Part 9
Chapter 17
To say I was surprised to see Nikki's weighted gaze looking over me when I woke up would be an unnecessary lie. I may have promised myself to wake up first, but I'm used to breaking promises I have made to myself.
"Why didn't you wake me up?" Nikki asks me, not giving my mind much time to wake up to the reality it had so recently sought refuge from.
I don't answer her. Instead, I straighten in my seat then move my body across the center console that separates us. She looks confused at my actions, but allows me to settle onto her lap. She doesn't protest when I bring my hands to her face and gently run my fingers down the soft frown she's presenting to me.
Her gaze stays locked on mine and I find that the words I have for her aren't necessary at all. So, I lean down and kiss her, happy to feel her lips moving against mine. When I feel her starting to pull away from me, I push myself further into her, not yet ready to let her escape from this. Her body relaxes against me and I can feel her hands creeping up my back urging me to close whatever space between us that has managed to remain.
A fierce knock on the passenger window acts as the catalyst for our bodies to slowly pull apart. I allow my eyes to focus on Nikki's for what seems like a full minute before I even bother to look out the window. Nikki's eyes follow mine and I feel her body become rigid underneath me.
The recognition that washes through me at the sight of the woman standing outside of the car is only granted to me by the remarkable physical similarities this stranger shares with Nikki. I reach over and unlock the doors, not seeing the point in rolling down the window. I push open the car door and carefully remove myself from Nikki's lap.
The woman's eyes rake over my body, measuring me up against a scale that I know will never allow me to be proven worthy. I give her a slight nod, acknowledging her. The woman looks past me, perhaps even completely through me, straight to Nikki. "You know your whores aren't allowed here."
I've been called worse by people who are worse, but those words weren't meant to affect me. They were meant to rest solely on Nikki, to affect her.
Nikki takes her time stepping out of the car, each move deliberate and measured. Her arms wrap around my waist from behind and I can feel her push her body into my back. "The only whore I see standing in front of me," her words drop off abruptly, giving her audience's brain a chance to finish her words before she does, "is you, Mom."
The woman standing before me stiffens. Her eyes flutter briefly and when they refocus on their target, I'm exposed to a look of determined coldness that I've had the privilege to spar with before, only difference is that it wasn't this woman wearing it then. "Do you need money, Nicole?"
Nikki's arms tighten around me. "I'm not here to be bought off again."
An imagined scene of Nikki standing before this woman, asking for money in exchange for her disappearance, floods through my head. I try to imagine what Nikki would have said to her parents. I wonder if her parents knew she would use whatever they gave her to cushion an unhealthy addiction. Did they even care that she was slowly killing herself or was it too much for them to pretend she was their child and hurting?
"Then why even come?" There's finality in the words that I know must hurt Nikki more than I can even understand right now. "What possible reason could you have?"
Nikki's arms drop from around my waist. She's done using me as her shield, because she steps from behind me and captures a position in front of her mother. "How can you even ask me that? How dare you even ask me that?
Eyes that are so much different than Nikki's seek me out and rake themselves over my body, as if silently asking me if this moment is for real. They want to know if Nikki is really standing in front of them, but I'm not the one to be asked anything. I'm just the whore who brought Nikki back. I give Nikki's mother no answers. She needs to seek them out on her own because I'll give her nothing.
"Let's go inside, Nicole" Her mother looks around us. It's too early in the morning for anyone to start paying attention to what is happening in the middle of the street outside of their homes. We're not making a scene, but if she wanted us to I wouldn't mind. The curses I have ready to unleash on this woman would love the opportunity to humiliate her in front of people who probably have no idea the sins she has committed against the sole person I believe has unhindered access to my soul.
She turns her back on us and starts leading us towards a home I've never been invited into before. Nikki doesn't hesitate to follow her mother; she walks with purpose to the door. She's committed herself to let this moment play out and I am in no position to offer my protests now. I'm sure Nikki wouldn't mind if I asked to stay outside, but I don't feel like being that cowardly today. I can save it for another day when Nikki isn't the one in need of my support.
So, with a less determined gait, I make my way to the door. Nikki waits for me at the threshold. I don't know if that's because she can't cross it without me, or if it's because she wanted to make sure I could make the short journey to the door. Her eyes carefully follow the movements of my muscles, probably making sure I'm okay to walk through the open door with her.
I offer her the best smile of encouragement I have within me. We're treading into waters I don't have much experience swimming in, outside of offering the odd word of encouragement or two to someone playing basketball. I've done more cheerleading than actual standing tall as someone else's support beam. Hopefully, Nikki will forgive me if what I offer isn't enough.
She takes my hand, curling her fingers around mine as she leans over and presses a kiss against the side of my lips. "Thank you," she whispers as she pulls away.
Once again, I offer her nothing but a faltering smile. I don't know what to say, hoping that my stepping into the house with her says enough.
"Your father won't be happy about this," the woman spews her hate in my direction once again. I must look like an easy target to her, much like I must have looked to Laura Sidle.
"He can rot in Hell for all I care," Nikki answers, and I couldn't agree more with her. I silently hope that her father isn't in the house right now. I'm not sure what I'll do if and when I meet him, not after the pain he's put Nikki through. I've been through a lot, more than I even fully want to admit to myself. My father raped my mother, and that's all sorts of fucked up, but Nikki's father raped
her.
If I do get my chance to meet him, we just might have to gather the family around to cover up a murder. I'm sure I could find a way to talk Catherine and Mom into going along with it. I couldn't have any better accomplices even if I tried. Two CSI agents and a police officer against the word of a woman who knowingly stayed silent while her daughter was attacked in her own home, I'm sure we'd win that fight.
Nikki's mother takes a step away from us despite not really being that close in the first place. Her eyes widen as they are focused on me, and I have a feeling that she must see I'm no longer the easy target she mistakenly took me for. Her eyes return to her daughter, "What is it you want Nicole?"
Before Nikki has a chance to answer, the one person I wished wasn't here shows up. He stops mid-stride, obviously surprised by his current view. Nikki immediately puts her hand against my arm and casually places herself behind me, allowing her hand to drop down to my waist as soon as she's fully behind me.
"Nicole?" he asks, still not moving. His eyes are forced to roam over us both, not able to look at one without looking at the other.
Nikki pulls me into her body, putting more distance between her father and me. I'm almost positive she does this for my benefit.
"Dad."
He straightens up and I mimic his action. He's not a very tall man, doesn't look too imposing. I've seen scarier men in my life, interacted with them even.
I try to take a step forward, but the soft restraint against my waist stops me. So, I smirk at him instead. Doing my best to let him know that I know I'm bigger than him, and that he is weak and pathetic. I've fought bigger and stronger; I took down Laura Sidle.
"Is there something you need?" He asks me, although I'm sure he's not actually talking to me. We don't know each other. We probably would have never met if not for our joint connection to Nikki.
"I'm off the drugs." I take my eyes away from Nikki's father to look at her. She's scared, terrified. I'm not even sure that I've ever inspired such raw genuine emotion from her. To the people who know her in Vegas, seeing her like this wouldn't make sense to them. Nikki is self-assured. Her insecurities rest close to her and are never open for public viewing. She faces down the worst of Las Vegas and I'm told she does it with ease. She always stands strong and firm, always ready to fend off anyone who would look to hurt her as her father did. But here, now, in front of this insignificant man, she's terrified.
I've been told that Nikki and I share a lot of characteristics. Maybe it's because of that, I understand that for Nikki's her father is her Laura Sidle. I haven't even put a lot of thought towards facing Laura Sidle's grave. The fear from the very idea of it pushes me away from considering it too long. In the end, I may have conquered Laura Sidle, but it broke me. It left me broken, and I'd probably still be that way without Nikki as my solid ground.
"That's good, Nicole," her father doesn't sound proud but I don't think Nikki was aiming to make him proud.
"You were wrong. I was able survive without you," she tells him, her voice shaking slightly but the words staying clear.
His eyes narrow slightly. "I'm glad you're doing better." Again, he doesn't sound too proud. "What is it you want from me?"
Briefly I wonder if I had been given a chance to talk to my grandparents again if I would take it. Would I put myself through this? Would their words be the same towards me as Nikki's parents' are towards her? Would they act like I was the one that had wronged them?
I don't have the answers, and I won't ever get them. I won't ever have an opportunity, nightmare, like this open for me to take, but Nikki does have it. This is her moment, where she can yell and scream her rage and feelings of injustice at them. She can show them she's not the child they created, but the woman she fought and strained to become.
Her father doesn't need to be proud of her. His pride doesn't matter, but mine does, and I am proud of her. I'm overwhelmingly proud of her. I've seen her change from the strung out woman I met at some party to the incredible force of life that helps keep me alive.
"You failed to break me." Nikki must find some more courage buried inside of her to bring out, because she breaks her hold on me and closes the distance between her and her father. "And I'm not going to let you get the chance to try and break anyone else." She starts reading him his Miranda rights, and I don't know who in this room is more surprised at hearing them.
A quick glance over at her mother lets me know the woman is too frozen to even begin to protest. She doesn't even look like she's breathing, and doesn't look like she's going to try and do anything anytime soon. This must be a familiar sensation for her then. She has to be used to rolling over and playing dead by now. She got a lot of practice at it while Nikki was being raped by that putrid man.
Some overly rational part of my brain kicks in and wants me to share with Nikki that her arrest won't count in court. Nikki is out of her jurisdiction, and I'm pretty sure that there's something on the books about arresting one's own father. Everything that Nikki is doing now: her pushing her father against a wall and searching him, her asking him about guns and narcotics, none of it is for real. This is all for nothing. It won't hold up in court, but I'm pretty sure that seeing her father looking so scared, pathetic, and small right now is worth the charges being dismissed.
I maintain my silence and am only broken out of it when I finally notice Nikki's mother taking some sort of action. She's reached out for the phone and she's calling 911. I see no real point in stopping her. Nikki's father is probably has some overly expensive lawyer and I'm sure he won't let Nikki making him look like a complete fool go. His past doesn't speak towards his favor in being able to let his humiliation slide.
Nikki hears her mother on the phone and turns towards her. She doesn't seem too bothered by the prospect of local officers showing up on her parents' doorstep. She returns her attention to her father, who she now has in cuffs. She grabs onto his right arm and pushes him towards the front door. Realizing her intent, I hurry and re-open the front door so that she can effectively push him out of it.
It only takes a few moments for the local police to arrive, and when they do, Nikki has her father sitting on his own porch with cuffs on, face red with anger, and pride fully impaired. Unfortunately, before Nikki can fully explain the situation, her mother starts screaming about how Nikki and I attacked her husband. Next thing I know, I'm put in cuffs and I'm being asked to explain what's happened. I don't open my mouth; Nikki's the one that needs to tell this story.
The officers give Nikki her chance and she explains to them pretty much everything there is to say. She tells them that her father raped her as a child and that it was about time he was arrested for it. They ask her if she really does want to press charges, if they can even do it. Nikki looks at me.
I can't tell her what to do. My revenge towards my abuser led me to a much darker place than where this can ever go. It'd be hard, though, going through a trial. We'd have to stay in California until things were settled. Chances are that Nikki wouldn't even get a conviction. So much time has passed and there are too many holes in Nikki's story to make a solid case.
"Let him go," she tells the officers. "I'm finished with him."
They ask her if she's sure, she says that she is, then asks them to take the cuffs I've had on me for the last ten minutes. They take mine off before they take off Nikki's father's. Nikki once again walks up to me placing her arms around my body. She doesn't say anything, I'm not sure she even has anything left to say. I know that I wouldn't. Well, I might find something to say to her mother for spinning a really tall tale to the police, but Nikki and I are different in a lot of ways too.
As soon as her father is released, he goes back into his home. He doesn't look over at Nikki and doesn't even look over at his wife who so readily leapt to his defense, when she couldn't even find it in her to leap to her daughter's. I don't know why I'm so affected by the lack of her mother's actions. My mother… I mean my grandmother, wasn't really that supportive of me. I'm used to seeing parents not protecting their children.
Nikki's mother turns to us. "Hopefully you came and got what you wanted, Nicole." This doesn't sound like a reprimand. It almost sounds genuine, disturbingly genuine. It sounds like there's hope for something to grow from this, if Nikki wants to start planting any seeds.
I let those seeds be planted with my biological father, someone I haven't even bothered to think about in any detail these last couple of days. The long conversation I had with Mom about her choosing to be my mother didn't even spur me to think about the man who proudly calls me his daughter and I ashamedly call my biological father. The seeds that have been planted between us really haven't gone anywhere, and I wasn't even there to suffer his abuse. I didn't have to stare him in the face.
Nikki got to stare at her mother, though. She got to look right at her while everything was happening. I guess it's almost equivalent to me forgiving my grandfather for sitting by and letting Laura abuse me. I don't think I could do it.
Again, I feel arms dropping from around me and Nikki moving from behind me. I don't turn to see what she's doing because I don't trust the woman standing in front of us. I'm not entirely sure she won't try and get me arrested again.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Nikki's arm thrust forward. In her hand is what looks like a receipt. "This is my number and address," Nikki says as her mother tentatively reaches out for the slick crumbled paper. "If you want to use either one of them, you're welcome to. I live in Las Vegas with Mel now."
Her mother's eyes capture mine as soon as Nikki's words have ended. "Mel."
Nikki turns back to me, clearly unsure of what I'm going to do now that my name has passed over her mother's lips. I immediately push back the disgust that hearing her voice address me causes. Some part of me will have to find sympathy for this woman simply because Nikki has already offered up her own. I've always believed Nikki to be a much stronger and better person than I am, so I guess it's time I let her inspire me to be better, too. "Mrs. Andreason."
I don't know what saying that woman's name is an admission to, but Nikki's gaze is thankful that I made that small effort. Her mother gives me a slight nod then turns away from us both. She walks back to her house into the anger that is surely waiting there for her.
The police officers that have hung around are now readying to go. I was sort of hoping I could have watched them drag Nikki's father away, but I'll support Nikki's decision. This is her past to settle. She starts back to my car and I follow her. I settle myself back into the driver's seat allowing Nikki the pleasure of staring out the window as we pass the scenery by, and give her the chance to do all the deep analytical thinking that seems to plague me with every action that I take. It's my turn to offer once more, my continued silence.
Chapter 18
As I shut off the car's engine in the hotel's parking lot, I'm ashamed to admit even to myself that I don't want to see my family. I don't want to face Mom or Catherine. I don't even want to pretend to be happy that Lindsey is around either. All I want, all I feel I even need right now, is to let Nikki curl up into my arms. I just want to try and convince her that everything that just happened with her parents actually meant something more than the pain I've seen residing inside of her during our entire drive back to this place.
She needs to know that it meant something, even though I'm not sure what that something is. I'm almost positive that it's connected to personal growth and conquering demons, but I wouldn't know how to explain it. I don't understand it, not really. It's still a new concept for me.
"Do you think I should have given my mother my phone number?" Nikki hasn't made a move to exit the car, and there's no way I'm going to try and get out first. She's the one that's going to have to tell me it's okay to go back to what's waiting for us inside of the hotel.
Right now, she seems like she's not ready for that. She is, however, ready to talk about what's just happened, so it's my turn to consider her words and offer her what answers I can. I actually have to think about whether I would, under any circumstance, have offered Nikki's mother a phone number that was actually real, and deep down I know that I wouldn't have. But, there is that possibility that I hate Nikki's mother more than she does. I was never misled into believing that I needed to love her. Hate is the first thing I've ever felt for Nikki's mother and I suspect that it will also be the last.
"I don't think I should answer that."
Nikki finally turns away from the passenger side window and looks at me. "Do you remember when Laura got sick that one time?"
I nod; already not liking the way Nikki is going to use my own past to justify her current actions. I'd rather just think that the two things are separate and can never relate. It's easier to defend my actions when someone else isn't trying to use my own misguided rationale.
"You didn't have to care for her," Nikki tells me softly. "You could have let her suffer until she died and I'm not sure your grandfather would have even cared."
He didn't care. I think a part of him wanted to see my grandmother gone for good. There had to be some part of him that wanted to escape from the cycle that we had all been stuck in for too long already. He was ready to let go, but I, foolishly, held on. It's not something I've decided that I regret, not yet; especially since it turns out I was responsible for her death anyway.
"I'd watch you caring for her," Nikki reaches over and lays her hand over mine, "and all I wanted to do every time you left the room was smother her with a pillow."
I'm too surprised to not laugh at her confession. I thought she was going to say something about my compassion and inability to turn my back on the woman who had tortured me for my whole life. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be laughing."
"No," Nikki squeezes my hand, a smile finally able to reappear on her face again, "you should laugh."
I bow my head, somewhat ashamed with what I'm going to tell her. "I thought about smothering her too, or poisoning her soup. Part of me really hoped that the pneumonia would kill her. I didn't really want her to survive."
"Neither did I," Nikki softly admits. "If I was sure that no part of you loved her at all, then I probably would have killed her for what she did to you."
I open my mouth to protest Nikki's claim at me ever caring for my grandmother, but the fingers she puts against my lips lets me know my denial would be ignored. "I only tolerated Laura Sidle's existence because she meant something to you. That's the only reason I tolerated your grandfather's as well." She drops her fingers from my lips and is now looking at me expectantly.
Okay, so her point has been made. She knows I hate her mother and wants a real answer to her question. "Then in that case, I think there might be a slim chance for you to reconnect with your mother. I saw something in her eyes." Nikki accepts my answer with a slight nod. It seems like I've been able to confirm something for her. "But what I saw," I add with a smirk, making it clear to Nikki that I'm only joking, "could have been her leftover joy at trying to have me arrested."
"I wouldn't say it's not possible." Nikki took my comment a lot more seriously than I intended. I thought it was okay that I hated her mother. "She called you a whore."
"But she said that I'm your whore," I grab onto her hand, "so that makes everything better."
She tries to fight it, but a smile does manage to creep back onto her face. She shakes her head a little, then releases a heavy sigh. "I can't believe we even went to see them."
That's what it's supposed to be like isn't it? I'm still trying to believe that I talked my mother into getting in a car to come back to California. "But it was worth it," I say softly. "You do know that don't you? It was important."
"Yeah," Nikki's voice catches, "I know."
"Good." I lean forward and press a soft kiss against her lips. When I pull away and look back into her eyes, I can tell that she's pushing all the high-emotion away from the forefront of her mind. I wish I could tell her to not push it away and to not bury it deep down, but I know that she has to. She has to be able to function, and letting the pain run loose in her head would hinder that.
We both have to be able to walk into the hotel.
"Are you ready to go inside?" she asks me, even though it's probably me who should be asking her that question.
"If we don't go in, then eventually they would come out." I'm surprised no one has even tried to call us yet. We had told them we would be going out, but I'm sure they didn't expect for us to be gone the entire night and well into the next morning.
Nikki pulls away from me and opens the car door. Part of me resents her actions, but once again she's just helping to push me in a direction I need to go anyway. We can't sit in the car forever, and I'm not insane enough to try and run away.
We get out of the car, and walk back to the hotel room that had been reserved for us. When we walk into the room, Catherine is sitting on the solitary bed with Lindsey and they are watching something on the television. Catherine looks over Nikki and me, probably checking for any obvious ailments or injuries. "You could have called," she says, although it doesn't sound as harsh as it probably could. She's giving us some leeway and consideration.
"Mom said if you were gone another hour she was going to call the police," Lindsey helpfully informs us. "I told her that if the police knew where you were it was because you probably got arrested."
"Lindsey," Catherine warns her daughter.
"Well," Nikki smirks at Catherine, "Mel almost was arrested."
Accusing eyes look straight at me. "What did you do?"
"I didn't do anything," I quickly defend myself.
"Didn't attack someone did you?" Lindsey's interest is now solely on me instead of the television. "You've been arrested for that before," she helpfully adds.
"What happened?" Catherine asks, obviously intent on hearing an answer.
"We went to see my parents," Nikki starts to explain but doesn't get a chance to finish because Catherine is off the bed within a millisecond and making her way towards us asking me if I attacked Nikki's parents. "No, she didn't," Nikki answers for me. "It's a long story," she uncomfortably scratches at her face, "but…things worked out."
Worked out? That's a gross over-generalization that I don't think I could have even come up with as an explanation of what happened this morning. My description would probably tend to float somewhere in the realm of, 'don't wanna talk about it', which I could only hope Catherine would accept as an answer, and she probably wouldn't. So perhaps, it's best that Nikki has opted to do the explaining for now.
"I didn't think you were going to do that," Catherine doesn't seem too happy with Nikki's revelation either. Maybe I should have tried explaining it my way. "We talked about this." She spares a quick glance at me, her eyes full of concern. She looks like she has more to say, but just doesn't want to say it because I'm standing in the room.
From what little Nikki has told me about her trip here with Catherine and Lindsey, there seems to have been a few warnings Catherine gave about how Nikki should interact with me. She's put herself out as an expert on me and my reactions, but I don't think she is. I think there's a possibility that she's confused me for my mother. I'm not so stupid as to not see our similarities. This time I've been spending with her here has only highlighted them even more for me. I see my mother's insecurities and can see them reflected in me. But it's not right for Catherine to mistake me for my mother. We're still two separate people, our actions and responses independent of the other's.
"Nikki and I talked about it too," I stand up just a little bit taller, needing my greater physical presence to supplement my weaker internal fortitude. "We, together, decided to do it."
Defiant isn't a word that I think Catherine would normally use to describe my attitude towards her. It's my relationship with Mom that reeks with defiance, but I am being defiant now. My posture suggests it, and so does the tone of my voice. Catherine doesn't miss these signals, because she steps back from me, places her hands on her hips, and looks more than ready for battle.
Seeing her like this, makes me wonder how Lindsey can keep up her constant will to contend almost all of her mother's rules. I remember the first time Catherine actually told me to do something. I think it was over something as trivial as putting on sweats over my basketball uniform. I did it because I was shocked she was telling me to do something, at least, that's how I rationalized it at the time but it was more than just shock. Plenty of people have tried, and failed, to get me to do trivial things, but what made it different coming from Catherine was that some part of me trusted her with my welfare. I always have trusted her with it. I probably gave it to her during my plane ride to Las Vegas. I needed to give it to someone and Mom didn't fit the bill at the time.
I don't know why I felt compelled to give that trust away, but I did, and I realize now that I never did quite manage to give that to Mom. That's why I can stand in front of my mother, full of defiant outrage and arrogant righteousness, and that's perhaps why now I feel about two feet tall trying to do the same in front of Catherine.
Turns out, Nikki wasn't the only one who was given the chance to collect her thoughts during the long drive back here. The silence gave me plenty of opportunity to think about more than the road ahead of me. It probably even contributed to my growing reluctance to come back to the hotel, because I couldn't pretend like I didn't understand why my mother was upset about my relationship with Catherine, especially not now that it made sense to me.
"Did you think about what could have happened?" Catherine accusingly asks me. "Did you think about what would have happened if you couldn't have handled it?"
"But Mom," the sounds of Lindsey's voice surprises me, "Mel did handle it." Her coming to my defense surprises me a little more. "I thought you trusted her."
"Lindsey," Catherine turns to her daughter, "you don't understand what's going on."
"Stop telling me that!" Lindsey jumps off of the bed and bravely steps in front of her mother. "I do understand. I've always understood."
"Lindsey," Catherine sighs out her name obviously not willing to argue about something she's apparently already made her mind up about, "there's a lot going on here and Mel isn't…"
"Mel is standing right here, Mom." Maybe Lindsey should be the one to voice my defiance to Catherine from now on. She seems to be better at it than me.
"I don't want to talk about this now," Catherine rubs at her forehead. "I'm going to go check on Sara." She walks past Nikki and me to the door, pulling it open violently and stepping through it. I consider chasing after her, but reconsider it as soon as I see Nikki making her way towards the door. She'll chase down Catherine and they can have it out over whatever they consider to be best for me.
Lindsey and I are left to stand and stare at each other. My mind quickly flashes back to the painting she did that is as a small tribute to my life. I've been her sister for a few years now, and I already understand she's a lot smarter than her mother gives her credit for at times. Mom even sees it. She and Lindsey are…close. Lindsey isn't as defiant with Mom.
"Thank you." I'd like to say more, but since I'm a little shocked right now, I'd probably only manage to say words that make no sense. 'Thank' and 'you' are easy words that my tongue doesn't have problems with forcing out clearly.
Lindsey shrugs as she shifts her stance and turns her gaze to the floor. "You're my big sister. I have to stand up for you, y'know?"
No, I don't know. I don't understand it at all. It's too foreign for me to understand, but that doesn't mean I don't appreciate it. Even if I don't think that I fully deserve it. But perhaps I could start earning it. "So, how are you doing? I mean, this is all sort of crazy isn't it?"
Lindsey rolls her eyes. "Mom's been freaking out. I think she's about to blow her top."
"Yeah," I rub at the back of my neck, trying to wipe away a bit of the tension that's forming in my muscles, "some of that is probably my fault."
"Mom slept in here with me last night, Mel," Lindsey confesses. "She didn't stay with Sara."
I'm betting that it's safe for me to assume that Catherine stayed with Lindsey not so much because she was worried about Lindsey sleeping alone, but because she couldn't sleep with Mom. "There's a lot going on with them."
Lindsey uncomfortably shifts her stance again. "How do we help them?"
The raw anguish in her voice triggers me to move forward. I wrap my arms around her smaller frame and pull her towards me, taking an action I should have taken a long time ago. Part of me thinks that last night I should have made the effort and stayed around to make sure that Lindsey was okay. I knew that she was alone here, with no one emotionally capable of seeing to her emotional well-being. We all walked away from her, turned our heads and covered our eyes.
"There's nothing we can do, Lindsey," I whisper. "It's up to them."
Lindsey pushes herself away from me. She looks angry. "You're just going to give up? I thought you actually cared about us!"
Whoa. I thought that me caring had already been established earlier in this conversation. The hug was supposed to reinforce my caring and concern. "I do care Lindsey, but I don't control them."
"You kept them together before," she softly tells me, "even if you don't know you did it."
"What are you talking about?"
"They were fighting before you came," she confesses, "but stopped when you showed up."
I run both my hands through my hair and release a heavy sigh. "I don't think they ever stopped, Linds. I just think they hid it better." Lindsey turns away from me, but I won't let that stop me from telling her the truth. "I think they were probably afraid that if I overheard them fighting then it would make things worse for me. They would just give me something else to be angry about, and I was already angry enough."
"But they stayed together for you," Lindsey argues, her back still turned. "They won't do that for me."
Fuck. I just feel like I've been shot in the chest and stabbed in the back at the same time. I take a look around us, more than a little uncomfortable with the fact that we're still the only two people in this room. It's time for someone else to take over this conversation, and lead it around to a positive one that can end in smiles and hugs. Shouldn't Catherine be standing here making sure that her daughter feels worth something? Mom and Lindsey have a close relationship, where's Mom now? Why am I standing here alone, completely unprepared and helpless? Why can't I be better?
"You should be thankful they won't do it for you." All I have to offer right now is the truth. "It's like they forced themselves to stay together to fucking fix me." I probably shouldn't be cursing, but she's old enough to hear it. "Things were so mixed up that they even thought about separating just to make things better for me. They were desperate, Lindsey. They didn't know what to do. It's good that they're trying to do things for themselves instead of for me, because having their lives rest on my shoulders has been a lot of fucking pressure!"
Lindsey turns back around to face me. There are tears in her eyes. "What?"
"You were just witness to it, Lindsey." I gesture my right hand around and eventually point at the door behind me. "Everything that our parents do is dependent on whether I'm sinking or swimming that day. If I'm just a little bit outside of being okay then everything stops." I take a few deep breaths, unwilling to lose control. "You see it Lindsey, because you just stood up against it."
"Mel," she starts walking towards me but I take a step back.
"I'm afraid," I stumble over my words. "I wake up every day afraid that I won't be able to help keep this family alive, because if I falter everyone else follows me." If I could be a superhero, I'd try to save me from myself. I shouldn't have said any of this to Lindsey. I should have just stood firm and told her that everything was going to be okay. That's probably all she really needed and all that she was seeking. I should have given her that.
Lindsey crosses her arms in front of her and I can see that her hands are shaking. She's not letting her tears fall, but I can see them ready to, straining to be released. "Do you remember when I snuck out of the house to go to a party and you chased after me?"
"Of course," I smile. It was the first time I was able to go out on my own in a while to solve a problem without anyone looking over my shoulder. I didn't have a lot of confidence in me succeeding, but I did. I held it together to get Lindsey back.
"After I told Mom about it she and Sara told me that what I had done was dangerous," she tightens her arms around herself, "and then they grounded me. They never really explained to me what was going on with you."
"It was really hard to explain," I don't know why I'm defending them. Especially after the long confession I just gave to Lindsey about the pressures they've put on me-unknowingly hopefully.
"You explained it to me," Lindsey looks away from me. "You always explained things to me. You'd even talk to me about my dad." Where is she going with this? Are we still arguing? Were we ever arguing? "That's why I trust you to help Mom."
"Help her what?" I thought I just got through making my point that I can't fix Catherine's relationship with my mother.
"Help her survive losing Sara." Lindsey's plea is so genuine that I'm not sure she's not talking to someone else.
Once again, I breach the distance between me and my sister. I wrap my arms around her and don't let her refuse my hold. Her arms drop down between us, but eventually they worm themselves around my body. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that," Let's more than hope, because I'm not so sure that I'll be able to prove that Lindsey's trust in me was well placed.
"I'm glad you're here," she whispers into my shoulder as she squeezes her arms around me cutting off my flow of oxygen just a little.
I choose not to point out to her that I'm the one that everyone was coming here to rescue. This is my chance to do what I should have done before. "Things will work out." I'm at least sure that things between Nikki and me are going to move in the right direction. I'm even feeling more secure about my relationship with Lindsey. I'm completely lost when it comes to Mom and Catherine, but this doesn't need to be voiced. Now's not the time to let Lindsey in on the well known secret, that I'm really just a stranded soul doing the best I can to not fall back into Hell, now that I've been pulled out of it. She doesn't need to know that I'm terrified, that if Catherine falls apart she'll take the rest of us down with her.
Continued...