Chapter 33 Lorna Is Thirty-Eight
At the company’s annual sales conference, there is an awards luncheon at which Lorna is named the top salesperson at Driskill for the fourth year in a row.
She accepts the award shaped like a crystal mountain with an engraved snow top.
She stares at the thing in her hands, wonders why it is a mountain with a snow top, then smiles at the audience and thanks the people she is supposed to thank.
There is applause, but she doesn’t really hear it.
She was given three tickets for her table, but there is no one here for her other than Deb, who is smiling at her and applauding harder than anyone.
She is here as a representative of the company.
Lorna had no one to bring. Her mother is too ill, and she didn’t bother to tell Kristen about it. She didn’t see the point.
Lorna takes her award to her mother’s house.
She waves to Peggy as she climbs up the stairs to the apartment above the garage.
She opens the door and walks in... to find a strange man sitting on the couch, his feet propped on the coffee table, watching TV.
He is heavyset, dressed in a tank top that displays his tattoo-covered arms and neck.
His hair is a long, greasy ponytail. “Who are you?” he asks.
“I’m Lorna Lott. My mother lives here. Who are you?”
He shifts his gaze to the TV. “Friend of Kristen.”
What a charming fellow. “And where is Kristen?”
“Ran out for something. She’ll be back.” His tone sounds bored, like Lorna should know this.
Like she’s bothering him by asking. Like he is there not to provide information to anyone but to watch the TV Lorna bought and lounge on the couch she bought after Kristen nearly burned down the cheap one that was here before.
The rage begins to build.
She stalks back to her mother’s room and finds her in bed, a scarf around her head. She is propped against the pillows and watching a smaller, older TV. “How long has that guy been here?” Lorna demands.
“What guy?” her mother asks idly. She tries to sit up and grimaces. “Lolo, I can’t find my pain pills. They should be right here on my nightstand. Will you look in the bathroom?”
Lorna goes into the bathroom. The countertop is covered with hair products, tooth-cleaning products, and brushes and combs. The toilet has a ring in the bowl. It doesn’t look like it’s been cleaned in weeks.
She can’t find the medication. She goes into the kitchen and searches there, opening drawers and doors.
“Can you keep it down?” the man asks over his shoulder.
Her rage bubbles like a cauldron.
She goes to Kristen’s room and stands at the threshold, feeling seasick.
The floor is completely covered in clothes and shoes and empty fast-food bags and dishes.
Something smells like soured milk. She can’t find the pain pills here either.
She picks her way to Kristen’s unmade bed and lifts a sheet to look.
All she finds is a pair of panties and a used condom.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Lorna drops the sheet and turns to the door. Kristen is standing there holding a plastic CVS shopping bag. She is too thin, her hair as greasy and stringy as that of the guy she’s with. The T-shirt she’s wearing is too big on her skeletal frame, and her collarbones are protruding.
“Looking for Mom’s pain pills that have gone missing. She’s hurting and I can’t find them in the mess of this apartment.”
Kristen holds up the bag. “They’re in here.
Stop searching my room. What are you, a cop?
” She tosses the bag onto the bed. Lorna picks it up.
There are some cigarettes, an orange pill bottle, and some Takis and gummy worms, like Kristen is twelve.
Lorna takes the bottle out and notices that it contains only fifteen pills. “Why so few?”
“Because Mom lost the other ones. They wouldn’t fill it up.”
Lorna stares hard at her sister, who won’t make eye contact. “ Mom lost the other ones?”
“That’s what I said. What’s your problem?” Kristen snaps.
“Did you take Mom’s meds that she is prescribed for cancer?”
Kristen colors slightly, but a hardness fills her eyes. “Could you for once not come in here accusing me of everything?”
“Could you for once not steal from Mom? You’re unbelievable! She is in pain, Kristen.”
Kristen jumps over the mess to her closet and takes out a duffel bag. She starts stuffing clothes into it. Off the chair, off the floor.
“What are you doing?” Lorna demands.
“Beau and I are leaving. I am so sick of you.”
“Leaving? What about Mom?”
Kristen twists around to face Lorna, her face an ugly grimace. “What do you want from me? You accuse me of doing a bad job when I’m here, and when I’m not, I’m not taking care of Mom. I can’t win with you!”
“You can’t leave, Kristen. Mom needs help. She needs someone here.”
“Peggy is here. She’ll do it.”
“It’s not Peggy’s responsibility!” Lorna shouts.
“Who made you the queen of us? Huh? It’s not my responsibility either. If you don’t like it, hire someone. You make good money.”
Lorna gapes at her sister. “Are you kidding me? You can’t hold a job, you’re high most of the time, and yet you get free room and board. All you have to do is look after our mother and not steal from her. Is that so hard?”
“Yes!” Kristen shrieks. And just as suddenly, she sighs wearily. She reaches in her back pocket for a pack of cigarettes.
“Don’t you dare smoke in here,” Lorna snaps.
“Lorna, stop,” Kristen says wearily.
Lorna can’t stop. She is seething. “Stop what? Stop trying to get you to be responsible for one damn thing? Stop trying to get you to put down the crack pipe?”
“I don’t smoke crack.”
“Today,” Lorna snaps.
“Yes,” Kristen says. “Stop it. All of that. When are you going to get it through your head that you are not going to change me? This is who I am, Lorna. Why can’t you accept that?”
Lorna is stunned by the question. “Because I can’t accept it. Could anyone?”
“Yeah, lots of people. Because the thing is, it’s not up to you. You don’t get to decide my life— I do. You may not like who I am or what I do, but I’m fine with it.”
“That’s a lie.”
“No, it’s not.”
“You’re fine with drug use and no job and stealing from Mom? You’re fine with how your life impacts everyone else?”
Kristen rolls her eyes. “Stop trying to change me. You harping on it all the time is not going to work. I can’t be like you, Lorna. I see the world very differently. So just stop.” She hauls up the duffel and goes out the door.
“Kristen!” Lorna adds panic to rage. “You can’t be serious—you can’t walk out that door. What about Mom?”
“Yeah, I can walk out. Because I’m sick to death of being made to feel like I’m subhuman. Come on, Beau.”
“Where to?” he asks, hauling himself up off the couch.
“I don’t know. You figure it out,” Kristen says.
Lorna is shocked. “Kristen—”
“Lolo, for crying out loud, go live your own life and stop worrying about mine.” Kristen leaves, slamming the door behind her.
Lorna hears her and Beau begin to argue on the way down the steps. She doesn’t hear her mother at first, but she feels her icy hand on her arm and turns around. Her mother looks pale and terribly thin. She eases herself into a recliner.
“Did she leave again?” her mother asks, her eyes closed as pain overtakes her.
“Yes. She’s been stealing your pills again, Mom.”
“Oh dear. You’ll have to call the doctor and explain.”
Lorna’s anger is pounding in her ears. Of course she will have to. She turns around and slams her fist against the countertop, wincing with the pain it causes her.
“Don’t start that,” her mother says.
“Don’t start what? Letting go my extreme frustration? Then how am I supposed to deal with it? Because it is filling me up, and the next best thing is taking a nosedive off the top of the garage.”
Her mother opens her eyes. “Don’t talk like that.”
“I have a worthless sister who does nothing but float between jail and you, living off her family, and she can’t even let you have your meds. It’s maddening, Mom.”
“Kristen can’t help—”
“Don’t you dare,” Lorna interrupts, her voice low and dark. “Don’t you dare defend her.”
“I’m not defending her. I’m just saying, Lolo. Addiction is a disease. She can’t help that she is in the grip of it, any more than you can help how angry you are or I can help that I have cancer. I know it’s a burden—”
“Now you are putting words in my mouth.”
“You don’t have to say it—it’s written all over your face. We are both burdens to you.” She sighs. “Can you get me some water?”
Lorna goes into Kristen’s room to get the medication and then to the kitchen to get water.
She comes back, hands her mother a pill and the water, then sits on the couch near her.
“It’s not fair,” she says. “I have a demanding job. Kristen lives here free without any responsibility. We should be able to rely on her.”
“Kristen does her best,” her mother says wearily.
The rage explodes. Tears begin to slide down her face. “You’re defending her again, Mom, and I can’t bear it. We’ve lived in the shadow of her addiction for so long that you’ve lost all perspective. Doesn’t it matter to you that she’s been ruling my life since I was a girl?”
“What does that mean?”
“Are you serious?” Lorna asks incredulously.
“You’ve spent all your time focused on her, and I was left to fend for myself.
I got an award today. But I was there by myself because there is never anyone there for me.
Never! I humiliated myself and lost my best friend at thirteen because of her.
I threw up onstage in front of everyone and cost my high school choir competition because of her.
I treated a boyfriend terribly because of her.
I was arrested because of her; my classmate died because of her!
And so much more. You know this. And we just keep letting her cycle in and out of our lives like it’s no big thing. It’s grossly unfair.”
“I never said it was fair. And there is nothing I am more aware of than how unfair it’s been to you, Lolo.
” She reaches out her hand, forcing Lorna to take it.
She weakly squeezes her fingers. “I know I was not the best mother to you. I know I wasn’t there when you needed me.
But Kristen has been troubled since she was a little girl, and her problems were so deep and so profound and so constant that I didn’t know how to balance the two of you. And for that, I am very sorry.”
Rivers of Lorna’s rage stream down her face. “You could have sent her to Dad.”
Her mother snorts. “She’d be dead by now.”
Lorna pulls her hand free and covers her face with both hands.
She thinks she hates them—her mother, her nonexistent father, and Kristen most of all.
“You could have done something,” she says.
“You could have been my mother too. But no, you’ll continue to let her crash here and use you, and you will continue to ask me to pick up the pieces. ”
“Oh honey, please let it go. I’m not going to turn my daughter out to the streets.
But you? You’re young, you have a bright future.
This bitterness is going to eat you alive.
You need to let the past go and be present in your life now.
Think about your future. Don’t think about how you’ve been wronged. ”
“If you think a few years of Al-Anon means you can start psychoanalyzing me, you’re wrong,” Lorna says curtly. “I’ve had enough therapy to last all my life, and still, nothing ever changes.”
“Because the only thing you can change is the way you react, honey. Like all this dwelling on the things that happened so long ago. You could change the way you view it all. For example, Callie. You could talk to her.”
“Oh my God,” Lorna mutters.
“And the choir concert, well... things happen to all kids. If you feel so strongly about it, write your teacher a letter or something.”
“You make it sound like I’m being whiny, Mom. That was traumatic.”
“I’m just saying you have regrets you should find a way to let go of for the sake of your own happiness.
No matter what happens with Kristen or me, your life is your choice.
Your happiness is a choice. You could choose to find a way to let it go and be happy.
And as for all your disappointment with your sister?
You’d be happier if you let her go too. Kristen is going to do what she’s going to do, and nothing is going to change that.
But you can change if you are unhappy. You can decide now to let her go and live your life.
I want you to be happy, Lolo. It’s too late for me to help you, but you can help yourself. ”
Lorna can’t stand much more of this—her rage, her grief, her inability to control a single thing in her life. “Really?” She stands. “And how is that going to work, Mom? You’re going to die, and then who will be here to take care of Kristen?”
Her mother says nothing.
Lorna gets up and goes to the door. “I’ll call your doctor tomorrow,” she says.
“I’d appreciate it.”
Lorna draws a shaky breath. “Do you have food? I’ll call a service and see if they can come in a couple of times a week and check on you. Maybe do some shopping.”
“Peggy will look in on me.”
Lorna is seething so hard that she is shaking. “It’s not Peggy’s job, Mom. I’ll talk to you later.” She puts her hand on the doorknob, so full of rage she can hardly see.
“Lorna?”
Lorna steels herself and looks back at her frail mother.
“I always wanted to be a mother; did you know that? I never wanted to have a career; I wanted to be a mom. I wanted to be a good mother to you both, but unfortunately, I discovered I only had the capacity to be a mother to the neediest of you. That is the regret I will take to my grave.”
Lorna says nothing. She leaves without speaking.
Her mother takes the regret to her grave by the end of the month.