Chapter 30
Vivian is frantically hopping around our bedroom as I zip up my bag with swimsuits, towels, and a change of clothes. She is happy, while I face a murky mood. If I'm lucky, Colin will let me stay dressed in the shorts I have chosen and the too-tight white undershirt and won't force me to cram myself into the bathing suit I bought especially for the ride. Viv picked herself a pink bikini, which didn't surprise me at all. For me, I bought a black one piece and fought my tears as I stood in front of the mirror. I haven’t seen Colin in the past three days, since he dropped me off at home and refused the invitation to come in.
We both knew what would have happened if he had gotten out of the car.
I fought the thoughts of him for hours. Lying in bed, imagining how it would feel when I slept beside him again, when he'd take off my clothes and kiss every inch of my skin.
"Mama, someone is honking!" Viv jumps up and runs to the door.
"Wait for me," I call after her, putting the bag on my shoulder and hurrying after her. She doesn't wait, opens the door and runs with her arms stretched to her father, who waves her in the air and kisses her cheek.
"I've missed you." He kisses her again.
"Are we really going to the beach?" She stares at him pleadingly.
"We're going to the beach. Do you want to fasten your seat belt?"
He takes her to the curb and opens the back door for her. Viv climbs into her seat, and Colin closes the door. A moment passes before he turns to me, his eyes burning.
"Hey," I greet him quietly, but his gaze wanders to my bare feet and climbs slowly up to my chest, peeking out of the white undershirt.
"It's going to be a long day," he says in a low voice.
"Behave," I turn to him.
"If you wanted me to behave, you should have worn something else."
"Colin," I warn in a sure voice.
"I can smell your perfume," he fills his lungs up with air, "it really is going to be a long day."
"Stop acting like a teenager," I roll my eyes, "and throw my bag in the back."
I take my bag off my shoulder and give it to Colin.
"Four hours in the car with my girls." The smile on his face expands to monstrous proportions.
"I hope you remembered to bring the disc Viv asked for." I walk past him, trying to ignore the smell of his aftershave, open the car door and climb into the passenger seat.
"The girl needs new musical education, Lizzie." He's holding the door. It seems he's still dealing with the fact that his daughter is sure she'll marry Justin Bieber.
"It could have been worse," I shake my head.
"I'm not sure I agree with you." He leans forward to take in the scent of my perfume. "But I will make great efforts to behave and not say anything about our future son in law."
"That would be nice of you." I put my hand on his chest and push him out of the car. "No nonsense."
"Let's go to the sea, girls!" he calls out loud and slams the car door, walking quickly in front of the windshield and, in a second, sitting behind the wheel and starting the car.
"Ready to sing?" he glances at Viv in the mirror.
"Bieber!" she shrieks enthusiastically as the first sounds fill the car.
"Four hours," I mutter to myself. As long as he doesn't say anything about my legs or my tits, and keeps his big mouth shut, everything will be all right.
"I thought she'd never stop singing." Colin takes another look in the mirror at Viv, who has fallen asleep in her seat two hours after we left the house. Her eyes are closed, and at last we can turn down the music and talk, without our daughter's squeaky voice filling the car. Though we both agree that her smiles are worth everything.
"I want to make it clear that she developed her Bieber affection all by herself." I lift my legs and straighten them to the windshield.
"You're lucky I know you, darlin’. There's no way it was your idea." He laughs and glances at my legs.
"If it were up to me, she'd listen to something else."
"Like what?" He raises an eyebrow, as if trying to remind me that music was never really my interest. He's right, I've never been into it.
"I don't know," I shrug, "jazz?"
"She's five years old." He laughs loudly.
"It's never too early to start."
"Start what?" he chuckles. "Playing boring music to the girl?"
"At least she won't ask to go to a concert that I'll have to refuse her," I grumble, recalling all the times that Viv wanted to go to Bieber's concerts, despite her young age.
"She wanted to see Bieber?" His mouth falls open.
"More than once, Colin. He performed in Dallas a few months ago and there were a lot of tears streaming down the house. I wasn't going to take her, and not just because of the money. I had no intention of standing in line among thousands of people and risking losing her."
This is the main reason why my daughter didn't see her Bieber, because I'm anxious and cowardly.
"Maybe she'll see him the next time he comes to the area." He shrugs his shoulders indifferently, as if this is another minor matter.
"We'll talk about it when the moment comes." If Colin wants to sit in the stadium and listen to Bieber for a few hours, good luck to him.
"Did you talk to your mom?" He changes the subject quickly, and the temperature in the car drops by a few degrees.
"I saw her yesterday. I don't know how to help her." My mom is withering away in front of my eyes day by day. "My father is still sitting in the car in front of her house."
"You know how to help her," he answers calmly.
"I can't forgive him," I shake my head.
"Lizzie, are you sure you can't do it for her?"
"You don't even know if that's what she wants," I defend myself. "You didn't see her."
"Actually . . ."
The muscles in my body are immediately on alert..
"Colin," my voice is sharp, "when did you meet my mom?"
There is no chance that they met at the grocery store or on the street. Unless . . .
"I worry about her, too." He doesn't take his eyes off the road. Luckily. If he sneaks a look at me, he will encounter my very unhappy face. "So I went to visit her."
"Great," I say loudly. "You had to get involved?"
"I've been involved from the start, and the situation has to be resolved."
"You don't have to solve anything, it's not your problem."
"Your mom was always good to me, I won't sit aside and watch her suffer."
"Do you think that's what I'm doing?" I'm offended.
"Do you know how I felt when I got the phone call from the hospital?" His voice goes harsh. "The doctor told me that my father didn't want them to call. I didn't even know he was hospitalized."
"You were in L.A?" I carefully inquire.
"Yes, at work," he nods. "The doctor didn't beat around the bush. She told me that my father couldn't get onto the transplant list because of his drinking and that, in fact, she didn't think he had the time to wait. She said she knew her request was great, but the bottom line was that my father was going to die and that his life was more or less in my hands."
"Did you hesitate?" I whisper.
"Not for a moment," he answers steadily. "I'm willing to live with a lot of things but I didn't want his death on my conscience. I wasn't tested for him, I was tested for me."
"My father isn't going to die, Colin, nor is my mom." The gap between the situations is great.
"Can you tell me your conscience is clear?" He glances at me before returning his eyes to the road.
"Why wouldn't it be?"
"He made a mistake trying to protect you. What would you do if Viv was in danger?"
His question freezes my blood. Why would anyone want to hurt my daughter?
"You're crossing the line, don't involve Vivian."
"Your father thought he was protecting you, don't you see that?"
"No," I cross my arms, "I don't see it that way."
"In his mind, if he didn't pay, they would chase me and come after you and maybe after Viv too, once she was born." His loathing of the two scums that threatened him is evident in his voice, "you were an easy way to blackmail me."
"He should have payed them without forcing you to leave," I raise my voice and immediately regret it, not wanting to wake Viv.
"I can’t argue with that," his voice falters, as if trying to calm the storm in the car a little. "But you know his past, and I can't put myself in his shoes."
"Do me a favor," I blow out hard, "understand that it was not because of his past, it was all because he couldn't see you were a good man."
"Elizabeth," he reaches toward me and strokes my forearm, "I can't put myself in his shoes. I wasn't in your garage the day your father had to cut the rope and get Morgan off the beam."
"You weren't to blame for what happened, and he wouldn't see it." Tears well up in my eyes.
"Jesus Christ," he puts his hand back to the wheel. "Give the man a break. Do you know what I would do if someone put a finger on Viv?"
"You'll wake her up," I immediately dismiss him.
"Do you understand what he's been through?" He shakes his head in frustration, "Can you imagine it, to find out that a bunch of boys abused his child for months behind his back, drowned him in the toilet, tied him naked to a stand, do I have to go on? He didn't think clearly because he couldn't."
"You and your infinite compassion," I reply scornfully. "Is that what you told my mom, that my father didn't think clearly?"
"I told her that both of them repressed something that had to be talked about for too long. The fact that they moved to another city and hid Morgan's pictures didn't hide his existence or his death."
"And how did it work for you?" I clasp my hands. "Did she forgive him?"
"She won't forgive him until you do. Do you think she wants to be alone?"
"He should of thought about it, before he removed you from my life."
"I'm asking you to do something before it's too late." He pauses.
"What are you hiding?" I sit up in my chair.
"Show a little compassion." He dodges, but it won't work for him. He'll talk, and he'll talk now.
"Colin Young, open your mouth before you get into serious trouble." I lock my jaw and notice the deliberation on his face, aware of his deep breathing.
"Do you remember being seven and your father being sick?" He gives me another look, his eyes dark.
"Did I tell you about that?" I scrunch my forehead. I don't think I ever mentioned it. People are sick sometimes, it's not a big deal.
"Your mom told me," he looks back at the road.
"That my father was sick?"
"That's what they told you." He hesitates a bit. "He didn't lay in a hospital with pneumonia, love, he tried to commit suicide." His hand reaches my thigh, as if to keep me from collapsing.
"My father didn't . . ." The words don't crystallize into a sentence. The blood is running out of my face, and I can't take my eyes off Colin. He wouldn't lie to me.
"He blamed himself for Morgan and couldn't live with it. I beg you, for your mom's sake and for our family, don't let him go through that again, don't let him carry more guilt on his back."
"My father was a happy man," I whisper in confusion. "He always supported us, it's a mistake . . . he's didn't . . ."
"He was a broken man. I couldn't understand him before, but now I know," his voice cracks. "If something happened to you or Vivian…"
"Stop the car." The words spill out of me.
"Lizzie."
"Stop the car!" I have to throw up. I need to talk to my mom. What if my father tries again?
"There's a gas station a few miles, we'll stop there." He presses his fingers against my thigh.
"You should have told me," I turn my head from him to the window. "My mom should have told me. You're all treating me like a little girl."
"I love you," he whispers apologetically.
"I'm sure," I reply scornfully, "you all love me, and your love is suffocating, your love is causing me so much pain."
Their constant attempts to protect me are becoming unbearable, and it's time for them to stop and treat me with respect.
I get out of the car while Colin fills the gas tank, pacing nervously with the phone at my ear and listening to my mom, trying unsuccessfully to explain herself.
"I'm supposed to be on my way to the beach," I shout, "to lie in the sun and not think about anything, and instead I have to worry about my father trying to commit suicide again?"
"I don't think he'll try."
"You don't think?" I roar, and Colin freezes and stares at me. "What is the matter with you?"
"Your father needs to think before he acts," she repeats her mantra, but I've already crossed the threshold of patience.
"He needs to do a lot of things. You all need to talk to me and not hide the truth. I'm furious at you and him, but that doesn't mean I want him to die."
"He hurt you, do you expect me to forgive him for that?" Her tone is incredulous.
"I expect you to open the door and let him sleep on the sofa before he does something we will all regret."
"When you're married for more than thirty years, you can give me advice. And when you find out that your husband lied to you, I will listen to what you have to say. Until then…"
"Do you think Colin didn't lie?" I clench my free fist. "I'm not stupid, I know he could have called over the years, he could have come back and confronted Dad and me, but he didn't. I had to decide whether to throw him off the stairs or forgive him and embrace life he offers me and our daughter. Isn’t that what you told me to do? To forgive? Are you really ready to throw away a marriage of over thirty years?"
"Your father threw it away." She is entrenched in her position.
"If something happens to him, I'll hold you responsible."
"Nothing will happen to him."
"You don't know that. Don't you love him anymore?"
"Elizabeth," she sighs, "of course I love him."
"Then you can be angry with him all you want, but at the same time keep him safe," I insist.
"If I let him back, he will think what he did is forgiven, that it is all right."
"I'm sure he knows he was wrong."
I'm sure my father learned his lesson. My mom threw him out of the house, I’m not letting him get close to Vivian. He understands, I have no doubt about it.
"Your boy is trying to solve the situation," she accuses.
"Colin hasn't been a boy for a long time," I roll my eyes, "in case you haven’t noticed."
"At my age," she defies, "you don't think from between your legs anymore, Elizabeth."
"Do you think that's what I'm doing?" I laugh with scorn. "Do you think that's how Colin won his way back into our lives?"
"Your father should internalize that there's a price for his actions."
"You better look in the mirror and find out who's paying the price." One good look in the mirror, and my mom will let him come home.
"Thanks for the advice," she replies cynically, "have fun at the beach."
"I love you," I try to end the conversation in a conciliatory tone. "Please find a way to be happy again, because I'm worried about you and I'm worried about Dad."
"I love you back."
"Bye, Mom." I hang up the phone and put it back in my bag.
"Ready to move?" Colin comes from behind me and puts his hand on my shoulder, his touch on my bare skin sending shivers down my back.
"Yes," I sigh softly.
"Viv woke up." He gestures to Viv, who is smiling at us from the window. "I hope you can survive another hour of Bieber."
"I've been living with him for a year," I chuckle. "What's another hour?"
"I guess I have more to learn," he whispers.
"You learn fast," I whisper back. "Let's go to the beach."