Part 4
Chapter 7
I wanted to hand calling Catherine off to Mom, but I realized that wouldn't be entirely fair. For what I had just talked my mother into, during a supreme moment of weakness, is something Catherine deserved to get a chance to yell at me for. So, I pulled off to a gas station and pulled out my cell phone. I hit the speed dial button for Catherine's cell and it only took two rings for her to pick it up.
When she first answered she wanted to know if she could call me back because she was in the middle of something. Crime in Las Vegas was still going on and Catherine was out there trying to help curb it. I wanted to tell her that it would be okay to call me back, but not all of me had gone cuckoo in the last few hours. So, I told her that Mom and I had decided to drive out to California so that we could work a few things out.
"What things?" Catherine asks and I can tell she's doing her best to make sure that our conversation isn't being overheard on her end.
Saying I don't know exactly what things probably won't make her feel better. "I think we're going to visit Laura's grave."
"Melinda, what are you thinking?"
She's on the verge of yelling at me, I know, but fortunately for me she's probably surrounded by a lot of people so she can't lose her cool. "It might help, Catherine."
"But you're both going, alone."
"We're not alone. We're with each other."
"You know what I mean, Melinda." Okay, so I do know what she means. "Damn it," she mutters into the phone and I know she's going to have to let me go. "I have to call you back."
"Okay."
I'm ready to hang up, but Catherine's voice makes me stop. "Wait, where are you?"
I can't lie. "We're almost to the 'Welcome to California' sign."
She swears again. "You're not going to turn around?"
I shrug. "Kind of committed to this now."
"I'll call you back," she even manages to make that sound like a long streamed curse.
I hang up my phone and put it back in my pocket. Mom comes out of the convenience store with a couple of bottles of water and a sack of something. She throws one of the bottles at me and asks what Catherine had to say. I tell her that Catherine was busy and that she had to call me back.
Mom accepts my answer and gets back in the car. I take a quick look at the interstate in the direction we've come from. What I said to Catherine was the truth. I am committed to this now. I have to be.
So I get back into the car and restart the engine. Mom is flipping through the radio stations and when she can't find anything decides to flip through my case of CDs. I pull back onto the highway and a couple of minutes later we pass the sign welcoming us to California.
I take a quick look over at Mom trying to see if anything is going on with her, but she's just paying attention to the CDs she has spread out across her lap. Perhaps that's for the best. Besides, now seems like a pretty stupid time to start trying and finding reassurances from her at this point.
My phone rings in my pocket and I fidget around to pull it out. I put my earpiece in my ear and then answer it.
"Catherine just called me," Nikki's voice tells me. "Do you know what you're doing?"
"I don't really have an answer to that right now." Nikki deserves my honesty too.
"I can meet you there tomorrow." She offers.
"Give Mom and me some time?"
There's silence, but I know Nikki isn't going to deny me. "I don't know if I can hold Catherine off for that long."
I can feel Mom's eyes on me. "Give us two days."
"I don't think that's possible. You'll be lucky to have the night."
She's right. Catherine really isn't the sit by and wait type. She's probably hoping that one conversation with Nikki will have me turning this car around. "Okay then, I'll take it."
Nikki chuckles softly. "Be careful, Mel, and let me know if you need anything."
"Thanks, Nik."
"I love you, Mel."
"Love you too."
We hang up and that short little conversation with Nikki has infused me with some confidence that I thought would never appear. She trusts me to do this even if I don't know exactly what it is I'm doing, so that must mean that what I'm doing makes some type of sense.
"What'd Nikki want?" Mom asks without taking her eyes off of the CD's in front of her.
"She was just checkin' to make sure we were okay." Although, she probably wouldn't have minded if I had decided to turn the car around and go back.
Mom nods. "Catherine called her." Her eyes finally settle on me. "She moves fast."
I'm not quite sure if Mom's tone is hostile towards Catherine, but it sure doesn't sound nice. "She's worried."
"She just wants to control this like she controls everything else."
Whoa. Okay that raises a little red flag in my head. "What?"
Her eyes fall back to her lap. "Never mind."
I'm not stupid. I know there are issues that exist in my parents' relationship. I'm just not privy to them all and I doubt that Lindsey is privy to them either. Catherine and Mom have always been careful to keep their arguments away from Lindsey and me. Sometimes, Lindsey and I would overhear them fighting about work or people at work, but for the most part there just wasn't stuff for us to overhear.
Once I was well on my way to the happy land of a full recovery, Mom and Catherine were both back at work full-time. They put in their long and hard hours and handed off a lot of responsibility to me, which was actually pretty cool of them considering everything I had just put them through.
I kept up with most of the house stuff, like getting the groceries and mundane things like that. Lindsey and I shared most of the chores, and of course I was pretty much in charge of what Lindsey was doing while Mom and Catherine were off at work doing their own thing.
We had a pretty good system going that everyone seemed to be okay with. Then, of course, I had to go and change up everything again by going to school and moving in with Nikki. Mom and Catherine, at first, really didn't want me to move out because they didn't think it was such a good idea. Mostly, they didn't think I was ready to make a commitment to Nikki and I'm not too sure they felt that Nikki was ready to make that kind of commitment to me.
"You and Catherine were right about Nikki and me." Now seems as a good a time as any to start confessing things to Mom that don't exactly need confessing. We might as well start doing the soul bearing thing since I don't really know how much time we're going to have on this trip of it being just the two us.
"What?" Mom looks confused, and she should be. I didn't really give her a good segue.
"Nikki and I weren't ready to commit to each other when we moved in together." I explain. "So, you and Cath were right."
She shifts in the seat and I think she's finally given up on trying to find a CD to put in the player. It probably would have been easier on her if I had actually labeled the MP3 discs that I had burnt. "Did something happen between the two of you?" She sounds concerned.
I shrug. "Wouldn't necessarily say between us."
"Then what would you say?"
"More like between us and others." I smirk knowing that Mom will not share the humor I find in my words.
"She cheated on you?" She sounds angry about it, but I don't really expect her to remain perfectly calm. All that's happening right now is about high emotion and impulsive thinking. In order to have calm, there's first got to be some logical contemplation going on first.
"I wouldn't call it that." Things are a lot more complicated than just being able to call it that.
"Why didn't you listen to us when we tried to warn you?" Mom's suddenly calm again. She's leaning back in her seat with her hands resting on her thighs.
"I was convinced that I knew what I knew and that you both just didn't understand that." I don't really have a good reason for not listening to them. I think I just convinced myself that I had a greater knowledge about things than my parents did. It turns out that I really didn't and I can't say that I'm necessarily surprised by that.
"We've," Mom clears her throat, "Catherine and I have gone through a lot, Mel."
Yeah, I still don't know all their big secret stories about their relationship. It's not really fair for me to call them secret, though, because I didn't ask to know them. I've just accepted that Mom and Catherine come as a pair. I've never really concerned myself with how they got that way or how it is they stay that way.
For the last few years, I think I've just summed everything up to love, which is just another way of me admitting that I went for the easy way of thinking instead of the harder one. Love doesn't do it all, I know better than that. Nikki and I work hard to keep what we have going and it's not the love we have to work on.
"I had sex with someone else too, Mom. It wasn't just Nik."
She nods like she was already aware of what I just admitted to. "Catherine and I did it wrong in the beginning too." She fidgets a little and turns her gaze to her window. She looks outside and I only get a brief look at her reflection before I focus back on the road ahead of us. "We went too fast and just kept on going until it blew up in front of us."
"You mean you didn't fall in love and go to an immediate happily ever after?"
"When we started sleeping with each other, we really didn't even get along yet."
That's something I didn't know. "So when did you start getting along?"
"It was after Lindsey's father died." Yeah, I still don't know too much about what happened with that. Lindsey told me her side of things, but her viewpoint is that of a little girl that just lost her father so it lacks a few details here and there. "Him dying started to make me think of you again, so I started drinking to make the memories go away. Catherine must have realized something was wrong, because one night she followed me to a bar and stopped me from driving home."
"Intense."
Her hand rubs at her face. "That was the first night she told me that she loved me."
"Cath kind of helped saved us both, huh?" Makes me feel bad for just ditching town and probably worrying the hell out of her. I know my track record with dealing with the big emotional stuff hasn't been the greatest and now I can assume that Mom's track record isn't much better than my own.
"A few weeks after she picked me up, I told her about you." Mom turns to me and I manage to get a brief glimpse of her eyes staring right through me. "I told her everything."
My eyes are starting to tear up so I do a few rapid blinks hoping they'll go away. This is kind of an emotional talk here, and since my imagination is getting really active these days, it's giving me some real vivid visions of how hard it must have been for them both to go through everything they did. They didn't exactly have an easy road paved out for them.
In a way, I think Nikki and I had an easier beginning. We met during shitty times, that's for sure, but we at least always got along. She might have been a heroine addict and I might have been an unstable bipolar person, but we found a way to support each other without the drama of trying to figure out how we felt for each other because it was just kind of always there.
Even now, there's an easiness between Nikki and me that I'm not completely sure exists between Mom and Catherine. Maybe that's because we found each other earlier in life than Cath and Mom found each other so we just don't have to deal with as many past hurts or something. I don't know, I'm not an expert at this stuff, but it sort of makes sense. Nikki and I didn't have to find a way to fit into each other's life because we didn't have a life to speak of. Mom and Catherine had lives and they had to figure out how to mingle them together.
"So you two were cool after you confessed everything?"
"Things got better."
I don't know what else to say or what else to ask. Considering that I really didn't know any of this a few moments ago, I might need some time to actually process it all before I can talk about it intelligently.
Mom shifts around in her seat, again. She's staring out at the road ahead of us and takes a few long breaths before I hear her mutter something that sounds like, "Now, I just don't know what I'm doing."
That's certainly something I can relate to. It's probably a feeling we're both quite familiar with. "Nikki and I have some stuff to work out." Again, not a very good segue, but I know Mom is done talking about Catherine right now.
"You'll both be fine," she tells me.
I want to tell her that she and Catherine will be fine too, but something holds me back from letting the words come out. "Sitting down with you and Catherine to talk about all this before probably would have helped me out a little."
She reaches over and puts her hand on my right arm. In the past the action might have surprised me so much that I would have almost swerved off the road at the contact, but things change. I've changed. We both have. "You'll be fine." She tells me again.
My right hand drops from the wheel making her hand drop from my arm. I grab her hand in my own and take the comfort she's offering me. "I know, Mom."
She squeezes my hand a little. "Cath and I will be fine too."
A breath of relief escapes me and I'm a little more than thankful that my mother is telling me that my parents' relationship isn't going to end. Trials and tribulations are good and everything, but ultimately I do want my parents to be together forever. I just don't know how things would work with them being apart. Their relationship offers me a lot of stability, and selfishly I don't want that to go away.
"So this California thing isn't crazy, right?" She's acting a little bit more like my mother now, so I figure it's gotta be somewhat safe to ask this.
Mom starts laughing. "No," She shakes her head, "this is definitely crazy"
The smile that settles on my face matches hers. "Just wanted to make sure we're on the same page."
She lets out a soft chuckle, but her hand is still holding onto mine. We're not letting go of this small comfort. "I'm a big girl, Mel. If I didn't want to be here with you then I wouldn't be."
"Is that your way of telling me that I'm having sudden delusions of power and influence that don't exist?"
Before Mom can respond to my not so serious question, my phone rings. I pick it up, expecting that it's Catherine finally getting a chance to call me back, but am a little surprised when I hear Lindsey's voice instead. "Where are you?" she asks me, immediately sounding irritated for some reason or other.
"Have you talked to your mother?" I'm kind of hoping that Catherine hasn't decided to call Lindsey and have her try and talk me into going back to Las Vegas. It's not something she would do, but I'm not really sure how much Mom and me taking off rattled her.
"No," Lindsey answers, sounding no less irritated. "I want to go out with some friends," she tells me, "and I know Mom won't let me go out unless you come with me. So, what are you doing tonight?"
"Where is it you want to go?" Not that it really matters since I'm not in the same state anymore and therefore there is no possible way she's going out with her friends tonight.
"It's a club."
Sometimes talking to her can be like pulling teeth. "What kind of club?"
"It's not a twenty-one and up club if that's what you're wondering. I know you wouldn't let me use a fake ID."
"Your tone could be a little nicer since you're calling to ask me to do something for you."
She sighs heavily into the phone and I can imagine her eyes rolling in her complete annoyance. "Will you please go out with me tonight?"
"I can't." Her tone really didn't improve that much so I don't feel bad for leading her on. "I'm on a road trip with Sara."
"Where are you going? Why didn't you tell me?" She whines.
"It's a spontaneous trip." I take a quick peek over at my mother who is not being so inconspicuous about listening to my conversation. "We're going to California to settle some stuff."
"What stuff?" She immediately asks then takes a sharp intake of breath before asking, "Does Mom know what you're doing?" She whispers.
"I called her and told her about it."
"She angry?"
"I wouldn't say she wasn't."
"And you left me here?" She shrieks into the phone forcing me to cringe a little.
"This isn't a vacation, Lindsey." I say seriously.
"Fine. So when are you coming back?"
"Ask your mother."
"Whatever." She pauses for a moment. "So, do you think Nikki will go out with me tonight?"
A bark of laughter escapes from me surprising both Mom and me. I really didn't expect Lindsey's question. "You can call and ask her."
"Let me talk to Sara," she tells me.
"Why?"
"Just give her the phone."
"Be nice," I warn her before I unplug my headset and hand my cell phone over to my mother. She gives me a strange look before she takes it, but she puts it to her ear and tells Lindsey hello.
For the most part, there's silence on Mom's end until she starts talking to Lindsey about not taking advantage of her mother. She sounds a lot more parental when she talks to Lindsey than when she talks to me. Perhaps that's because Lindsey is a few years younger than me or perhaps it's just because she's actually been a parental figure longer to Lindsey than she has been to me.
Mom and I have only been in this parental relationship for five years, if the first two years of my life are counted. She's been a mother type to Lindsey for at least six or seven years. Lindsey got a real chance to grow up with her being around and everything. Circumstances out of Mom's and my control sort of made the me growing up around her thing not a possibility.
I can admit that sometimes I'm jealous of Lindsey for having the time with my mother that I didn't get, but I also think that Lindsey is a little jealous of the relationship I have with her mother too. Catherine and I are close and our relationship isn't as turbulent as the one she has with Lindsey.
The two of them lock heads a lot in battles of power that have been going on for a while now. Lindsey's mostly trying to assert her independence and Catherine is still trying to control the levels of that independence. I think it irks Lindsey that when I was still living with them, when I was her age, she saw Catherine give me a lot more freedoms than she's getting.
The difference that Lindsey isn't recognizing is that my freedoms were given to me so that I could get well again. I wasn't put under a lot of restrictions because I simply just couldn't be put under them. As a matter of fact, it's not really fair to compare Lindsey and my experience with our parents. We have two very different sets of circumstances and cumulative experiences.
Still, sometimes that jealousy appears in me just like it appears for Lindsey. Nikki swears to me that it's this phenomenon called 'Sibling Rivalry' that we're experiencing. I guess I'll have to take her word for it since I've never really had any siblings before. I mean sure, I thought my mom was my sister for a good portion of my life, but she wasn't around to be a sister. I've never lived with a sibling on a day to day basis before so have no reference point for what can and cannot be called sibling rivalry.
I do have other siblings besides Lindsey, I guess, but we don't really have what I would call a relationship. They email me sometimes, telling me what they're doing in their lives. The only reason I think they even bother to email me is because Robert puts them up to it. He has some kind of whacked out fantasy that one day I'm going to want to be a real part of his family.
After three years of digestible contact with him, I'm really no closer to wanting to be a part of his family or a part of his life. He may be my biological father, but I really don't feel any connection to him at all. He keeps on trying to get me to feel it, but it's just not happening, and I don't think that it is ever going to happen.
Mom hangs up the phone then passes it back over to me. I put it down in a cup holder then ask her if everything is okay. She tells me it is and doesn't bother to elaborate at all. Since I didn't bother to listen in on their conversation, I guess that means I really don't care too much what they were talking about.
We pass a road sign that lets us know we're only a couple of hundred miles away from where it is we're going. I reach out and grab back onto my mother's hand. Her palm is sweaty and I could almost swear that her hand is shaking a little.
I'd like to say something to her, something that would help calm her down a little, but I don't know what it is I could say because I can't think of anything right now that would calm me down. At least I have the distraction of having to concentrate on driving. Mom doesn't have that same luxury, so all she has to concentrate on is what we're driving towards.
"I love you, Melinda."
Oh, well I guess I could have said that to her to try and calm her down. It seems to work. "I love you too, Mom."
So, we're committed to this. I think this has just now officially been turned into mutual agreed upon road trip.
Woo Hoo.
Chapter 8
After driving for five hours, I finally pulled over and let Mom take over the driving. There are a little over six hundred miles between Tomales Bay, California and Las Vegas, Nevada. That's a lot of driving time between the two cities, and I couldn't do the entirety of it on my own.
Sure, the adrenaline helped out at first, but adrenaline wears off and usually when it does it can make a person feel a little lethargic. Plus, it probably doesn't help any that Mom and my spontaneity happened in the late evening instead of at the break of a fresh new day.
I've been fighting off sleep for the last hour. Mom told me that I could go ahead and sleep if I wanted, but it doesn't really feel right to just fall asleep on her. Right now, I'm trying to focus on the lines in the road and the rate at which they're passing me by. It makes me a little dizzy, but every time I focus on something else I start to fall asleep again.
I tried singing along with the disc I put into the player, but since I'm really bad at remembering any song lyrics whatsoever, I could only hum along a little while my mother laughed at me for continuing to get the lyrics wrong. She, of course, is better at memorizing lyrics than I am and I can even admit that she sings a little better than I do too.
It's not like I can't carry a tune, because I can. It's sort of a hidden talent of mine, but Mom is still better at it than me. It's sort of her hidden talent as well that I only discovered existed when I walked in on her playfully singing a song to Catherine. I don't remember what song it was, but I know it sounded good coming from my mother.
She was really embarrassed when she realized I had caught her singing. I don't know if she was more embarrassed that I had walked in on something between her and Catherine or if she was more embarrassed that she had unknowingly revealed something to me that I suspect very few people know about.
Catherine took the whole situation in stride, but also told me that I should find someplace else to be. So, I left them alone and went and hung out over at Nikki's. I never had any problems with giving them the time alone they asked for. They didn't ask for it often, but when they did I wasn't going to argue with them about it.
"We could start a band." My tired brain lets my mouth say.
"And why would we do that?" Mom asks with a half smile fixed on her face.
"Because we have talents we should share with the world?" I shouldn't be allowed to talk when I'm this tired.
"Not knowing lyrics is a talent." She's being sarcastic. I know it.
"I could take up an instrument." I've never been interested before, and I'm pretty sure I'm not interested now but for now this conversation is keeping me awake. "I always thought I'd look really sexy with a guitar. It'd be a sexy band."
Mom chuckles. "You're so tired you're starting to hallucinate."
"No, I mean it." I turn my body towards hers. "I'd look good with a guitar."
"I meant that you're hallucinating if you think I'd be in a sexy band with my daughter."
Perhaps she has a point, but still. "You're an attractive woman, Mom. You underestimate your sexy factor."
She shakes her head a little, but that half-smile is still on her face. "You should try and sleep."
"Do you not think you're attractive?" I ask despite knowing that she's right. I should try and sleep.
Her smile falls away. "Go to sleep, Mel."
Oh. I've hit on a nerve of some type. "You could play the ukulele." I bet I can get the smile back. "That way you really don't overshadow my own sexiness." I rub at my eyes. "I've never seen anyone make the ukulele look sexy. Maybe you could change that."
Mom's fighting a smile. "A ukulele? What kind of band are you trying to put together?"
"Wait, wait, I have a better idea." I say hurriedly. "I should play the piano all elegant like while you play the ukulele. It'll be a jazz band."
Mom snorts. "A jazz band? Seriously?"
My hand goes to her shoulder. "The first jazz band with a ukulele," I say excitedly. "It can be our thing."
"Mel, I've never had the desire to learn to play the ukulele."
I drop my hand from her shoulder. "Is there an instrument you have a desire to play?"
She thinks about it for a moment. "Your grandfather played the guitar." She admits softly. "Sometimes he would play for the guests at the bed and breakfast, and I would watch him. He tried to teach me how to play."
By the time I was conscious of who my grandfather was, he was pretty much dead to the world. They sold the bed and breakfast by the time I turned ten, because they couldn't keep up with the place anymore. From what I can remember, my grandfather never owned a guitar and he never sang. For all I knew, he didn't even know what music was at all. "Did you not want to learn how?"
"No," she shakes her head, "I just didn't want lessons from him."
"I didn't even know he played," I confess with a shrug of my shoulders. "But even if I did, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't want him in our band."
My phone rings and I can see from the caller ID that it's Catherine finally getting a chance to call me back. Whatever must have been going on with her work probably was pretty serious to keep her from calling me for so long.
"It's Catherine," I tell Mom as I press the talk button on my phone and bring it to my ear. "Hello?"
"You both still alive?" She sounds really tired.
"And thinking of starting a jazz band with a ukulele." I let my humor cover my tone.
"I don't feel like joking around with you right now, Melinda." Her response jumpstarts my brain back into action. It's finally starting to remember that she's probably still pissed at Mom and me for taking off, and that she's probably worried. She doesn't want to hear about me putting together a jazz band. She wants me to tell her that we're on our way back home. She wants to know that we're okay.
"We're doing fine, Catherine." I reply; all hints of humor have left my tone. "We're about two hours away from our hometown."
"Let me talk to Sara."
My eyes dart over to Mom and I have no idea whether or not I should hand over the phone. The choice is taken away from me, though, when Mom reaches over and takes the phone away from me. The action causes the car to swerve a little, but once Mom has a firm grasp on my cell phone she rights the car and we are no longer in danger of crashing.
There's a moment of silence before Mom says her hello. There's more silence before I hear Mom say, "Give Mel and me a couple of days. I know you're worried and I'm sorry for the way we left, but we need to do this, Catherine."
More silence, then, "I know, but we need to do this together."
If I didn't know better, from the one-sided conversation I'm overhearing one could assume that I wasn't the one that came up with this sudden idea for a road trip at all. Mom's making it sound like it was her idea all along.
"Hey Baby, it's okay, I promise. We're going to come back."
Baby? I don't think I've ever heard Mom call Catherine that before.
"I love you, Cath."
Mom shuts my phone and then hands it back to me. I take it from her and can't help but stare down at it. I'm almost tempted to ask what it was Catherine and she were conversing about, but a part of me really thinks that it's not any of my business.
That adrenaline that had wormed its way out of my blood vessels has wormed its way back into them. I'm wide awake now and more than a little uncomfortable with the silence that we've fallen into. I would start talking about the ukulele again, but I think I've kind of worn that topic into the ground. Plus, all I can think of at the moment is not asking Mom about her conversation with Catherine.
A little voice in the back of my head keeps whispering to me to not ask while a big booming alto is telling me to get all the details. So since I don't know what might come out of my mouth if I open it, I decide to maintain my silence. If Mom wants to say something then she can.
"Your grandmother could sing too."
Mom's voice startles me. "That's surprising." And I'm not too happy about the surprise either, because that means that I've inherited something from my grandmother.
"When I was growing up, they were very… artsy."
I raise my brow. "Is that your euphemism for neurotic?"
She chuckles a little at my question, despite the fact that I was being serious. "I guess it could be. They were different when I was younger."
"Different how?"
"They didn't hit me."
I wouldn't even know how to imagine a world in which either of my grandparents knew how to discipline without their abusive words and fists. My grandfather never really ever went at me like my grandmother did, but he'd get frustrated at times and would let loose on me. He'd also find a way to make my grandmother's abuse somehow my fault.
He'd tell me that I was acting up too much or that I wasn't doing what I was supposed to do. He'd say that I could do better, and since I was just a little girl I believed him. I believed there was something I could do that would make me better that would stop Laura from punishing me like she did.
If Laura was doing something to me then that meant it was my fault. He couldn't be told otherwise. They were a team. I knew I couldn't run to either one of them for protection against the other. The thought of even trying to run to my grandmother for anything seems really foreign. I spent most of my time trying to stay out of her way. I tried to stay out of both their ways. Since I couldn't be better, then all I wanted to be was invisible.
"I never understood why they even started," Mom continues and I make a conscious effort to concentrate on her words instead of memories of my childhood. "They always seemed so happy and just…sort of wild, but they called it being free. Eventually, their freedom kind of just changed things."
'Free' would not be the word I'd use to describe my grandparents. I often saw them acting angry and being angry. I'm sure I witnessed other emotions coming from them, but I guess I just don't remember those times as well as I remember the others. "What do you think changed for them?"
Mom shakes her head. "I honestly don't know, Mel. It's something I've never understood."
That seems like it could be kind of freaky for a kid: their parents changing like that. I mean it's like she goes to sleep with a happy family life and then wakes up with it all gone. The happiness disappears and is filled in by anger and violence, and there's no reason for the change.
See, one thing I got from my grandparents was stability. What could get me in trouble might not have been predictable, but at least I didn't have to face the changes in them that Mom did. I wouldn't want that.
"Was your Mom bipolar?" I've never asked her this before; I never really wanted to know the answer. I'm pretty sure that I don't want to know the answer now, but the way Mom is describing everything it sort of sounds like I could have inherited more from my grandmother than a decent singing voice.
It's not like I'll be surprised to figure out that Laura Sidle and I share this…thing. I'm not stupid. I lived in the same house with my grandmother for the majority of my life. I could see her doing things that didn't make sense to me. I could see the mood swings and extremity in them.
Mom's hands tighten on the steering wheel. "Probably," she nods. "I think so."
I scratch at the back of my neck trying to drive away the feeling I'm having of Laura reaching out from her grave to pat me on the back. "One time, she woke me up in the middle of the night because she wanted to make sandcastle cookies for all the B&B guests. She kept me up all night making them, and when we were done she decided we needed to go to San Francisco to find a new front door." I swallow and my hand finally drops from the back of my neck. "We didn't go back home for a week. She took us all around the state of California to find the perfect door. When we finally got back my grandfather acted like we had never even been gone."
So yeah, the signs that my grandmother was bipolar were there. I didn't recognize what it was when I was living through it, and almost pathetically I didn't see the same things in myself as I got older. Then again, I didn't know it wasn't normal, the way I felt. I saw how extreme things could be, but it's not like I really understood it.
Being removed from the whole environment, that's what really changed things for me. Laura didn't get that chance, and I'm not so sure that she wanted it. I don't think she wanted to change who she was or what she did. She was happy with it, I think. It did something for her that it could never do for me.
So when I got the chance to change, I did. I committed myself to taking the medicine that could very well have long-lasting side effects on me. I committed to the therapy and I committed to be honest to the people around me about how it was I was actually doing.
I made the effort to change, because I knew I had to. I knew that if I wanted to keep my family, and keep my sanity, and most importantly, I knew that if I didn't want to be Laura Sidle then I would have to change. I would have to do all the things she never did to get better.
"I'm sorry, Mel."
Her apology genuinely surprises me. She doesn't control heredity. I don't think anyone can control that yet. "It's not your fault, Mom." I may not have realized that a while ago, but I do realize it now.
"If I was around, I could have gotten you help sooner." She pauses for a moment then adds, "Maybe I could have helped Mom too."
"Laura never wanted help." I know I'm right about this. "She didn't want to change. She had years to try and do it and I never ever saw her try once. And as far as I go, you and Catherine were there when I needed you to be. I think that's plainly obvious because I'm still alive."
"It's not that simple."
"But it should be." I won't give up on this. It took me a long time to get to this simple understanding. Apparently Mom just hasn't gotten there yet. "We're all okay."
She swallows a couple of times and I know another argument against my simple logic is forming in her mind, but it doesn't matter what she can come up with. I reach out for her and put my hand on her thigh. "We've still got a lot of shit to get through," There's no denying that. "But we're all still okay."
Her right hand drops from the steering wheel and she covers my hand with hers. She squeezes my hand and I just now notice that my hand was shaking. Her grip steadies it and once again I'm overcome with thankfulness that I'm sitting in this car with her and that I'm not alone.
It's a long drive between Las Vegas and Tomales Bay. When it's all over it will have taken us close to ten hours just to make this trip. So that's almost ten hours she and I will have been alone in this car with nothing to do but face each other.
My cell phone might have been ringing a lot. We've got people worried about us because they don't really understand what we're doing, but they don't need to understand. I don't think they could understand just what ten hours of time between my mother and me actually means.
It's ten hours that we both probably thought we'd never get to have, simply because when we started out we were so torn up and torn apart that even the idea of two hours or one hour seemed impossible. But now, now we can take ten hours together and wish for more. We can sit together existing in a relationship I thought I'd never get a chance at.
"I think I could play the tambourine," she whispers to me. "I'd look sexy playing the tambourine."
"We could be an acoustic jazz band," I suggest, my own smile reappearing.
"An acoustic jazz band that doesn't know the lyrics to their own songs," Mom adds.
"We'll be the most famous jazz band in the world."
"Or the most pathetic."
"And that's exactly what will make us famous."
Mom and I both laugh.
Continued...