Dirty Red

Page 51

Then she did the most dumbfounding thing. She set her glass down, her wrist wobbling like it couldn’t handle the weight of the dainty glass. Then she tucked her chin to her chest and left.

I took a breath — a deep, satisfying breath — and went back to Caleb’s side.

Mine. He was mine. That was that.

Chapter Thirty-One

Present

I rock back and forth after I get off the phone with Caleb. What is wrong with me? How did I worship the ground my father walked on after all those years of neglect? It was pathetic. I hate myself for it, and yet I know I’d do it all over again. And this baby — she is my only blood family and I do everything to stay away from her. She hasn’t done anything wrong. What type of person am I to isolate my own child?

How can chocolate covered raisins bring such clarity? It isn’t the chocolate covered raisins. I know that. It’s what Sam said to me, the part about me giving my loyalty to all the wrong people. The only person who really deserves it is the little girl I grew in my body. And yet, I can’t assemble the right feelings for her. I open my computer and search postpartum depression. I read through the symptoms, nodding. Yes, that has to be it. There's no way I am this bad of a person. I need to get on medication. There is something very wrong with me.

In the morning, Caleb brings my baby back. I clutch her to my chest and smell her head. He has her shock of red hair tied up in a little pink bow. I eye her gingham dress and give him a dirty look.

“Why are you dressing her like she’s Mary Poppins?” I say sourly. He deposits her diaper bag and car seat next to the door and starts to leave.

“Caleb!” I call after him. “Stay. Have some lunch with us.”

“I have somewhere to be, Leah.” He sees the disappointment on my face and says in a much gentler voice, “Maybe another day, yeah?”

I feel like someone has reached out and slapped me across the face. Not with his rejection of my lunch offer, but with that very simple “Yeah?” dripping off the end of his sentence. That yeah, is an acidic memory, burning painfully across my hippocampus. I think of Courtney and her summer in Europe. The way she came back, speaking as if she were born a Brit.

Wanna go to the mall tomorrow, yeah?

You have that shirt you borrowed from me, yeah?

You’re the worst sister in the world, yeah?

I am the worst sister in the world. Courtney, who always stuck up for me, always reminded my parents that I was alive … where is my loyalty to Courtney? I haven’t been to visit her once since…

I kick the door shut with my foot and carry Estella to her nursery. I take off the Mary Poppins dress. She gurgles and kicks her legs like she’s glad to be free of it. “Yeah,” I coo. “Let Daddy dress you in middle school and you might not have any friends.”

She smiles.

I start screaming Sam’s name. I hear his heavy footsteps as he charges up the stairs. “Wha—?” he says breathless. “Is she breathing?”

“She smiled!” I clap my hands.

He peers over my shoulder. “She’s been doing that.”

“Not at me,” I argue.

He looks at me as if I’ve grown another head. “Wow,” he says. “Wow. You grew a heart, and all it took was seven boxes of chocolate covered raisins.”

I flush. “How do you know about that?”

“Well, I took out the trash this morning, for one thing. And I’ve been finding them all over the floor.”

I’m quiet for a long time as I dress Estella in something more fashionable. It’s like dressing an octopus, all the limbs moving at the same time. I contemplate telling Sam that it was his words that shook me up a little, but decide not to. I tell him about Courtney instead. “Sam, I have a sister.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Great. So do I...”

“I’m having a serious moment here, Sam!” He motions for me to carry on.

I brush Estella’s hair. “I haven’t seen her in a very long time. She’s never even met Estella. Do you think that might have something to do with my…postpartum?” I test the word out, glancing at him sideways to see his reaction.

“I’m not a doctor.”

“Yet,” I say.

“Yet,” he smiles. “But, anything is possible. You are a pretty vile human being.”

I ignore him and brush Estella’s hair.

“So, take Estella and go see her,” he says, finally.

“Yeah,” I say. “Will you come with me?”

“I don’t see why — “

“Okay, great. Get your things. Also, I need you to make an OB/GYN appointment for me. I need drugs.”

“I’m not your secretary. We’ve had this discussion before.”

“See if you can get something for Tuesday.”

I walk out of the room.

“Leah,” he calls after me. “Your baby…”

“Oh, yeah.” I head back for Estella and pick her up.

She looks so cute. “We’re going to see your auntie,” I say.

We don’t go see Courtney. Cash calls. Normally, I don’t take her calls. Or her e-mails … or her Facebook messages. But since I am reforming my life, I pick up when her name flashes across my screen.

“What do you want, Cash?”

“Oh, you picked up!”

“Would you rather I not have?”

There is a pause. I assume she’s gathering all of her words together. God knows she’s been saving them up for two years.

“Leah, I’m so sorry,” she says. I hear her sniff and wonder if she’s crying.

“That’s a given,” I snap. “You are a liar.”

“I was just doing what he asked,” she says.

“Courtney is my sister,” I say firmly. “And I will do everything I can to protect her.”

“That’s what I wanted to speak to you about.”

I wrap my free arm around my waist. I suddenly feel very vulnerable. Why did this woman think she could talk to me about my sister?

“I’ve tried to see her. They won’t — “

“Stay away from Courtney,” I say. “She doesn’t want to see you.”

I hear Cash sob and feel a pang of pity. Maybe, I’m being too harsh. I wonder what Courtney would say to her.

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