Part 8

Chapter 36

When they took me back to Catherine's house there wasn't a welcome home party waiting for me. I didn't get balloons and a cake. There were no 'I'm glad you're feeling better' wishes. When I got back, the house was empty and silent. Catherine was carrying my bag and we walked into a dark house that felt purposely abandoned.

Nikki ran away as soon as we stepped through the door and Catherine and I were left alone. My brain might really be messed up but I'm not exactly brain damaged. I can smell a set up when it comes out and smacks me on the back of the head.

"So what's going on?" Catherine's been staring at me probably waiting for me to say something to her, what with the ominous silence we got sucked into.

"We wanted to give you some time to get settled." That answer sounds a little over-practiced. She must have gone in front of the mirror and prepared for this moment.

I throw the small and only bag Catherine and Nikki allowed me to carry on the floor. "I'm settled so everyone can come back now."

For some reason I expect a deranged clown of some sort or maybe a vampire to jump out of the darkness. There are things going on here that I'm not so much following, and crazy things jumping out of the shadows would almost make sense right now. At least, it would make more sense than Catherine's attitude at the moment. I'm back and well, it should be a room full of happy, right?

"They're giving us time." It sounds like some kind of confession from Catherine, but whatever it is she's confessing to, I still don't get.

"Time for what?" Something is happening and crazy little me is not in the loop.

Catherine keeps her distance from me even though she seems she wants to approach me. We haven't gotten that far into the house and we both keep looking at the closed and locked door. Though, Catherine's probably looking at it so much because I'm practically staring a hole through it.

"We've debated whether or not to tell you this, but I don't think we could avoid it."

I don't want to know. I've decided because I think I feel another flashback coming on. The doctors said they had a higher chance of reappearing when I was under a lot of stress. They say the stress makes my brain do funny things.

Catherine puts aside whatever it is keeping her away from me and puts a soft hand on my arm. "We found your biological father."

"My what?"

"What you did," Catherine looks at my arms and I know she wants to stop talking but she's the only one here to explain what's been happening, "it made the news, Mel. He saw you. He came to the hospital."

"He who?"

"Sara recognized him when she saw him in the emergency room."

"Him who?"

"He donated his blood to help save you, since you lost so much."

"He what?" I don't like that idea at all. He's not entitled to save my life, and couldn't they have waited to tell me this when I was settled. Why is it so important for me to know this right now?

"Sara wasn't sure she could get through telling you this, but she wants you to call her when you can. If you want to."

I look down at the bandages that still cover my arms. This whole situation is really messed up. "So why tell me this? Why ever tell me this?" Maybe it's okay for them to have secrets.

"He wants to meet you."

"And you support that?" I don't believe that either of them support even entertaining the idea.

Catherine shakes her head. "We don't like the idea at all, but it's not our decision to make. It's yours."

"Why didn't you tell me about this when I was in the hospital?" Like when I was tied down and drugged out of my mind and had close access to drugs that could make me forget we ever had a conversation like this.

"We thought you could handle it better when you got out."

I wonder if better is actually supposed to be euphemism for more stable. I don't think I'm all that stable right now. There's no way I'd be making bets in my favor at the moment.

"You couldn't have waited a little while to tell me. A month would have been good, maybe a year or ten."

"I'm sorry," Catherine releases a heavy sigh. "We can't wait. He's threatened to go to the courts if we don't let him see you."

There's something terribly wrong with that. "Why isn't he in jail?" That is where he belongs isn't it?

"The statue of limitations ran out," Catherine doesn't sound too happy about that.

"So what?" I'm really at a loss here. "Do I start running around calling him Daddy or something?"

"Don't do anything you don't want to."

I should have stayed in the hospital. That seems to be what would be best. "I want to talk to Sara." I step away from Catherine and her hand falls from my arm. "I won't make a decision until I talk to her."

Catherine nods and pulls out her cell phone. I don't think I've ever seen her without her phone. What would she do without it?

It doesn't matter. There are other things floating around that I can think about. I move over to the sofa and take a seat. My arms have started to hurt but I'm thinking that's not only because of what I did to them. They're throbbing. The blood is pushing through my veins and it hurts, because it's not my blood. It's my fathers. Type O. He must be type O. That's what I am.

"She's going to come over," Catherine is standing in front of me.

"She should have been here in the first place." I can't be convinced otherwise.

In her constant defense of my mother, Catherine takes a seat next to me and opens her mouth to defend Sara once again. "You're right, she should have."

I wasn't expecting that at all. That didn't sound so much like a defense.

"But it's really hard for her, Mel. I don't know if you could imagine it." There's the defense I was expecting.

"Cause I've never been raped?" My body's been used just like Sara's. Maybe rape wouldn't be the right word, but sometimes it sure felt like it.

Catherine shakes her head. "No, because you've never been a parent."

I'm not sure how that fits either. "And that means?"

Catherine lowers her head and stares down at her lap. "That means you've never feared the loss of a child."

Well that's obvious.

"Sara fears losing you, Melinda. We both do."

She still should have been here. She should have been the one to tell me. When she shows up I'll tell her that. Then, I'll have no choice but to get over it because there are bigger things going on.

My father, who by all counts is a real asshole, wants to meet me. He wanted to help save my life, apparently. So why did irony have him watching the early morning news when they reported some crazy girl losing it? And more importantly how the hell did he know I was his daughter? Did Sara fill him in on that part? All this time, did he know I existed?

What happened while I was asleep? For that matter what happened while I was in the hospital? What has happened while I've been losing my mind?

Because right at this moment I'm starting to feel like recovering my sanity might not be in my best interest.



Chapter 37

When Sara walks through the door I'm ready for her. I've got everything I want to say planned out and I'm prepared for a long and loud argument. But I don't yell at her. I don't shout and I don't say any of the things that I've been running through my head as the best things to say.

She walks in and I look at her and she looks horrible. There are bags under her eyes, she looks thinner, paler, and almost completely worn out. Sara is a direct reflection of what I feel and possibly what I look like. Neither of us seems to be real healthy these days.

Why didn't I notice her appearance before at the hospital? She was there every day. I just saw her yesterday. I looked at her. I saw her.

I look at Catherine and she doesn't look any better off than Sara or me.

"So what's been going on?" I've missed a lot.

My legs didn't propel me up in anger when Sara came in. My body didn't do much of anything. That probably surprised Catherine and Sara. I'm feisty, right? I'm supposed to get angry and loud. I'm not supposed to ask a question calmly.

Later we can attribute all of that to the myriad of drugs they have me on. It's the anti-depressant, the mood stabilizer, the painkiller, the anti-inflammatory, the antibiotic. It's not me handling this with some speck of ease. It couldn't be me.

"How much do you remember?"

Well Sara just asked the million dollar question didn't she? How much do I remember? What has decided to stick in my brain and what's gone away again?

"Everything is still fuzzy." I remember cutting my hands open.

"I remember going away with you both and the flashbacks." I remember more about my childhood now than I ever really wanted to remember. All that could have stayed forgotten.

"I remember what I did to Catherine," something I still feel bad about, "and going to see Nikki. She had a visitor that night." Where did Nikki run off to anyway?

"I remember getting into the ambulance but not arriving at the hospital. I remember waking up from surgery but I don't remember all of it." The last clear memory I have is looking down from the balcony at the hospital and deciding that I wanted my life.

"Sara you took off the straps." That's it. That's all of it. "So what am I missing?"

How did my biological father end up in the emergency room with me?

Sara finally sits down and does so practically in my lap. "Do you remember what happened when you first woke up after you got to the hospital?"

"No." My guess is I had already too much blood at that point. I hear consciousness is a requirement for memorization.

"He tried to see you then." Sara sounds angry. Maybe I did want to be awake for that one. Hopefully she punched him.

"He recognized Sara," Catherine fills in when I guess she thinks Sara is taking too long of a pause. "Well they recognized each other."

"I couldn't refuse his help, Melinda. You were dying. He recognized you the minute he saw you." Sara starts playing with a ring on her thumb. "You look a lot like him."

"So does he have a name?" We don't really need to get into the part where he gives me his blood. I don't need the details of that.

"Robert Gary," Sara offers slowly.

That's not too bad of a name, nothing that really stand out either. "Did you know his name before?"

Sara nods. "Went to school with him."

"So why didn't you ever press charges?" She doesn't want me to ask these questions, I can tell. All of her attention is on that ring. She's started to tap her foot on the floor. She wants to run away. I put my bandaged hand over her ring.

She looks at me. "I was too scared. Mom wouldn't support me. I couldn't do it on my own."

A part of me thinks I shouldn't ask this, but I'm going to anyway. I want to know. "So what happened exactly?"

"That's not-" Catherine starts to say but is cut off by Sara.

"Mom had just finished giving me a lesson," I know those lessons. "I ran over to a friend's house. She was having a party. I got drunk and Robert took advantage. I fought him but he was too strong."

"So you saw him in school everyday until Laura kicked you out." I can fill in a lot of the story. I know Laura. She'd have made Sara suffer as much as possible for getting pregnant even if Sara had no part in it. "He knew you were pregnant with me back then. He knew who I was and now he wants to play Daddy?"

Sara gives a derisive snort. "He says he's changed. He has a family of his own. He's older and more mature."

"His wife know what he did?" I bet she doesn't. I'm not sure that's something I'd share.

"He said she does," Catherine answers. "Neither of us have met her."

Maybe love really is completely blind. It would have to be for someone to decide to willingly marry a rapist, but what does that say about me if I want to meet him? Well I'm already crazy. I've got a good excuse.

"What do you want me to do?" I ask Sara. I'm well aware that I've been dragging her and Catherine through the depths of hell recently and I'm sort of wanting to stop that.

"What you want to do." There's a practiced answer if I've ever heard one.

"So what do you want me to do?" I want the truth.

Sara puts her hand softly on the one that is holding onto her ring. "I want you to tell him to fuck off."

That's what I want to do. "I need to know why I shouldn't do that." There has to be a reason out there why I should meet him other than him sharing his blood with me, cause that's just not doing it for me.

There's complete silence. I guess that means none of us have a good enough reason.

"He's your father and if you don't do it now, then you'll think about if for the rest of your life." Nikki says as she steps into the room with us. "He doesn't deserve that much thought from you."

That's a pretty good reason. "So how long were you listening?" I ask her knowing that she's never been one to hide away and leave things for other people to resolve on their own.

She smiles at me. "I never left."

"Okay," I release a long breath. "Then I should do this?" I ask Nikki. "I should meet him so that he doesn't go to the courts like he actually has parental rights?"

"I'll kill him before he gets any." I believe Sara's serious about that.

"Can he get any?" I'm not big on the laws of the land. I've never had experience with guardian rules. "I mean, is that legal? Would he have a case?"

"He might," Catherine answers. "By what the law says, he is your father."

The law fucking sucks. "So he wants to do this when exactly?"

"Tonight," Sara tells me. "He'll file if he doesn't get to see you tonight."

Well there's nothing like a little bit of pressure, but at least now I'm on an antidepressant. That's stopping me from going completely crazy again. The doctors say I'm clinically depressed. They also say that I'm suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder and have this other theory that I'm Bipolar. That's why they put me on Eskalith. I hear it's a lithium pill. It's supposed to control my mood swings. I think the official description of it is mood stabilizer'.

They say it's really rare for someone my age to get diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder. They say it might be linked to my special history. They say a lot of things.

"So I guess I meet him tonight."

Hopefully he doesn't expect us to have a very long conversation. I'm not thankful for him reappearing in my life. I'm not happy that he wants to meet me or that he may have ended up with a decent life. He's ultimately one of the main reasons why I was born.

I don't want to die. I know that, but I can't help but think that maybe it would have been best if I was never born. Laura wouldn't have gotten a chance to bring out the sickness in another child. It wouldn't have ended up that I basically killed her whether it was in self-defense or not. Sara would have her bliss with Catherine and all they would have to worry about would be Lindsey and their work.

I wouldn't have to go through any of this. Doctors wouldn't be telling me that I have a disorder that will last throughout my entire life. A father who is a real bastard wouldn't be asking to see me. None of this would be happening.

It doesn't sound all that unappealing, not being born.

"You really don't have to do this," Catherine lays her hand on my thigh. "We can figure something else out."

"No need." I shake my head. "If he wants one meeting, I can give him one meeting."

"He doesn't deserve that much," Nikki says having not moved from the corner she appeared from. "But you deserve at least that. You deserve to face him and yell at him as much as you want to."

"You're not going alone." Sara squeezes my hand a little and that causes a shooting pain to move up my arm. I try not to show the pain on my face. Sara doesn't need to know how much pain I'm still in. Now isn't the time for that. This is the only contact I have with her. I don't want to let that go.

"There's no way you're going alone," Nikki adds.

"I hadn't expected to be," I grin slightly. "I sorta thought Catherine and Sara would be there brandishing their guns and looking very menacing like."

"Damn straight," Catherine actually has a small grin now too. Maybe this thing with Mr. Gary won't kill us after all.

"I could dig out my leather jacket," Even Sara's willing to let go a bit now. So maybe hell isn't strong enough to keep us down.

"I wouldn't go for leather in this heat." Nikki finally moves further into the room. "I'm sure the guns will work. Do I get a gun too?"

"If she gets one then I should get one." It would only be fair.

"Neither of you are properly trained." Catherine's smiling now. "That would be very irresponsible."

I shrug. "We might not be properly' trained but that doesn't mean we don't know how to use one." Maybe that was saying too much. I would guess by the looks I'm getting from Sara and Catherine it was.

"You've used a gun before?" Sara's really starting to master that mom' tone.

"I've never used one," I quickly reply.

"But you know how to?" Catherine asks and I get a feeling of being double teamed. I don't like the feeling.

"I haven't always been surrounded by the best of crowds. A gun offered a certain amount of protection."

Catherine drops her head into the palm of her hand. "Do you still have one?"

"No." They don't need to know that I sold it to a drug dealer I knew because I needed the money. I can leave that part out and possibly tell them about it when I'm like fifty.

"What did you do with it?" Did Sara know the exact question to ask?

I shrug. "Got rid of it."

"How?" She pushes.

"Sold it."

"To who?"

She does interrogations a lot, I think. "A drug dealer. He knew me and said he'd buy it from me since I was hard up for some money. I wasn't getting a lot of monetary support at home."

They don't like it. I can tell they don't like the idea of it at all, me selling or having a gun, but what did they expect? Sara may have not stooped to that level when she was living with them, but I did. I did a lot of stuff I should have never done. I'm sure they don't want to know half of it.

"We can talk about this later," Catherine has the mom' voice mastered but she's been using it longer. "It's not important now."

That's right, it's not important now. I have to think about what I'm going to say to my father when I see him, cause I am going to see him. I'm going to be introduced to him just like I was to my mother, without a clue as to what to do and with enough anger to get me into trouble.



Chapter 38

Public places are great. They offer a certain amount of protection when danger might arise. But we're not going to meet Robert Gary in a public place. Maybe we don't believe in that kind of protection or maybe we just don't want to make a scene in public. Either way it goes, we're meeting at his house.

His wife will be there, but his kids have been taken to their grandparents' house. I guess Robert thinks that this meeting might be inappropriate for the young ones to witness. I could argue that this whole thing is a lot more than inappropriate just for the young ones. It's inappropriate for Sara to be here, and for me to be forced to be here. He threatened my mother, again.

I don't know what to think of any of that.

Robert's kids are technically my siblings. Robert's wife is technically my stepmother. His parents are technically my grandparents. For all intents and purposes they are technically part of my family, but it doesn't feel that way. They feel like strangers. I'm not big on meeting new people.

Maybe none of us in this car right now are big on meeting new people and that's why no one has bothered to even unlock the car doors. We're all sitting here, with the engine still running, looking at his house.

It's a nice house. It has a green well cared for lawn. He has one of those sprinklers that chase people and sound like a really big insect of some sort. His mailbox looks like a little brick house and the red flag is in its upright position. The driveway is empty so I assume his vehicles are in the garage. I'm guessing he has at least two cars, most people do these days.

We didn't park in the driveway. We're on the street. Catherine's behind the wheel and Sara is sitting rigidly in the passenger seat. I'm not sure she's even breathing anymore. I don't remember the last thing she said or the last thing anyone said for that matter. I know I haven't said anything recently.

I should say something, maybe. "I can go in alone." Everyone doesn't have to go in. "And call you in later."

Nikki's hand is on my thigh. I don't remember her putting it there. "We can go."

I can tell by the way Sara's breathing starts up again that she actually is considering the offer. She doesn't want to go into that house. "We're all going in," she says as she unlocks the doors then opens hers.

We all take that as a sign and open our doors. My feet are the first to touch the ground closely followed by Nikki's. Catherine and Sara only just managed to get their doors opened. There's something going on with them that possibly has nothing to do with me. This isn't about me meeting my father to them, but I think it may be more of a case of them meeting Sara's rapist. It would make sense that they think of it that way.

It probably makes me really selfish that I'm not going into this thinking that. It's part of the whole picture, sure, but it's not my main focus. Robert is my biological father. He's the guy I get half my make-up from. He's the guy that will show me how important nature really is.

I've already told them that I can do this alone and I'm not going to tell them it again, cause I really don't think I can do this alone. I want them with me. They have to be there, cause they have to be stronger than me. They are the adults in this situation and all. They're the grownups for all intents and purposes.

He doesn't even wait for everyone to get out of the car before he opens the door. He's tall, but I always thought he would be. His skin is dark, not black, but definitely dark. He looks Hispanic. I didn't know I was Hispanic.

Robert steps towards me, but doesn't get too close. He waves awkwardly and I don't even think of waving back. I can't even remember why I'm here now. I don't know why we drove all this way to meet him at his house. Why didn't he come to me? We wouldn't have to meet at Catherine's place. I know none of us want him in our home.

"I'm glad you came," He has an accent. It's not a thick one but I can tell it's there nonetheless. "I was almost positive that you wouldn't."

"That's funny." It's really not. "I was positive I wouldn't too until Mom told me you threatened her with taking this to court."

His shoulders slump and he turns his gaze away from me. "It was an empty threat."

An arm slips around my waist and Sara's voice sounds stronger in this air, "That's not how you made it sound at all."

My weight falls against her before I even know what my body is doing. She's ready for it and doesn't even need to shift her stance. Nikki steps up to my side and Catherine steps up to Sara's. There's nothing quite like presenting a united front.

"I only wanted to get a chance to meet my daughter." His eyes are pleading with Sara's as if he deserves at least that. He doesn't deserve it though, does he?

"I'm not your daughter," Robert should know that up front. I have parents and he's not one of them.

He nods once. "Fair enough."

A woman comes out of the house and I'm going to assume it's his wife. She's beautiful. She has long dark hair, perfect white teeth, olive skin, dark brown eyes and the unfortunate intellect to marry this guy. Beauty and brains is supposed to be a hard combination to find, right?

"Hello," she says softly to all of us. "I'm Clarissa."

"Melinda." I respond shortly then turn and point to Sara. "These are my parents Sara and Catherine." My arm goes across Nikki's shoulders, putting even more weight against Sara. "And this is my friend Nikki."

"Would you like to come inside?" Clarissa asks all of us.

None of us move and it takes me a moment to realize that the rest of them are waiting on me. They're not going to do anything unless I do it first. That's strange. I've my own little posse here.

"Why not?" I take the first step and everyone follows. I'm the first one to enter the house and immediately look for a place to sit down. I can't stand for long these days. My body is still weak and I'm not too entirely comfortable in this situation either so my legs aren't feeling as sturdy as they usually do.

Clarissa starts acting like the perfect hostess and asks us all if we want anything to drink and has set out some finger foods for us to pick at. I'm not hungry and I'm really not thirsty either. No one seems to be because no one wants anything to drink and no one is picking at the food.

We're sitting in Clarissa's and Robert's living room filling almost all of the available seats in complete silence. I'm almost tempted to pick up a cracker and cheese offering to just do something with myself relatively productive. I'm relatively comfortable in thinking that Clarissa wouldn't try to poison us. I don't see how she would benefit from that.

"So are you feeling better?" Robert asks me as he reaches out for the cracker and cheese offering I had my eye on.

Clarissa is staring at the bandages I still have covering my arms. I wonder how much Robert and she knows about me and what happened. Do they know about Laura? Do they know about anything at all other than my name?

Am I feeling better? That's a stupid question. So he must not know anything. "I'm getting better."

He finishes off his cracker and wipes the crumbs from his pants. They sprinkle down to the floor and I find it a little absurd that watching crumbs is the most exciting thing and comfortable thing to do in this situation.

"So why did you want to see me?" I can't sit here and wait for him to say something profound forever. It's not really possible for him to come up with something all that great to say anyway. He's the bad guy. Bad guys usually aren't very profound in their excuses for why they want to ruin people's lives.

Robert lowers his head but I don't think he's looked directly at me yet. His vision has been jumping from my torso to my arms but his eyes never have settled. Right now he's staring at the crackers and cheese. "I wanted to get a chance to meet you." He answers to the crackers.

"The first time you see me is what appears to be a suicide attempt and that makes you want to play Daddy?" Seems kind of twisted to me.

"Appears to be?" That's the part he catches onto.

"She wasn't trying to kill herself," Catherine jumps in. "It was more complicated than that."

"It usually is and can probably be directly related to her 'parents'." Robert doesn't hesitate to stare Catherine down. He actually seems to have some kind of judgment thing going on in his tone.

Robert might actually think that I have bad parents. That's certainly an odd thought. I mean, this guy is judging whether my parents are good enough for me?

"Robert, don't pretend you know about something you don't." Sara's being defensive. Maybe they've had this conversation before. It's likely that it might have come up.

"I know what I saw," Robert replies strongly. "I saw my daughter with her arms cut up with doctors surrounding her trying to make sure she lived."

Catherine opens her mouth to say something but I beat her to it. "I'm not your daughter. Your genetics just happen to be part of me."

"When I saw you," he finally looks at me, "I saw my daughter bleeding and crying out for help. I can't ignore that, Melinda. I've already tried to ignore too much in my life."

Yeah. Right. "Are you Bipolar?"

The question throws him off and his brow furrows in confusion. "No."

"Anyone in your family Bipolar?" He might be able to blame for that too, although I think Laura might be the donator of that particular disorder.

"Not that I know of, why?" He's still confused, too bad for him.

"Me cutting myself really wasn't a cry for help. The cry came way before you ever suddenly appeared. I agree with my mom. Don't pretend to know about something you don't." I reach out for a cracker. I'm not hungry but it gives me something to do and I can stop looking at him.

"You tried to kill yourself." He leans forward in his seat and I think he even is thinking about reaching out for me. That would be a big mistake on his part.

I sigh and scoot back. Sara is sitting next to me and I move closer to her. "I thought we already covered this. I wasn't trying to kill myself."

"Then what was it?" He doesn't sound like he believes me and I can't believe him! The bastard thinks he can walk in and play the hero here or something? Where does he get off? He doesn't know anything. He can't judge whether my parents are 'fit' or not. I know what 'unfit' parents are like. I've lived with that and I'm not living with that now. I'm not. Sara and I may not be on the firmest ground or anything, but I consider her to be fit.

"It's none of your business," Sara tells him and puts her arm around me.

"We've talked about this, Sara. This is my business I am her father whether any of you want to admit that or not. I want to help." Robert's sounding a little frustrated. None of us are listening to him.

"If you want to help, then disappear." If he doubted that I didn't like him before then he shouldn't doubt it now. "You're just another problem in my life now, Robert. Erase yourself and go away. Be a father to the kids you wanted to have with a wife that I can only hope to assume wanted to have the kids with you."

"Robert has changed a lot, Melinda." Clarissa actually speaks. "You should give him a chance. I'm sure you've been in a position where you wanted a second chance."

Well that's low. Clarissa might be trying to get me to look at this in another way. She may actually want me to consider letting Robert be a part of my life. She's got really high hopes. She should aim lower, like at me accepting a beverage from her.

"I'm not looking to alleviate Robert's guilt by letting him swoop in and fix my life. My life won't get fixed by someone swooping. My life will get better by being with my family and by me choosing to work through any problems I might have. Robert doesn't enter the equation." I stand up because this thing is over. There's no point in any of us being here. He can't get custody of me; I'm too old for him to even try.

Robert stands up too, along with everyone else. "You can't just forget that I exist."

I can't help but let out a little bit of a chuckle at his statement. "You'd be surprised by what I actually can forget."

He doesn't like my answer. "I'm not giving up, Melinda."

I shrug. "Fine. You don't need to." I take a quick look at Sara who has maintained a mostly expressionless façade. "I didn't tell you it could never happen, but it's certainly not happening today."

I walk to the door and once again everyone follows me. I make it to the car and no one says anything. Nikki, Catherine and Sara pile in the car, but before I get in I have a question for Robert, "What are your children's names?"

"Robert Jr. and Maria. Maria's named after your grandmother."

I nod. "And how old are they?"

"Robert Jr. is six and Maria is nine. They're looking forward to meeting you. Maria really wants a big sister." Robert gives a slight smile. "You might like having siblings."

"I already have a younger sister, Robert." I say then get into the car and shut the door.

Catherine doesn't waste anytime in getting us out of there. Our ride back is in complete silence. It's not awkward; it's just the way things needed to be in the moment.

When we get back to the house I leave them all behind and go to my room. Sara follows me and sits down next to me on my bed. "You okay?" she asks.

"I don't know. You?"

She smirks. "I don't know." There's silence for a moment more then she clears her throat. "Lindsey thinks of you as a sister too. She's been really worried."

"I haven't been that good of a sister. I haven't been that good of anything lately." I think I'm going to cry. I thought those Happy Pills the docs got me on were supposed to stop making me feel depressed. Maybe they need to up my dosage.

"That's not true, Melinda." I don't believe her. "You're a lot better at being a sister, a daughter, a everything than I ever could be. You'll see that eventually even if you don't believe me now. We'll make you believe it."

I hope they do. "Thanks for being there today, by the way. I probably wouldn't have made it if you weren't."

"I wouldn't have been anywhere else." She blinks rapidly a couple of times and it would appear that she's trying to fight off some tears. "You should try to get some rest. You're not completely healed yet."

I am tired.

Without kicking Sara, I swing my feet onto the bed and put my head on the pillow. Sara looks at me for a moment then moves so that she's lying on the bed next to me. I'm really not quite sure what she's doing here. She puts her arm across my stomach and then I realize what this is.

It's a mother holding her child. I don't remember anything like this happening to me before. It feels pretty good. I could get used to it.



Chapter 39

I'm in bed and Nikki is asleep next to me. That nap I took with Sara ended up giving me enough energy to stay up for the entire night, and there wasn't much to do except stay in bed and watch Nikki sleep. I won't hesitate to say that watching her wasn't that exciting. There was a lot of breathing in and out involved and it didn't seem like she was having any nightmares, and without her to distract me I was a little more than forced to start doing that thinking thing again.

I don't remember when Sara left me alone as I slept and don't even really remember Nikki taking her place, but I wish I could have just focused on those things instead of Robert Gary's face and his words. No one has told me all that happened in those four days I was in the hospital unconscious and I don't think I really want to ask about them.

Catherine said that cutting up my hands and arms made quite a scene at Nikki's apartment. I passed out and missed all the good stuff. I missed the police coming and the ambulance's arrival. I missed the crowd that formed outside of Nikki's apartment who started spreading rumors that I had been murdered because of some sordid love triangle.

Fortunately, I also missed Robert's arrival in the ER after he heard the horribly inaccurate breaking news report that there had been a possible murder during some violent domestic dispute. The breaking news report, I hear, did eventually recant their statements once the police stepped in and then my news suddenly wasn't so interesting anymore, but it was still interesting enough to get Mr. Gary to come check in on me to see if I was his biological child.

I've been thinking about Robert Gary all night.

When I rollover to look at the clock for the ten thousandth time I see that it's five in the morning. That's early, but it's not as early as three in the morning was. It seems like a decent enough time to get up and start walking around aimlessly; perhaps doing that will move my focus elsewhere.

I get out of bed and Nikki turns over but doesn't wake up. She's slept like a rock all night. I didn't have the heart to wake her up, but I wouldn't have minded if one of my coughs or turning on the bed would have woken her. She must have been really tired.

I make my way downstairs and am surprised that when I pass the window facing the backyard I can see Sara and Catherine sitting outside. The sun isn't even up yet, but they seem to be. They're sitting on the wooden bench Catherine bought when she realized I went outside all the time. She said she was tired of seeing me sit on the ground. I think it might have been her way of getting out of buying a dog for Lindsey and me.

Sara is firmly in Catherine's arms and they're talking but I can't hear anything, what with me still being inside and all. I don't really want to casually overhear their conversation either even though sometimes I wish I could become invisible so that I could hear what they say to each other. I want to know what they talk about when I'm not around.

They're pretty united every time they step in front of me. By the time these private conversations reach my ears they've already decided what they're going to do. But I want to hear what it is that never gets said in front of me. I'd like to know what they say to each other. It can't be all 'I love you' and 'You're the most important person in my life'. There has to be some of the 'I don't know if I can handle all this' and 'Are we doing the right thing' and maybe a little bit of 'Fuck Robert Gary to Hell'.

Arms circle me from behind and I feel myself being pulled back into a warm body. I recognize it as Nikki's immediately. "You're up early."

"I never sleep long," her breath grazes my ear and causes gooseflesh to appear on my arms. "So what is it we're thinking staring at your parents?"

"Selfishly, I'm thinking of what they say when I'm not around."

Nikki pulls me closer to her. "Well if it helps you out any, Baby, I'm sure they think the same thing when they see us talking."

I shrug. "Well that's different."

"How?"

Yeah how is it different? "They're like practically married and stuff." That wasn't a very good answer, but it's all I can offer with the amount of thinking I've already been forced to do these last few restless hours.

Nikki's arms fall from me. "And what are we?"

I finally turn from looking at Catherine and Sara. My attention goes to Nikki and I know it's time for us to talk. We haven't talked a lot since I suddenly reappeared in her life and decided to cut myself open on her bathroom floor. She deserves more from me.

"I don't know." That's a lame answer, but it's all I have.

Nikki nods. "I can accept that. I always have."

"Both of us have." I'd sum up our history by saying: complicated.

"Jenny is still trying to contact you," Nikki says rather easily. "You should talk to her. She may not be able to turn off love like you can."

That sounds like an insult and I might feel the need to get insulted if it what she said weren't true. Jenny did mean something to me and I probably could have fallen in love with her. The timing was off and I wasn't well. Then again, I'm not going to lie to myself and say that Jenny could have been my ever after. She was fun to be around and I valued her friendship, but none of that amounts to an ever after.

"I didn't use her like the others," It's the best defense I have. It's really the only defense I have.

"You should at least talk to her."

I move closer to Nikki and put her arm across my waist again. "I know." I shift in her hold so that we're comfortably facing each other. "Have you called that mammoth of a woman who answered your door when I arrived?" At still remember her standing there staring at me like I was a mentally ill person-which I sort of was-that she would have to defend her lady love against.

"Sandi," Nikki laughs lowly. "I already forgot she even existed."

My brow raises and I smile. "You're worse than I am."

"Never said that I wasn't."

Nikki works really hard to keep me on the right track but never quite bothers to get there for herself. I took up that job when I first met her, kind of like how she took up the job for me. "You should still give her a call though, what with common decency existing and all."

"I'll think about it."

That means she won't make the call. "Who was this Sandi person anyway?"

Nikki lets out a long sigh that tells me all I need to know. Sandi was nothing but a distraction. She fit the need for the time but never got close to the heart, never got in the vicinity of the heart.

"Yeah," I grin. "She didn't look like your type at all."

"I've never had a specific type in mind, Melinda. I've only had a specific person."

I'm pretty sure, here, that I don't need to guess who that person is. "Do you remember that night we met?"

"Jessica wasn't expecting you to show up at her party, but she was thrilled that you came. She was completely in love with you, but I think that's how it worked for you. Everyone fell in love with you; they couldn't help themselves."

"That's not true. A lot of people did hate me." I think more people hated me than 'loved' me. I wasn't the kindest person in the world.

"If they hated you then that's only because they didn't like it that they loved you."

The idea makes me laugh. "Well either way, the night we met was the best night I ever had in my life."

"And just think," Nikki gives my waist a bit of a squeeze, "we never even made it to my bed."

I roll my eyes and pull away from her, "Yeah, that's because you took me back to your apartment handed me a beer and we ended up talking all night long. I was fourteen at the time. You provided alcohol to a minor."

"Hey," Nikki shrugs, "I was nineteen."

I turn and look back outside and see that Catherine and Sara haven't moved. I don't think they know that Nikki and I are even watching them. "Do they know how old you are?"

Nikki sighs. "Oh yeah. They wanted to put me in jail until I yelled at them that I had never had sex with you."

For some unknown reason my body stiffens. "You told them that? And they believed you?"

"Melinda, I really didn't want to go to jail and I don't think they wanted to believe anything else."

I poke my finger in Nikki's chest. "Well then you got lucky."

"It's a lot easier to get lucky when you're telling the truth."

"I guess that's true." Nikki really shouldn't be lying to my parents anyway. "But I'm still surprised they believed you. I'm even more surprised they still believe it."

Nikki takes my poking finger in her hand. "Maybe they know that love means more than sex."

I feel the need to turn around and start staring at Sara and Catherine again. I fight the urge. "Could be, but Sara knows I was never very discriminate. She knows a little about my days before I came here."

"Not a whole lot, because she didn't know about me. She didn't know anything about me at all."

Nikki and I pull apart by what seems mutual agreement. We walk away from the direct view of Sara and Catherine and make our way to the kitchen. I take a seat at the table and Nikki pulls two cups out of the cabinet and shuffles over to the refrigerator.

"I don't know how to talk to Sara, Nikki. I don't know how to talk to Catherine either. When I came here you know my plan was two years then college and gone forever."

Nikki places a cup of orange juice in front of me then sits down next to me. "Are you saying your plans have changed?"

I wrap my hands around the cool glass cup and stare down into its juicy depths. "I think I'm saying I don't have any plans anymore. It was always an escape plan, but I don't feel the need to escape. I don't feel like finding the quickest way out."

"That's a good thing, Melinda."

Nikki is staring at me; I can feel her eyes burning a hole through my center. "It's scary, Nikki. Even if it is good, it's scary."

"It's a very scary thing, but it's still a good thing. Not a lot of us move past the escape plans." Nikki picks up her glass and takes the first sip of orange juice. I'm still holding my cup in my hands not any closer to raising it to my mouth.

"But now I have to discover what I really want to do with my life. I have to rediscover who I am." That's scarier than facing Laura again. Well, no it's not but it could be a distant second in a scariness rating. "Do I even like basketball? I've played it for so long so that I could get a scholarship and pay for school. That's all it ever was to me. The same thing goes for school. I did so well and studied so hard so that my grades would be good enough to take me away from everything. I was supposed to get into college and leave my past behind me. I'm not sure I even want to go to college anymore. Everything I did was just a focus on getting me out. I built myself around that."

Nikki puts down her glass and puts her hand on my arm. "First of all, there's no way either of those two ladies sitting outside are going to let you not go to college. You're going to school. That's probably written in stone somewhere."

I can't help but smile. "You saying they won't let me get out of that?"

"Get out of what?" Sara's voice asks from behind me.

"Enrolling in a higher education facility." Nikki answers with a smile. "You'll never let her get out of going to college."

Sara tilts her head in inquiry. "Are you thinking about not going to school?"

"We would understand if you wanted to wait a year before you enroll, but you shouldn't skip it altogether," Catherine jumps in before I can say anything.

"Can we talk about this when I'm closer to graduating from high school?" There's no point in creating an issue that doesn't even exist yet.

I can tell that they both want to say some more to me, but they let it go. School's not one of those things that is on my mind these days. I'm not even sure I'm still enrolled in school. I haven't shown up for classes in what must be close to a month now. It may be even longer than that. For all I know Sara could have withdrawn me due to medical problems or whatever. We really haven't talked about any of that.

Maybe school really isn't all that important. I know I haven't given it a thought for a long time.

Sara and Catherine start shuffling around the kitchen doing whatever it is they do without caffeine running through their veins, and I get up from the table. "I'm going to go take a shower," I announce for no specific reason and start walking out of the kitchen. Nikki gets up and follows me.

We make it back to my bedroom when Nikki turns me around to face her. "Just so you know, the night we met was the best night of my life too. I know we can't have a relationship now, just like we couldn't have a relationship back then, but you're never going to lose me, Melinda. This finding out who you are stuff that you've got to go through, well you won't be alone."

Well I have no clue how to respond to that except with maybe a, "I know. It's like we each said the first night we met: 'I'll make sure that at least you survive'."

Nikki lets go of me and takes a step away. "Yeah. It's like that."

I turn to go take that shower I had helpfully announced was in my itinerary downstairs but before I start walking away I focus my eyes on Nikki again. She's five years my senior. In this world where age matters so much that's a pretty big gap. But for us it doesn't exist. What exists between us is that we were both beaten and made to feel worthless. We both sought out ways to kill the pain.

In my infinite wisdom I used people before they got a chance to use me. Nikki did the same thing, but she never stayed too far away from drugs either. When I met her she was an addict. Her drug of choice was heroine. She's still got marks on her arms from the needles.

I'm sure at least Sara or Catherine has seen them. Nikki doesn't hide the scars that mark her arms. She says they're a reminder for her to never go back to that.

"Is there a reason you're standing there staring at me?"

I've never been unsure when it comes to Nikki, but I'm starting to question a whole lot of things these days. "You're not just sticking around cause what I did for you with the drugs are you? This just isn't about paying me back is it?"

"No," she shakes her head. "Love's more than payback too."

"Then maybe I've got a lot more to learn about the big 'L' word." I give a weak smile then walk out of my room and down the hall to the bathroom.

For a month I stayed by Nikki's side and watched the drugs slowly drain out of her system. I was there for that dealing with the whole thing, and that's the first time I ever stuck by anybody for anything.

Before I get a chance to actually enter the bathroom I run into Catherine who is coming out of her room. She smiles at me but the smile fades once she gets a good look at my face. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing really," I shake my head a little. "I was just talkin' to Nikki and it got me thinking about the past."

Catherine steps up to me and puts her hand on my shoulder. "You remember something else with Laura?" she asks concerned.

"No. I was just remembering what it's like to watch a person detoxing."

"Nikki?"

"Yeah," I nod. "Helping her through that made us friends for life."

"Well," Catherine pauses for a very long time. "Beating an addiction is a very hard thing to do."

She sounds like she knows what she talking about. "So what were you on?" I never pegged Catherine for the addict type, but when I think about it I don't know a whole lot about her. If I think about it even more, we don't know a whole lot about each other. We met less than a year ago.

"Cocaine," I didn't think she'd actually tell me. "That wasn't during a particular good time in my life." Her hand drops from my shoulder. "Did you ever…"

"No. If I took anything then I would have been kicked off the basketball team. I couldn't risk it."

We stand there facing each other in silence. We've never talked like this to each other before. Something definitely is changing. We'll all have to see how that change goes, I guess.

"So I'm going to take that shower." I point to the bathroom door.

"Be sure to cover up your bandages," she points to my covered arms. "You know you still can't get them wet."

"I'll take care of it."

I push the bathroom door open but before I can step through it Catherine leaves me with, "We can talk about all this later, if you want."

"Sure thing," I reply then close the bathroom door behind me. I feel different now. I don't know if that's because of all the drugs I'm taking to make me 'normal' or if it's from something else but I do feel different.

I'll have to see where different takes me.



Chapter 40

My shower isn't nearly as long as I want it to be, but my right hand started bleeding again and I can't just stand in the shower bleeding. I keep on tearing open the cuts on my hands since I tend to use my hands so much. It's really hard not to, I've found out.

It's hard putting my clothes on since I'm only able to use one hand efficiently. It probably takes longer for me to put the clothes on that it took for me to take my shower. Irony I have found thee, multiple times in multiple ways.

Blood has started to drip down my forearm and I reach out for some bath tissue to wipe away the blood. I've got to get downstairs and find someone to wrap my hand back up. I've given up on trying to bandage my hands on my own. It's too much work and it always looks really bad.

Eventually I make it out of the bathroom with bath tissue wrapped around my hand and make it downstairs. I follow the smell of food, which means I end up in the kitchen. My mouth opens to call out Sara's name when I notice Lindsey sitting at the table along with Catherine and Nikki. I don't remember the last time I saw Lindsey. She looks… well she looks like herself, kinda short and spunky.

Her eyes turn to me and the first glance she gets of me after, I don't know how long, is of my hand dripping blood to the floor. I bet I look a lot different these days. I bet Catherine and Sara are looking a little different these days too.

I put my hand up in the air, elevating is always good, and offer a very weak half-smile to Lindsey. "Hey, Lindsey."

Sara's not in the kitchen. I don't know where she is, so that's probably why Catherine gets up from her chair and comes over to me, picking up a kitchen towel on her way. She carefully takes the tissue off of my hand and throws it on the counter. I'm betting that's not too sanitary. Food's being prepared in here.

"Did you break open your hand again," Catherine asks me but she doesn't need an answer exactly cause it's obvious I did something to my hand. "You're not giving this a real chance to heal, y'know?"

Shrugging seems like a good enough response, it's not like I meant to open up my hand again. I'm getting really tired of the sight of my own blood. "So Lindsey, when did you make an appearance?" It's easier not to focus on what Catherine's doing to my hand. Refocusing my attention just might take some of the throbbing pain away.

"Greg just dropped me off. Sara's talkin' to him now." Lindsey's attention is focused on her mother and my hand. This might just be the most interesting thing she's ever seen, at least judging by the look on her face it might be. "What did you do to your hand?"

Catherine's attention immediately escapes my hand and she's staring right at me. I can't read in her eyes what she's trying to tell me, but I'm sure there's something in those blue eyes of hers that is yelling at me to do something. There's a right answer here, but since I haven't been informed as to what it is then I'm going to have to go with the truth. "I cut my hand really bad a while back and it's taking a long time to heal."

The eyes staring at me relax a little and Catherine is able to go back to cleaning my hand. My answer must have been a good one.

"How did you cut your hand?" Lindsey asks and Catherine's attention is back on me and her motions have stopped once again. Lindsey is very inquisitive.

"I cut into my hand when I was having a flashback." Catherine doesn't like that answer as much, but it's the truth and that's what I'm sticking to these days.

Lindsey gets this weird look on her face and her voice gets real soft and she asks, "Did you try to kill yourself?"

With all technicalities aside, I did try to kill myself. I cut into my hands because there was blood on them, but that wouldn't make sense to her. That doesn't make sense to a whole lot of people, I bet. "I wasn't trying to kill myself."

"But you were in the hospital," Lindsey replies quickly. "You did have to stay there."

Catherine is holding onto my hand, but she's forgotten it. I can tell since she's not paying any attention to it anymore. It's started to bleed again. "I was in the hospital." I want to say that my stay wasn't exactly all for my hands. I saw more psychiatrists than I did actual medical doctors. They said my wounds weren't on my hands, but Catherine doesn't want Lindsey to know that. Maybe she doesn't want to explain it to the early teen or maybe she doesn't want Lindsey to go through the pain of realizing I'm crazy.

"Mom said you were." So at least they told her that much.

There's still this weird look on Lindsey's face that I can't interpret. I'm not an expert at reading her facial expressions and it's been a while since I've had the chance to. Maybe I should just take a chance.

I pull my hand gently away from Catherine's grasp and grab the towel she's holding limply in her free hand. I put the towel around my bleeding hand and walk over to Lindsey. I bend down to her level and do something that doesn't feel comfortable for me at all.

My arms curve around Lindsey's small body and I pull her tenderly to me. Her scrawny little arms wrap around my neck and the force of her grip surprises me. She's even choking me a little. I had no idea her little body held so much strength, so much strength actually to hold onto me.

"I'm okay, Lindsey." I whisper into her hair. "I'm okay."

There's some form of wetness hitting my shoulder and running down my shoulder blade. It tickles as it runs down my back, but I don't smile or squirm or anything. I just hold onto Lindsey wondering when she'll let go of me and let me breathe normally again.

"They wouldn't let me see you," Lindsey tells my shoulder. "They said you were sick and couldn't have visitors."

Well I think I've had a lot of visitors, though none of them have been Lindsey's age. Maybe that makes a difference or somethin'. I'm sure whatever decisions that Catherine and Sara made about Lindsey was in Lindsey's best interest and maybe partially in my best interest too, though it might have been nice to be consulted about some of the decisions.

"I was…" What? Sick? I can tell her everything is fine now except for the bleeding. "I am still sick, Lindsey, but I'm getting better." The truth.

Finally Lindsey releases her grip on me and pulls out of my supportive hold. "What kind of sick?"

What kind? I don't know what kind. I'm all kinds of sick. That's what the doctors were telling me. Maybe this is the question I shouldn't answer. I should leave this one to Catherine, but when I turn and look at Catherine I know she's not going to take control of this conversation now. Nikki hasn't said a single word during Lindsey and my little exchange so I don't think she's going to say anything now. As far as I know, Nikki just met the girl today.

"Do you know what bi-polar disorder is?" I certainly don't have a grasp on what it is yet so hopefully Lindsey is a very smart girl who has an interest in behavior disorders.

"I think so," Lindsey answers slowly telling me that she really doesn't have a clue what it is at all.

"Well, it's a disorder that can effect how a person behaves." Maybe I should pull out a pamphlet I was forced to take home with me and throw it at Lindsey. I can tell her to read the thing and if she happened to have any questions to Google it on the internet. "It makes their behavior real screwy." Yeah I'm doing an excellent job here. "Sometimes people who have it make decisions that aren't so good cause their brain isn't working right. Like, they might think it's a good idea to take off all their clothes in the middle of winter and run around the block, even though you know it's a bad idea."

I'm not sure if Lindsey is getting this at all. I just need to wrap this up. "I have bi-polar disorder. Sometimes I would do things that were really bad ideas and I would get really sad for a long period of time and it made me really sick."

"How did you get it?" Well there's another question I can't quite answer. She's good at coming up with them.

"No one can really say. It's partially genetic, but my family history probably contributed to me actually getting the disorder." That's what the doctors said.

"Your family history?" I think that's officially one too many questions.

"Lindsey," My voice sounds a little more frustrated than I want it to, but I mean come on. I can't answer all these questions calmly and collectively. She's lucky I answered what I did. "Let's not get everything covered in the first fifteen minutes of seeing each other, okay?" My voice is a little better this time. "I'm not going to suddenly disappear."

"You did before," She quickly throws back in my face.

"I'm on some medication that will stop me from suddenly disappearing, okay?" Lindsey doesn't look like she completely buys it but she's going to let it go for now, which is good cause I'm still losing blood.

Sara and Greg come into the kitchen in mid-conversation. It ends by the time they both see Lindsey and me facing each other and blood running down my hand. Sara forgets the nerd and comes over to me. "You broke your hand open again?" It's more of statement than a question.

"Yeah, I might need to give up using my hands altogether." By the time they actually get a chance to heal they'll have deep scars on the flesh. There's no way I'll be able to forget what happened this time.

"We need to get you cleaned up," Catherine says from somewhere behind me and I agree with her completely cause that sounds like an escape to me.

I stand up and walk across the kitchen back to Catherine. She puts her hand on the small of my back and leads me out of the kitchen. The last thing I hear is Sara introducing Nikki to Greg.

"You handled Lindsey really well," Catherine tells me as we reach the downstairs bathroom. "You acted very mature."

"Just told her what she has a right to know," Catherine might take that as a personal attack, but I don't mean it that way. The way I see it, Lindsey is part of this family and she has every right to know that I'm working on certain things.

Catherine's eyes are turned to my hand as is all her attention. "You're right."

"I mean, it's not like we could hide things from her forever or anything." I don't know why I'm explaining myself. There's no reason for me to. Catherine isn't arguing with me.

Smooth fingers run gently across my opened cuts. "Melinda, sometimes a parent just wants to protect their children as much as they can even if at times hiding them away isn't the best choice."

Well, I'll have to take her word for that. I've never been a parent. I'm just now having to get used to being a child that matters.

"Is everything okay?" Sara's form appears in the doorway and her reflection in the mirror looks a little worried.

"Yeah, Lindsey and I seeing each other was a little bit of a surprise." I shrug. It's all I can really do.

Sara steps fully into the bathroom making the small space a little bit crowded. "Is it too soon?" Her hand goes on my shoulder and I'm now sandwiched between Catherine and Sara.

"Lindsey shouldn't have to stay away from her home," It's wrong of me to be the cause of that. "Plus, she might need to get used to seeing a few things." Not that I want the kid to get traumatized or anything. I should be the one to leave, really, but where would I go? Nikki would let me go with her, but I can't ask her to support me. She's not made of money. Last I heard, she was working retail and I don't think I'm in any condition to hold down a job at this particular moment.

"We can see how things go," Catherine offers and that may be the only plan we'll ever be able to come up with again.

Silence fills this small space and Catherine is intently working on patching my hand back up. Sara stands behind me with a hand on my back that I'm not even sure she knows is there. I'm staring down at my hand. Right now, for me, this is all that exists.

I'd like to ask why Greg was the one bringing Lindsey over. I'd like to ask what Sara and Greg were talking about in the other room. I'd like to ask a lot of things, but looking at my hand is good enough right now.

I'm just going to see how things go when we leave this bathroom and have a meal with everyone sitting at the table. I probably shouldn't call Greg a nerd to his face, though.



Continued…