in for these little visits in the hopes of busting me doing something wrong. However, there was more than enough work to keep me busy for the next ten years. Both real and imaginary.

How’d a nice girl like me end up in Texas?

Well, it was a funny story. After Monica made off with my graduation gifts and several of Josué’s things, I’d been prepared to bail. I hadn’t expected that he’d let me continue to stay there—like mother, like daughter, right?

I’d waited until he fell asleep before grabbing a couple of pairs of underwear and a toothbrush—the only items I felt comfortable taking. I’d just made it to the front door when his voice stopped me.

He sat up on the couch and turned on the lamp. “I had a funny feeling that if I slept out on the couch, things might get interesting around here.”

I’d stammered out an apology before offering him my twisted logic on why it was better for me to go. Instead of agreeing, he’d laughed at me. Then he said something that had stuck with me since.

“Mija, do you really think that anything she does reflects on you? I watched her try to order your food tonight. Simple, right? Except she didn’t tell them to hold the onions—you hate onions. I had to make sure they knew that. How can someone who brought you into this world know next to nothing about you?”

It was true. He knew more about me than my own mother, because he had taken the time and shown an interest.

Josué continued, “You might be able to walk out that door and make it on your own, but you shouldn’t have to make that choice. You need me, just as much as I need you.”

At that, my walls had come down and I came clean on my side project. Instead of being upset, he wanted to see who I’d picked out for him.

And that’s how Isaac came into our lives. He and Josué messaged each other through the website initially, but before long there were video chats and phone calls throughout the day. They met three months later and that was it—Isaac was part of our family. We flew to Boston in June of 2005 because Josué wanted to see his favorite baseball team play. After the Red Sox swept the Reds, Isaac got down on one knee and asked Josué to marry him. Massachusetts had legalized same-sex marriage, so the three of us went down to the courthouse the next day.

Since Isaac ran his own company down in Texas, Josué and I decided it would be easier for us to move to him. I’d just wrapped up my first official year in college. Thanks to all the dual credit courses I’d taken throughout high school, I enrolled as a sophomore.

Isaac helped me get enrolled at Texas Tech, while Josué took a counseling job at one of the local high schools near Austin. We might’ve been six hours apart, but moving had taken a weight off my shoulders that I hadn’t even realized was there. Before, I was constantly on alert for Monica to make a reappearance. We’d searched every pawn shop in town, but never found the stuff she stole from us. She’d never think to look for me outside of Colorado—it was freeing.

My desk phone buzzed. “Lauren, your interview is here.”

I sighed, while contemplating banging my head against the desk. I needed a front desk coordinator…badly. If I thought her reaction to reconciling the credit card statements was bad, I couldn’t imagine how Dr. Mulloy would react to finding out that I still hadn’t filled that position.

My current girl would be going back to college and the spring semester started next week…so, I was on a bit of a time crunch.

I smoothed my hair back and took a deep breath. Interviews stressed me out—I had to uphold my image as office manager, while making sure to include Dr. Mulloy’s expectations. It made it difficult to get any of the potential employees to let down their guard and open up to me.

I hadn’t exactly made friends in the workplace. Initially, I’d gotten close to a couple of the girls, but Doc hadn’t liked that. “Honey, I brought you on as an office manager—it’s going to be hard to manage an office if you’re friends with everyone.”

I didn’t fault her for it. And I desperately needed the paycheck, so I complied. I’d wanted to prove to Isaac and Josué that I could stand on my own two feet. I needed them to know that investing in me had been worth it.

With a small nod, I left my office with confidence. Danielle, one of the dental assistants, met me at the front desk and pointed the interviewee out. “She’s in the consult room. Seems quiet, but her résumé shows consistency. I think she could be a good fit. You’re the boss though.”

I nodded and took the paperwork from her hand. “I can take it from here.”

I was the boss.

The bitch.

The boss bitch.

I wasn’t here to make friends.

Somehow, my little pep talk didn’t leave me feeling particularly good about myself.

The woman sat on the thick red upholstered chair—I’d tried talking Dr. Mulloy out of decorating with red furniture as it too closely resembled blood, yet here we were with an office full of bleeding red chairs. She kept obsessively tucking her hair behind her ear as she looked around the small room.

“Hello, I’m Lauren Santiago.” So, maybe I hadn’t legally changed my name, but since I was nineteen, I’d unofficially gone by Santiago. All of my social media accounts, including the dental office’s website, reflected that. I knew that if Monica ever sobered up, she’d easily be able to find me. Josué’s last name had given me a sense of security.

I extended my hand and the woman gave me a firm shake in return.

“Elizabeth Turner. This place is great—if I was still a kid, I don’t think I’d ever want to leave!”

I beamed. “Thank you.”

Dr. Mulloy and I had spent many late nights redesigning the office and, while I didn’t agree with her color choices, everything else was perfection.

Elizabeth and I got to know each other over the next thirty minutes. She’d grown up in the area and had been working at one of the local supermarkets while she finished college. If I thought she looked good on paper, sitting down with her only reinforced that.

She was smart, funny, and had a lot of great ideas for expanding our marketing within the community. I kept my fingers crossed under the table as she won me over; praying that she was the hire that would solidify my role as office manager. Dr. Mulloy needed to know that I was invested in the future of the practice.

 

 

“Well, well. Seems like someone deserves a bottle of champagne for all her hard work today.” Dr. Mulloy popped up beside me just as I was locking up my office for the night and I jumped.

I swear that woman needed a bell around her neck.

I nodded and swung my purse up onto my shoulder. “Yeah, you’re gonna love Elizabeth. She’s smart and has a lot of enthusiasm, which is perfect since we’re surrounded by children all day.”

She nodded and walked with me to the back door. “Honey, I hired the best so that, in turn, she could hire the best. I’m proud of you, Lauren.”

Dr. Mulloy held her key fob up to the panel until it beeped, unlocking the back door. She held it open for me with her hip and I walked out, still in shock from her compliments. At first, I was certain that the evening sun was playing tricks on my eyes, but when I blinked, the person was still standing on the sidewalk near both of our vehicles.

Monica.

In my addled state, I tried telling myself that it was pure coincidence, but deep down I knew better. There was no reason for her to be in Texas. No reason, but me.

“Hey, Doc. Why don’t you head on home? I’ll see if I can help this woman.”

I knew I had to act quickly before Monica introduced herself and cost me my job. While she looked much healthier than the last time I’d seen her, there was still a roughness there. Her teeth were blackened with decay from years of meth use and her once beautiful blonde hair was matted and thinning in areas.

Dr. Mulloy eyed her skeptically and whispered, “I think we might want to call the cops to help her out. She’s filthy and probably carrying a weapon. How did she get all the way over into this part of town?”

Wow.

She really thought that homeless people only congregated in one area. It was simply another reminder that she was painfully out of touch with the real world. I bet if she knew half the stuff I’d encountered while living with Monica, she’d try to have my apartment moved to the ‘other side of town.’

I patted her arm reassuringly before all but pushing her into the tiny sports car she adored. “I got this. File it under office manager duties. See you tomorrow!”

She agreed, but gave me a confused stare as she backed out of her parking spot and drove away.

I exhaled slowly.

One down, one to go.

“What can I do for you, Monica?” If it was money she wanted, she’d come to the wrong place. My paycheck had only lasted until rent was due.

She wrapped her arms around herself to ward off the slight chill in the air. It wasn’t really cold, but she needed more than the lightweight t-shirt she had on. “Hey, pumpkin. You’re looking good—got yourself a job and everything.”

I pursed my lips. “How’d you find me?”

I’d been so careful…at least I thought.

Monica pointed to the building. “You’re on the Facebook—I just searched your old email address and up popped this picture of my little girl. I saw the new last name and just knew that you’d done it. You married the old guy. Congrats!”

She’d said it all so earnestly that I found myself biting my cheek to keep from laughing at the absurdity of her reasoning, while simultaneously kicking myself for getting roped into managing the social media accounts for the office. I’d known that it was risky, hadn’t I? But I somehow convinced myself that the last name was enough.

Why hadn’t I used my work email to sign up for a Facebook account?

How was it that Monica could remember the email address I got in high school when she couldn’t even remember to keep me fed growing up?

I scanned the deserted parking lot, searching for something to say. She’d stolen from me—from us—the last time I saw her. She’d used us to satisfy her addiction. We were nothing more than a means to an end.

I held my chin high and faced her again. “The last time I saw you I ended up losing my graduation gifts. What makes you think that I would want to see you again, Monica?”

She stared down at the ground, completely silent.

I continued, “You left me in that run-down duplex, while you went off and got high. If it hadn’t been for Josué’s suspicion that all was not well at home, I’d have been raped—if not worse. He took me in and how did you repay him? By stealing. How can you live with yourself?”

With a slight tremble, she reached out to me before reconsidering and pulling her hands back. “I know I hurt you…repeatedly. I was low back then and the drugs consumed my every waking thought. I found a good rehab center in Denver and checked myself in. Part of my recovery is me making amends for the wrongs I’ve caused. That’s why I’m here, Lauren. I don’t want anything from you.”

She held her hand out again and opened it just enough for the silver chain to slip through. I gasped in shock. It was my necklace.

“How did you—” I instinctively reached out and took it from her hand.

She cut me off mid-sentence. “It’s not important how I got it back. I’m so sorry I hurt you, baby. I just want to make it up to you, and I know that a necklace can’t fix everything, but maybe it’s a start?”

I clenched my hand around the necklace until the charms dug into my palm. Monica had caught me completely off guard and I struggled to find the right words. “I—you really don’t want anything? You came all this way—the necklace. I just—” I paused and tried to form one coherent thought.

Monica smiled and my heart splintered at the sight of her rotting teeth. She was sober and trying to make amends, while looking like she was homeless. Maybe she just needed someone to help get her cleaned up and presentable so she could find work.

Nope.

I couldn’t let myself get sucked into her drama again. I just needed my brain to convince my heart of that.

“Lauren, you don’t owe me a thing. Just take care of you, okay?” Monica rubbed her arms and hopped up and down to warm herself. I’d gone numb the minute she’d given me the necklace and couldn’t tell you if it was cold or not.

Guilt wormed its way into my brain.

I didn’t have to help her, but maybe I could get her a warm meal and some appropriate clothing. This was Mom of the Year Monica, not Addict Monica. That had to count for something, right?

She wasn’t going to stay in my apartment—that had been my mistake the last time. I’d just get her a hot meal and maybe a jacket.

“Monica, do you have a place to stay tonight?” Damn. I’d meant to ask her something else. Something safer.

She shook her head. “Not really, but that’s nothing to worry yourself about. I’ll figure something out.”

I scratched at an invisible itch on my neck. If I left her out here, was it really the worst thing ever? I’d still sleep soundly; warm in my apartment, while she slowly froze to death on a Citibus bench downtown.

My phone chirped and I pulled it out of my purse to see a weather alert text.

“First Alert Weather: Patchy freezing drizzle may fall over the western and southern viewing area late tonight and into Friday morning. This may cause icy spots for the Friday morning commute. The South Plains could see some light glazing from drizzle Friday morning.”

I puffed my cheeks out and exhaled forcefully. It looked like the decision had been made for me, but my stomach was still in knots. I held up my hand. “Can you just give me a minute? I need to make a quick phone call.”

Monica smiled. “Lauren, you do whatever you need to do. I’m just going to find somewhere to hunker down for the night. You go on.”

I suppressed a groan and walked a few feet away before dialing Josué’s number. “Please pick up…please pick up,” I muttered to myself as it rang.

“Bueno, mija,” He sang into the phone.

“Josué, I’ve got a teensy bit of a problem…” I trailed off as Monica made her way over to the dumpster at the far edge of the parking lot.

“What happened? Where are you? Do you need money?”

I sighed. “Um, Monica found me. And she got my necklace back, so…” I made a small gulping sound before dissolving into tears. It was stupid. I chalked it up to hormones. I was about to get my period and that always made me emotional.

Josué began cursing rapidly in Spanish on the other end of the line. I heard Isaac ask what was wrong before he responded curtly, “Está llorando— the bitch found her. LoLo, call the police. Tell them what she’s done—”

“But it’s supposed to freeze tonight. I can’t just leave her out here,” I argued.

He growled, “Mija, you can leave that bitch out in the cold. I don’t give a flying fuck if there’s a blizzard tonight and she gets buried in six feet of snow.”

Isaac mumbled something in the background before Josué handed him the phone. “Hey Lauren, what’s going on? Josué is completely worked up and not making any sense. Are you okay? Do you need us to come to you?”

I wiped away the tears on my cheeks. “I just—Monica’s here. She, um, she came to make amends. She got my necklace back—I don’t know, Isaac. I can’t just leave her here, but at the same time, she can’t stay with me. What do I do?”

He was silent for a minute and I worried that he might’ve hung up. Isaac knew a little about Monica, but Josué and I had kept most of the details quiet. She just brought a certain amount of drama with her.

“Hang on, Lauren. I’m just stepping into my office.” There was a soft click as the door closed behind him and then he was back. “Okay, I’m just going to see if there’s a shelter near you that you could take her to for the night. That way you know she’s being helped, but you don’t get caught up in whatever she’s got going on. Sound good?”

I sniffled and tried to pull myself together. I was a grown woman, I should’ve been able to handle this on my own without having to reach out to Josué and Isaac. But Monica had a way of swooping in and turning my life upside down.

Isaac gave me an address and offered to come meet me, but I told him I could manage. “You’ve both done enough, Isaac. Is Josué gonna be okay?”

Isaac chuckled softly. “He’s under strict orders to fix himself a strong drink and settle in on the couch while we sort this out. You know how he gets when it comes to you.”

For the second time that night, guilt seeped through my every pore. I had to handle this like an adult.

I was going to drop Monica at the shelter and everything would go back to normal.

My life would be perfect once again. I opened the car door and called out, “Let’s go, Monica.”

She looked up in surprise before making her way back over to me. “Lauren, you don’t need to take me anywhere. I’ll be just fine.”

I blinked away the last of my tears and pointed at my car. “Get in. It’s going to freeze tonight—you can’t stay out here. There’s a shelter downtown…it’s the best I can offer you.”

I expected her to argue with me or at least, push me to take her to my apartment. She just smiled and climbed into the passenger seat though, surprising me yet again.

Her stomach grumbled loudly, so I turned the heat up higher, trying to drown it out. When that didn’t work, I cranked up the radio. Of course, there was a commercial playing for one of the local Mexican food restaurants.

Food wasn’t part of the deal.

This was quickly reminding me of a book one of my elementary teachers read to my class— If You Give a Mouse a Cookie.

If you gave Monica a ride to the shelter, she was going to expect snacks to go with that.

If you gave Monica some snacks, then she would insist upon going back to your warm apartment.

If Monica ended up back at your apartment, then you could reasonably expect half of your things to be missing by the next morning.

“Fine!” I yelled and she jumped in fear, “We’ll stop at a truck stop and get you some food, but you are not staying at my house. Are we clear on that?”

Monica’s eyes were squeezed shut and she clutched her chest. “Jesus, Lauren. Were you trying to give me a heart attack? You can just drop me at the shelter if it’s that much of an inconvenience. I’m sure they have food there.”

She was right…probably. And I had just shouted at her for no reason. Well, not completely without reason—she had stolen from me the last time I saw her.

Her stomach growled again and I knew that I was going to have to feed her if I wanted to go to bed tonight with a clear conscience. “Hey, I’m sorry. Let’s grab some dinner and then I’ll drop you off, okay?”

She kept her face turned toward the window, but didn’t answer me. I kind of wished that I’d been born a man at this point; where it’d have been easier to turn my emotions on and off. Instead, I’d gotten pulled right back in the minute she’d shown up at work.

I should’ve been focused on how well Elizabeth was going to pick up training come Monday or concerned about why Brandon, the guy who took me to the movies last weekend, hadn’t returned my calls. Those were things worth obsessing over, but my heart was a traitor and easily led into emotional warfare where Monica was concerned.

There was no use worrying over the Elizabeth situation until Monday. Now, Brandon? Well that was strange. Dr. Mulloy had set us up; apparently, he was in her spin class and she thought we’d be ‘just darling together.’ The night had been fun, but by the time the movie ended, I was starting to feel like he was testing me. So, when he asked me to go back to his place, I declined.

When I’d driven myself home later, I felt like I’d passed the test, but was second-guessing myself when the end of the weekend rolled around and my phone stayed silent. I’d called him up and left a casual message, inviting him to grab dinner with me this weekend. Even Dr. Mulloy had seemed surprised that he hadn’t called me back.

“Lauren? Was that the truck stop you were wanting to stop at? You just passed the exit.” She pointed at the glowing lights as we blew by them and I felt like screaming.

C’mon, Lauren. Focus.

I took the next exit and made a U-turn, eventually getting us to The Iron Skillet. The neon sign flickered, reminding me of those flashing Christmas lights that people seemed to be so fond of putting up on their houses. It was clear they’d aimed for exquisite, but landed at gaudy.

“So, they’ve got really good breakfast. Eggs, bacon—you name it.” There was no one working the hostess stand, so we sat ourselves near the back. I hadn’t been back here since my college days. My roommate and I found that all-night study sessions made us hungry, so we’d grab our books and hit the Skillet. Along with weary truckers, you could also find the college drunks, fresh from whatever nearby club they’d shut down.

Life had been simpler then. The only man I was worried about was Josué and that was just because I wanted to make him proud. Overnight, that list had grown to include people that I wasn’t sure I’d even like were it not for the fact that they signed my paycheck every other week.

“You’re nervous, I can tell,” Monica observed over her cup of coffee. “You ramble and then shut down.”

I added cream and sugar to my coffee until it was almost white before answering, “I wouldn’t say nervous, but there is definitely a certain level of anxiety that goes along with me being close to you. I mean, the last time I saw you, things didn’t exactly turn out well.”

She took a sip of straight black coffee and nodded. “I can’t say that I blame you and I’m glad we’re getting a chance to talk. For the longest time, my addiction was everything. If I didn’t have the drugs, I was thinking of ways to get them. It didn’t matter to me if someone got hurt by my actions as long as I got high. I didn’t see that until I got clean.”

The waitress came back with a large tray of food. Monica had ordered the smothered burrito with a side of fries, while I’d gone with sausage, scrambled eggs, and a large stack of pancakes. I took a big bite of sausage and talked around it. “So, you got clean? Just like that?”

She paused with her fork midair. “Well, not just like that. I went to a meeting with a friend and I think I ended up getting more out of it than he did. You know, I hadn’t prayed the entire time I was fighting my battle. I just didn’t see the point. When they talked about how important prayer was, it really stuck with me. I guess it’s human nature to try and do it all on our own.”

I talked through a full mouth of food again, having completely given up on manners. “So, you just prayed your way out of addiction? Doesn’t that seem—I don’t know, a little strange?”

It was more than strange. It was borderline infuriating. The cure to her madness was Jesus? I could’ve had a normal upbringing if only we’d recited the Lord’s Prayer enough times.

Monica laughed, as if the entire thing were one big joke, and maybe it was. To her. “Oh, Lauren. You know the Father works in mysterious ways. It seemed too simple for me too…at first. Over time though, I noticed my addiction shifted away from drugs. I became addicted to God and the high that he gives, doesn’t fade away.”

I choked on the egg that was in my mouth and tried to wash it down with coffee while she continued rambling. When she paused to take a breath, I cut in, “That’s why you’re here now. Making amends is not just part of your twelve steps, but it’s part of being a Christian too, right?”

She gave me a smug smile and I struggled to recall the point where the conversation had shifted over in religion. “Lauren, I don’t prefer the term ‘Christian.’ It’s overused. I’m a Jesus addict, plain and simple. And I’m here for much more than just making amends. God sent me to save your soul. He knows that you’ve been struggling and after seeing you, I agree. You’ve bowed down to a false idol.”

I looked down into my almost empty coffee mug, half expecting to see a bottle of Jim Beam nestled down inside. Somewhere in the last hour, Monica had gone from down-on-her-luck recovering addict to friggin’ Joel Osteen and I was really struggling to keep up. “I’m sorry?” I managed to croak out and the patient smile reappeared on her face.

“You’ve made money your god and now your every waking thought is dominated by how to keep what you have or how to make more of it. I’m right, aren’t I?”

She was right, but the same could be said for over half the twenty-somethings in the world. I should’ve been outraged; my own mother thought I needed saving. Monica, the woman whose first love had been cocaine, with meth coming in a close second, was worried about how I was living my life. Where did I even begin to point out the flaws in her argument?

I stood up. “I’m just going to run to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

She gave me a puzzled look and went back to her plate of food.

Instead of actually going to the bathroom, I spent the next ten minutes pacing in front of the mirror, trying to come up with a rebuttal. My body was hot with indignation. How dare she worry about how I was choosing to live my life? I wasn’t a single parent and I had a steady job—most parents would be thrilled.

She should’ve been proud. I managed to get this far in spite of my circumstances. Circumstances she caused. I put up with a lot at my job so that I’d never have to worry where rent money was going to come from. I was very choosy about the men I went on dates with because I never wanted to end up parenting a child all alone. But she wasn’t proud—she was concerned that I wasn’t—what? Attending church? Giving all my money to the homeless?

What the fuck did she want from me?

I grabbed my purse from the edge of the sink and marched out. I was going to just come right out and ask her. And then, when she spouted off whatever spiritual BS they’d been feeding her, I’d tell her to fuck off and walk out of here with my head held high.

The booth was empty when I got back, but I forced myself to sit and get my thoughts in order. When she got back, she was going to get an earful. Maybe then, she’d think twice the next time she decided to judge someone.

It took me a good five minutes before I realized that I would’ve passed her if she’d gone to the bathroom and another ten before I realized that she wasn’t outside smoking.

The waitress asked if I wanted more coffee before dropping the check and I mumbled, “No,” as I continually scanned the restaurant for her face. When I reached into my purse for my wallet to pay our bill, I discovered that my car keys were missing. I jumped up, but I knew before I even hit the parking lot. Monica and my car were long gone.