Chapter 5
Standing in front of the ATM, I stare at the my bank account's balance and roll my eyes.
Twenty-five thousand dollars. More than I've ever had, but if someone thinks he'll buy his way back into our lives, he's in for a painful awakening.
I planned on spending my lunch break sitting on the bench in the car park eating the sandwich I'd brought from home, but I lost my appetite. I take out my cell phone, dial and wait.
Breathe. Breathe, and don't lose your cool.
The mantra I memorize doesn't help. My phone is pressed to my ear, I'm waiting nervously for my ex to answer and get a good one from me.
"Elizabeth," he answers in a steady voice. He has no idea what is coming his way, because the girl he left behind and the girl I am today are not the same.
"Do you think I'm a whore?" I fire with disgust.
"What the . . ."
"I asked, do you think I'm a whore?" I repeat the words just to shock him more.
"Since when did you start talking like that?" His tone tenses.
"Since I had to raise my child alone!" I imagine my words hitting him hard. "What made you think you could come here with your money and buy us?"
"That's not what I did."
"That's exactly what you did. We got along fine before you returned. No one needs your favors or you!"
"That's not your decision." He manages not to raise his voice.
"You won't come here and wave your dollars in expectation that I'll follow them blindly."
"I've known you long enough to know nothing will blind you."
"You don't know me. You don't know what I went through because of you." The words rolls from my tongue in anger. "Because of your lies, the girl I was is dead. You killed her, Colin. You stole my future and you're hallucinating if you think giving me mone . . ."
"It's not your money, it's Vivian's money." His semantics don’t work on me.
"I'm not one of those dumb cheerleaders who followed you 'round school. Maybe you should have married one of them and not ruined my life."
"I didn't expect you to welcome me with open arms, but she is my daughter, and I will do as I see fit, when I see fit." He takes a deep breath, "And next time you call yourself a whore . . ."
"Don't make me feel like one." I struggle not to stammer.
"I'm not doing you favors," he says in a cold tone. "I'm fulfilling my duties."
"Until when? The next time you decide you don't love anymore?"
"You're still not listening," he says nervously, "I'm not leaving."
"I listened to you for four long years and see where I ended up?"
"I see quite well," he sounds impatient. "It seems the only one who doesn't see is you."
"Please don't hurt her," I plead.
"Hurt her?"
"She's just a girl, she doesn't know anything, don't get into her life if there's any chance you'll get out of it."
"I've told you and I'll tell you again, I won't approach her without your permission, but I ask that you allow us to meet. Not today, not tomorrow, but sometime in the near future, let me meet her."
"Show me you're trustworthy," I answer without hesitation.
"That's exactly what I intend to do."
"Are you sure your business is legit?" Because I wouldn't be surprised if I found out that he was involved in the mafia, or some other organized crime, or any crime when you think about it.
"The business is legit. Are you sure you haven’t heard our advertisement on the radio?"
"I don't know," I reply in an insulting tone, "let me think about it, since I don't really listen to the radio, and all my time is devoted to my daughter."
"I understand," he answers quietly. That just shut his mouth.
"That's the problem, Colin, I don't think you do understand. I don't think you know what it's like to hate someone so much you'll pay any amount of money to make them go away."
"You forget where I came from." He is serious.
"I never forgot where you came from, just as I never forgot your promise to never hurt me like," I cut my sentence at once. I hate him, really, and still, the girl I used to be prevents me from pressing that point. To mention the life he had. For a few moments there's silence between us.
"Are you there?" I ask.
"Just wondering if there are any more skeletons you want to get out of my dusty closet."
I deserve it. In spite of what he did, there are things he doesn't deserve to have slammed in his face.
"I'm sorry."
"Call me when you have the numbers." The call ends.
I went too far, and now I hate myself. The secrets he shared only with me shocked me to my bone. I swore never to compare, never to mention the past, and I didn't keep my word.
I know everything between us is diminished by what he did, and that his abandonment was the worst thing he could do, and yet I know his scars, I know where each and every one is placed, and he didn't need a reminder.
I take a deep breath. How easy it is to come back out of nowhere, crash into other people's lives and come up with demands. Did he stop for a moment and think about me? During those years, did he ask himself how I was doing? How Vivian was? Because the way it looks from here, he hung out and made money, and let us struggle. Now he wants to come back? I don't think so, mister. I don't think so.
Henry realizes that something is wrong when I return to the store with a sagging face. He glances at me over his shoulder and mumbles something to the impressive customer who takes interest in the round coffee table that has been standing in the corner of the store for months. I approach both of them, ready to help Henry and perhaps justify the salary I receive mainly for keeping the place clean. The tall woman makes him agitated. I see him shifting weight from one leg to the other and biting his lip. I also know that if Henry's parents had not been Mr. Blunt's childhood friends, he would probably have been fired long ago
"Good afternoon," I greet her, trying not to stare at her shiny blond hair. She looks like someone who has the money to buy the table. Hell, she looks like a thirty-year-old who has the money to buy a sofa, a dining set, and a few pictures and mirrors. All I can hope is that I am not mistaken and that our client is potentially furnishing her house.
"Hello," she reaches her hand in a gesture that confuses me. "I'm Danielle."
Why does she think I should know her name? And why is her black dress sitting on her illegally well?
"Elizabeth," I shake her cold hand, fighting instinctively to pull my hand back in recoil. "Can I help you?"
"This nice guy just helped me understand."
"Henry," I correct her.
"Yes, Henry." She smiles and reveals her straight teeth. "Like I said, Henry helped me figure out some things."
"Maybe I can help too," I insist.
"You're expensive." She doesn't beat around the bush.
"Quality costs, Danielle." I'm not taken aback by her statement. I hear that claim from every customer who enters.
"Very expensive, Elizabeth." She tilts her head sideways teasingly. Okay, I don't like her. As far as I'm concerned she doesn't need to buy anything. She can just get out empty-handed and sleep on the floor in her unfurnished house.
"Are you working on fees?" Her question undermines the little confidence I have.
"No," I answer in a steady voice, barely.
"No wonder," she mumbles to herself, her eyes quickly examining the variety of furniture that has been standing in the same place for months.
"How can I help you?" I don't think she's going to buy anything. She must have just been bored and came into the store to spend an hour of her life harassing Henry and me for fun. Another former high school cheerleader who teased others for sport.
"Henry has already answered all my questions." She smiles at Henry, and her smile makes him chew his lip even more.
"Maybe I can show you something else. What exactly are you looking for?" I make one last effort to sell her a piece of furniture she probably doesn't need.
"I don't think so." She shakes her head and her blond hair moves from side to side elegantly. My mother would love her, her makeup and her upright posture. Of that, I have no doubt.
"Maybe another time." I hold out my hand to shake hers in order to end the encounter.
"Maybe." She squeezes my hand tightly, her eyes on Henry. "Thank you for the help, young man."
Young man? I hold back a laugh. She doesn't look much older than us. Who does she think she is?
"You're welcome." Henry manages not to stammer, and she reaches forward, waiting for him to shake her hand next. He stares at her hand, her long fingernails painted in shiny red nail polish.
"Will I wait long?" She laughs and wakes him from his coma.
"Excuse me," he grabs her hand clumsily and squeezes it, "nice to meet you."
Oh Henry . . .
"Very nice." She laughs again. "Have a good day."
She releases her hand, smiles at me for the last time and walks away confidently, her high heels knocking on the parquet floor, until she reaches the door, opens it and walks out.
I let out air demonstratively, a long, desperate breath.
"What was that?" I ask Henry without expecting a real answer.
"Customer," he murmurs, "a scary one."
"Was she? Scary?" I twist my face.
"She asked a bunch of questions, tried to confuse me, maybe she was a little successful."
"Confuse you?" I laugh out loud, "Henry, you know every nail in the wall."
"Did you see her?" He stares at me with a look I have not seen on his face for a very long time.
"Henry?" I raise an eyebrow mischievously.
"She's beautiful." He manages not to stammer again. "Very beautiful."
"Very beautiful," I repeat his words.
"She's smart too, her questions were good. She wanted to know how big the store is, how many people come in every day, what our average sales are."
"Jesus Christ." My brain works quickly and processes the data that Henry seems to have missed because the girl is beautiful. "She's not a customer, Henry, she's renting the store!"
His hand leaps to his mouth and his eyes open in horror.
"You think?" he filters the words through his fingers.
"Yes." My heart is accelerating. "She's going to fire us, for sure."
"Crap," he doesn't take his eyes off me. "I should have lied to her."
"No." He couldn't have lied to her, even if he wanted to. "It was bound to happen sooner or later, even though I would have preferred someone else to rent the place, and not . . . her."
"Because she's beautiful?" Henry doesn't take his hand from his mouth.
"Because she's vain, self-confident and very unpleasant," I sharpen my point.
"She was actually nice."
"She called you a young man." I stare at him reproachfully.
"Oh, that." He finally lets go of his mouth.
"Yes, Henry, that, and the tone in which she spoke." I'm sure he missed that too.
"I guess it's time to enroll in college." He shrugs his shoulders in disappointment.
"The sooner the better." I sigh loudly, my insides making an impressive somersault.
I'm going to be fired. I know that.
Cleaning apartments here I come.
Who the hell calls me at eleven o'clock? I pull my phone out sleepily, glancing at the screen.
Colin? He must be angry at our last conversation. Angry at me and the promise I broke.
My heart drops as I get out of bed, walk out of the bedroom into the hallway and answer quietly.
"Hello?"
"I want to see her," he fires without waiting.
"You can't."
"I don't care how you organize it or under what conditions, I—"
"Is it because of what I said this afternoon?" I sit down with my back against the wall. "That's why you woke me up?"
"No." He's lying, I know that. "I didn't mean to wake you up."
"You woke me up because of what I said."
"Don't look for reasons, I want to see her because she's my daughter," he replies firmly.
"I'm sorry if I touched a sensitive nerve," I hasten to apologize again.
"You didn't touch anything, what's in the past stayed there."
"We both know that's not true." What happened will never be locked in the past.
"I want to see her," he continues to insist.
"I don't trust you."
"You'll have to learn."
"Colin," my voice shakes, "she's four and a half, she doesn't know you."
"She's almost five, and she'll get to know me."
"I need more time," I almost beg.
"More time for what? To convince yourself that I'm a no-good who left? You've had five years, I'm pretty sure you're convinced." His voice doesn't resemble the guy full of confidence he's trying to be. The guy on the other side of the phone sounds desperate.
"What do you want from me? You don't know what I went through."
"Do you really think I can't guess for myself?" He raises his voice. "I left you behind on our wedding day, pregnant. I left you to deal with everything, do you really think I don't know?"
"How much did you drink?" The question comes out of my mouth unexpectedly.
"I don't drink, Elizabeth," he says scornfully.
"You see, I don't know anything about you."
"I want to see her and I'm still waiting for the final amount. I’m losing my patience here."
"You are losing your patience?" I shout in shock. "That’s rich."
"What will you do? Send your father and his friends to deal with me again?"
"You know I didn't send them."
"I don’t know anything! I don't know what happened to the life we were supposed to have." He stops abruptly and I can hear my heart pounding wildly in my chest.
"You left a note, made it clear that you didn't love me, that it was all a mistake." The tear barrier is breached. I pinch my nose and sob into the phone without shame. "This . . ." I can't stop crying. "This is what you left behind, and now you want to come back. Do you have any idea how scared I am? I'm a single mother, Vivian is all I have, I'm the only parent she knows, and you are losing your patience?"
"She's all I've have too," he whispers.
"What about your business, what about all the money? You seem to have built a good life, while I stopped everything." I shut up before I say something I shouldn't. Colin isn't the only one who has secrets. There are things he shouldn't know.
"All I did was with the intention of coming back and being someone Vivian can be proud of."
"She didn't want to be proud of anyone, she wanted a father," I sob quietly.
"She has a father."
"Until when? 'Til the next time you leave?"
"I'm not going anywhere, Elizabeth. Take it in, let it sink in. I'm staying. You're not supposed to believe me, but I'll prove it to you in time. Let me see my child."
"Let me sleep on it, give me time," I plead again.
"The clock is ticking." He hangs up the call again, leaving me on the hallway floor with my phone in my hand for another sleepless night.
Were the signs always there? Was I blind, naive to think that we could overcome everything? How could I fool myself that my love alone would suffice?
We never had a future together. I was his escape, the only comfort he knew. The one who accepted him unconditionally, the one who gave up on the future he didn't even know was within her reach. . I was the rock on which he shattered, until he no longer needed me. He had to stay away from me to survive. I was unnecessary baggage, a weight that dragged him down. So he cut the rope, swam to shore and left me to drown.
.