Chapter 24
An Emotional Sunday
Being alone in my apartment on Sunday felt lonely after the Saturday I’d spent with Jack.
I’d come out of his bathroom smelling like coconut and lavender to find a full breakfast waiting, including freshly cut fruit.
Jack admitted to grabbing a few things from the bar’s kitchen downstairs.
He’d still been barefoot in jeans, and I’d found myself staring at his ass while he finished browning the sausage.
I wanted to touch Jack more. My fingers itched imagining it.
Over breakfast, he’d asked if I wanted to check out some additional places he’d found for vinyl, which was an enthusiastic “yes” from me.
I offered to do the dishes since he’d cooked, but he did them with me, only letting me dry.
Our arms brushed in his small kitchen as we cleaned up.
I wanted to dance in place with how giddy it made me feel.
My body thrummed just from being around him.
After he’d showered, we’d dropped off my car at my apartment, and I’d ridden with him in his truck to a flea market he’d found.
I never would have thought to check there.
Shopping with Jack was both the same and different from the last time.
He was just as great to hang out with, but my eyes kept straying to him more. As if I had permission now.
Even though we were there to look for records, he never complained when my attention was drawn to other booths, and he’d even stopped when he noticed. The concern that I was annoying him faded when he shared interest in whatever caught my eye.
We’d replaced nearly a dozen more records, as well as picked up some new ones.
I’d asked Jack to suggest some he liked.
I set up one of them to play on my record player on Sunday while I began replacing the broken records with the new ones.
I liked Jack’s suggestion of keeping the sleeves of the originals from the Millers.
It made it a little easier each time I tucked the broken pieces into the newly purchased sleeve and packed them away into a leftover moving box.
I didn’t quite feel ready to throw the broken ones out, even though they’d never be playable again.
Listening to music made me remember the way Jack had looked with a guitar in his hands. I doubted I’d ever lose that image of him in my mind. A part of me wanted a repeat performance, but only for me. Would he ever do that—play privately just for me?
My phone vibrated on the coffee table. I reached for it, smiling at the idea that Jack might be calling. I’d already heard from Sean, who’d checked in and reassured me everything was all right with his husband.
When I saw Neil’s name instead of Jack’s, my smile faded. Neil hadn’t called yet that weekend. I’d hoped he wouldn’t.
I declined the call. After four more calls vibrated in quick succession, all ones I declined, a text came in.
Neil:
Pick up Hailey.
My stomach twisted, and I set the phone down. I just wouldn’t look at it, I told myself, trying to focus on the song playing. The continued vibrations made my shoulders curl in more and more. I finished putting away the replacement records before reaching for the phone again.
The last message made my breath freeze in my lungs.
Neil:
It’s not fair to make me deal with your mom.
With all the other things happening, I’d forgotten about my mother.
Neil:
She’s your problem, not mine.
I cringed. He was right. My parents had always been my baggage alone. I scrolled up the texts, reading through them from the beginning.
Neil:
Stop screening my calls.
This is important.
I need you, Hailey.
That one was harder to read.
Neil:
I need your help.
Your mom is here. She keeps banging on the door.
You said you handled her.
I told you this would happen. Why couldn’t you just give her money?
This is embarrassing. What will the neighbors think?
She’s in front of the garage. I can’t even leave.
Where are you?
This is bullshit, Hailey.
I skipped down past the ones I’d read when a new one popped up.
Neil:
Fine. I’m calling the cops.
My fingers shook on my phone.
Me:
Don’t call the cops. I’m heading over.
Three dots appeared, then:
Neil:
About time. No promises. I shouldn’t have to deal with this.
Me:
Sorry.
I rushed to put on my shoes.
My mom sounded like she wasn’t going to be as reasonable as last time, not that she had been reasonable then.
She hadn’t been high or drunk, though, or not as much as usual.
I wondered what I’d find this time. When she was strung out, she could be even more volatile.
Would she scream at me? Worse? Neil was there, but I knew better than to expect him to come out while my mom was around.
He’d never even spoken to her in all the years we’d been together.
Nausea twisted inside me. It would be fine. I’d handle it. Sometimes it was rough, but I always managed to deal with it.
My hand paused on the doorknob as a memory of Jack’s voice rose, the one asking me to promise to call him. He’d offered to come with me, and that was before he’d said he loved me. Well, almost loved me.
I pulled out my phone, ignoring Neil’s texted time limit threat about calling the cops. He wasn’t likely to do that when I was coming to handle it. I pulled up Jack’s number, hitting the call button before I could talk myself out of it.
“Hailey, hey.” Jack’s voice in my ear let me take a deeper breath.
“Hi. Sorry to call.”
“Don’t be sorry. I was thinking about you, too.”
I closed my eyes, absorbing the words. He sounded so happy I’d called. I should have called earlier, just to say I missed him, not for this. “Sorry. I was—no. Never mind. I shouldn’t have called.”
“Hailey, wait,” Jack’s voice rushed out. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s—” I tried another breath.
“Talk to me, Hailey. You need me to come over?”
I leaned my forehead on the door, my hand gripping the knob again. “No. Not here.”
“Where, then?” A beat of silence. “Are you at Neil’s house?”
“Not yet. My mom’s there. I need to go take care of it. It’s not fair to him.”
“I’m coming with you,” Jack said.
His immediate offer shimmered in my mind. Now that the words had started, I couldn’t seem to stop them. “He’s never been able to deal with my parents. He shouldn’t have to. They’re my problem. I should have let her know I’d moved. I should have thought about this happening.”
“Hey, no, this isn’t your fault,” Jack told me, kind like usual. “I’m glad you called. I’m coming to pick you up.”
“I need to go. I wasn’t answering my phone. I need to get there quickly.”
“Wait for me, Hailey. I’m already heading out to my truck.”
“I can’t,” I whispered. “I should have already been there, and I’m farther away. I need to hurry. He’s going to call the cops.” He wouldn’t, I didn’t believe he would, but the possibility made everything inside me feel tighter. My mom already hated me for the time she’d spent in jail.
“I’ll meet you there. I think I’ll beat you there, but if I don’t, don’t get out of your car until I get there.”
I opened my apartment door, locking up behind me quickly. Now that I was finally moving, some of the overwhelming panic receded. “I’m okay. I’ve dealt with this before. I can handle it.”
“You can. I’m going to be there anyway. See you soon.” I heard the sound of an engine as he hung up the phone.
I wasn’t going to be standing outside with her alone. The idea of that let some of the twisting in my gut loosen. I slid into my car. I was farther away than the bar, but I still wasn’t that far.
Jack’s truck was already parked at the curb when I approached Neil’s house. I pulled into the driveway, my hand lifting as if to push the garage door opener. My fingers brushed the roof of the car, reminding me I no longer had a remote. I didn’t live there anymore.
I needed to make that clear to my mother. She stepped back from the front stoop, her body vibrating from either anger or whatever she’d shot into her body that day.
I knew addiction was a disease and not always a choice.
The Millers had me attend counseling every time I returned to them, and I’d talked through my parents’ addictions so many times.
A few years ago, I accepted that I wasn’t going to be able to save her, to save either of my parents, though my dad would remain in prison for a while longer before I had to worry about him again.
Once I was an adult with a job, whenever either of them showed up on my doorstep, I’d given them money.
I didn’t give it because I believed their lies.
They wouldn’t use the money to get clean, no matter what they said.
No, I’d paid them because it was easier.
The path of least resistance. I’d believed that when Neil had said it.
Nothing about showing up here and facing her was easy, though, whether or not I gave her money.
Not paying her might make her stop coming around.
She never came out of love; she came for what she could get out of me.
If she could no longer get anything, I doubt she’d bother seeing me at all.
There was also the possibility that, without money, she’d do something illegal again and end up back in jail. The thought was almost a relief.
My mom’s eyes narrowed on me, sharp and dark, and she stomped toward my car. I scrambled to open the door, not wanting to be trapped, and Jack caught it, holding it open for me. His appearance made my mom pause.
“About time you showed up,” she snapped, folding her arms across her chest. Our hair color matched, though her hair looked clumped and stringy.
She appeared to be too skinny, like usual, her collarbone sticking out above the tank top that didn’t fully cover her discolored bra.
Her arms were thin and bony. The child I’d been had learned the hard way that they weren’t frail, and for a while I had pictured them with claws on the ends of her fingers, not nails.
“Who’s this now?” she asked, eyeing Jack.