I Can’t Even

Chapter Twenty-four

I did not sleep. I could not eat. Every minute that passed I knew Liam was thinking the worst of us, that we had just cut him out of what was happening with Jessie and left town without a backward glance. I wanted to run next door and demand that he listen to me, but being impulsive hadn’t worked for me before so I forced myself to wait until Liam cooled off. I knew he wouldn’t be in a place to hear me until he had settled down.

Oh, man, we sure were going to laugh about this big ol’ misunderstanding in the future, right? Yeah, right.

Em came home in the early evening, saying something about Soph and one of the artists at the festival hitting it off and that Soph would be home later. I wasn’t really paying attention, but I hoped it wasn’t Sadie of the ceramic va-jay-jays. Then Em headed back out, leaving me to my brooding.

Spaghetti and Meatballs had made themselves right at home on Babs’s divan. I was surprised her ghost didn’t appear to shriek about cat hair on the furniture. I checked the urn on its spot on the windowsill. It didn’t glow or rattle or anything. Amazing.

I kept one eye on Liam’s place while I worked at the kitchen table. I thought I heard a car pull up outside, but by the time I got to the window, the car was gone, and no lights were on in his house. Must’ve been another neighbor. Too bad. I would have used any excuse to go see him in the middle of the night even if it was to yell at him to keep the noise down.

Jessie had texted that she was going to talk to her parents in the morning, so I tabled my worry about Liam to focus on Jessie. I spent the next day with my phone right beside me. Jessie’s ring tone was Shoop , and I had never wanted to hear Salt-N-Pepa coming out of my phone as badly as I did that day. The morning dragged on.

Finally, at half past ten, my phone lit up. I snatched it into my hand without even waiting for the tune to start.

“What happened? How did it go? How’d they take it? Were they mad? Are they coping? Are you okay?” I fired questions like I was using an automatic weapon.

“Whoa, slow down, sweetie,” Jessie said.

Then she started to laugh. It was the confused laugh of a person feeling unexpected emotions. Maybe everything was going to be all right.

“They disowned me,” she said. So not all right then.

“No!” My heart did a free fall from my chest to my feet, and I felt woozy. All these years, the one thing Jessie had been terrified of was that her parents would cut her loose if they discovered the truth; that she would lose their love simply for being herself and now she had.

“It’s okay,” she said, but her voice was thick, and I knew it wasn’t.

“Oh, Jessie.” Tears coursed down my face and my chest ached.

“No, really, it’s cool.” Jessie cleared her throat and took a deep breath. “Because you know what, Jules? I’m free. I don’t have to hide or pretend or bullshit them anymore. If they want me back in their lives, they can find me. I told them I’d leave the door open.”

“I just can’t believe it.” And I really couldn’t. I had known Jessie’s parents since we were kids. They loved their child so much. How could they disown her now just because her path wasn’t one they understood? I was a bit sick and a lot angry. “I’m going to go talk to them.”

“Ah, no, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Jessie said.

“Why not?” I protested. “Maybe they’ll listen to me. They like me.”

“Yeah, there was some discussion, and by that, I mean yelling at optimum volume, that maybe your tomboy ways led me astray.” Jessie sounded like she was trying not to laugh.

“Come again?” I shook my head, truly at a loss.

“It was one of many theories being batted around, you know, after pearls were clutched and a fist went into the wall.”

“Holy crap!”

“Yeah, I’m thinking we all want to steer clear of Casa de Lopez for a while,” Jessie said.

“That sucks!”

“Eh, what can you do?”

“Kick some parental ass?” I offered. She laughed, which had been my intent.

“Hey, I’m fine,” Jessie said. “After all, I’ve still got you.”

“Always,” I said.

“So, you can be my family now,” she said.

“You are going to make such a lovely Blumer sister, really, you’ll put us all to shame,” I said. This time she belly laughed.

“Shut up, brat,” she said. “Listen, Dante is flying later today. He changed his flight and got on the first plane out of New York when I told him what happened. I’m going to have my hands full with him as he, too, would like to have a chat with my parents.”

“Oh boy.” If Jessie’s parents were rejecting her, I didn’t see them embracing her lover.

“Have you talked to Liam yet?” she asked.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I was waiting to hear from you.”

“No, you weren’t. You can not bullshit a bullshitter, Jules,” Jessie said. “You were chickening out. Get your butt over there and tell him what’s what. He was right last night. We should have told him the truth before we left. You owe him the truth now.”

“I know, but it was nine years ago,” I said. “And it’s hard to explain how terrified I was of Babs’s threats back then. She would have made good on them.”

“No doubt, but she can’t do it now. Go. I’m going to bounce while you go clean up your mess. We’ll talk later and you can tell me what happened with you and Liam and whether you need backup or not.”

“All right,” I said. “Hey, I love you.”

“Love you, too, sweetie.”

I ended the call and jumped up from my desk, where absolutely no work was getting done anyway. I dashed toward the door, thinking only of making things right with Liam, but then stopped. Did I want him to see me like this? Hair mussed, no make-up, and wearing my pajamas. Yeah, no.

I ransacked my closet. There was nothing that felt right. I ran down the hall and burst into Em’s room.

“Sorry, Em,” I cried. “I just need to borrow an outfit.”

Her bed was neatly made, almost as if it hadn’t even been slept in. Huh. Then again, it was almost eleven, maybe she’d gone out for donuts or a run or whatever.

I charged her closet. Miniskirt, the boots, and a slinky top that would frame the girls just so. No, no, no. I needed to channel my inner ingénue and present myself as good and innocent and sweet, you know, as Em before she’d gone viral. I needed to make Liam want to listen to me about that night nine years ago, the epic blowout with Babs.

I used a light touch on the make-up and styled my long curls. I didn’t go too crazy since my hair was a feature he loved. I shimmied into the delicate, off-the-shoulder white ruffled sundress I’d chosen and slipped my feet into a pair of girly pumps with daisies on the toes. I looked practically virginal.

Babs’s urn was sitting on the windowsill where we always kept it per her directive. I ran my finger over the sparkly top as if I were trying to call forth a genie. I had so many questions for Babs that would never get answered, not the least of which was why she’d forced me to give up Liam. At the time, I’d thought she didn’t want me knocked up at nineteen like Sophie but now I wondered if she just couldn’t stand that I was happy, that I’d found true love when she never had.

I remember how that night she’d arrived home unexpectedly early from Mahjong due to a headache and found Liam and me in my bed, buck naked, and recuperating from doing the wild thing while we talked about our dream wedding. Babs had flipped her shit. And believe me when I say that’s a gross understatement.

Babs threw Liam out and forbade him from ever seeing me again. When I argued with her, we went toe-to-toe and she leveled me with an ultimatum. I could give up Liam or I could give up going to my first pick college, which was my father’s alma mater, Columbia University in New York City.

My entire academic career I had busted my butt to get accepted there—I’d loved my dad so much and wanted to be just like him. I had scholarships but not a full ride. I was, frankly, dependent upon my mother’s generosity to make up the difference. I screamed and yelled and called her hateful names. She gave as good as she got, calling me an ungrateful whore. We fought for hours and finally, she told me I had to choose.

I told her I chose Liam. It was a major mistake. Made with the brash impetuousness of youth. My mother upped the ante. She looked at her hand and noted that her diamond ring was missing. She then tapped her index finger to her lips and said that she bet Liam stole it and it was a shame she was going to have to call the police on him.

In that moment, staring into the light blue eyes that I had thought were so like my own, I realized she had me. She’d shoved Liam’s backpack at him when she’d tossed him out, and I knew without a doubt that she’d taken the opportunity to plant her ring in his bag. I was stunned. She was willing to sacrifice her most prized possession, a ring with three individually cut one carat flawless diamonds, each one given to her by my dad on the day she birthed each of their daughters, or in my case bought a daughter, to send an innocent boy to jail all to beat me at this power game we were locked in.

“Tell me again what you choose,” she demanded. “A life full of opportunity in New York, or a crap existence being married to a boy with a criminal record, who you will grow to hate by the time you’re twenty-five after you have pushed out his three, four, or five brats.”

I screamed that I hated her and that she wouldn’t get away with it, but she already had. I would never let her go after Liam like that, because she would, I knew that. Just like she knew I would do anything to protect him.

I had refused to answer her and slammed out the front door and into the night. Striding past Liam’s house, I passed Jessie sitting there parked in his Jeep. He told me he was leaving, and I began to cry. He was one of my oldest friends and suddenly it felt as if everything I had ever held dear was being ripped from my grasp.

We drove to the nearby park, and I told Jessie the whole story about Babs and me and the choice she was forcing me to make. Jessie had been my friend since grade school and knew how hard I’d worked to get into Columbia. He was also aware that my mother was not one to be fucked with; if she said she was going to have Liam arrested, she was not bluffing. He then told me he was headed to New York, and if I wanted to catch a ride, he’d be grateful for the company. I said yes.

It had been the decision of a hotheaded eighteen-year-old and I had wished a million times over the years that I had made a different one. I wished I had told Liam the truth about my mother, what she’d done, and about Jessie, and how I had never cheated on him. In fact, I didn’t date another man until my senior year at Columbia when I knew I was never moving home and any lingering feelings I had for Liam Mahony needed to be buried so deep inside of me that they suffocated. I thought I could plant them deep enough. I was wrong.

“Did you know that, Babs?” I scowled at the urn. “Did you know that Liam was the love of my life? That I would never get over him? I would never stop missing him? That I would never be complete until I was with him again? Did you?”

Not surprisingly, no answer was forthcoming. I refused to dwell on the fact that I was now having full conversations with Babs’s ashes. It had been a stressful couple of weeks culminating in this drama between Liam and Jessie. No wonder I was on edge. It was time. I had to tell Liam everything and hope that he could understand and forgive me.

“I used to believe that you were doing what you thought was best,” I said. “I really did, but the damage you caused, it’s marked my whole life, and I don’t know if I can ever forgive you for that.”

A couple tears streaked down my cheeks. I wiped them away with my hands. This was accomplishing nothing. I had to go confront Liam. I had to explain and hope that he had enough love and understanding in his heart to listen and give me one more chance. My kittens were sprawled on the divan and I paused to scratch their chins before I left.

“Wish me luck,” I told them as I shut the door behind me. I was only going next door, so I didn’t bother bringing my phone. I did not want to be disturbed by anyone or anything when I talked to Liam.

Because of the dress, I chose the long way—the sidewalk. It took a few more seconds to get to his house but I figured I needed the time to shore up my courage. He had been so angry last night. How could I blame him? If the situation was reversed, I’d have been furious, too.

“Hi, Liam, I need to talk to you,” I practiced as I walked. No, that sounded too serious. I needed to really get his attention right away. Maybe I should just whip off my dress. We seemed to communicate best on the physical plane. Would that work? Maybe. Ugh. This was when I really wished I had an advanced degree in the male brain.

I blew out a breath and walked the three short steps to the front patio and then crossed to his front door. I pressed on the bell, hearing it ring faintly inside.

No sound came from within. I checked to see that his motorcycle was in the drive. It was. Still, he didn’t answer. I stood in my dress and heels, feeling a bit like a church missionary making the rounds. Had I dressed too innocently? Would he think I was trying to play him? I debated dashing home to change before he saw me? Gah , I was a nervous wreck.

I heard footsteps coming from inside. Okay, escape was not an option. I stiffened my spine. All I had to do was explain and everything would be okay. Liam had said before he didn’t want to discuss the past—that he wanted a fresh start but that had been before Jessie showed up. We weren’t going to be able to move forward together until he listened to me. I just hoped I wasn’t too late.

The door was pulled open, and my breath caught in my throat. Liam stood there, bare-chested in just his pajama bottoms. This sight was absolutely never going to get old for me. Except for the expression on his face, the glare he leveled at me was so fierce I was surprised little fires didn’t break out all over my body. Yes, he looked that mad.

“Hi,” I said. My voice sounded weak, and I cleared my throat. “I was wondering if we could talk.”

He said nothing. His gaze raked over me, taking in the loose hair, the flowing dress, and cute shoes. Somehow, he made the look insulting. Okay, that stung.

“It doesn’t seem like you came to talk.” Liam did not sound even remotely interested in talking or anything else for that matter.

“I was hoping to remind you of better times,” I said.

“What do you want, Blumer?” Ah, so we were back to the last names. Fine.

“There are some things you don’t know,” I said. “Things that I should have told you years ago, but I was so angry and confused—”

“Who’s here, darling?” a voice, a woman’s voice, spoke from behind Liam.

I felt myself go rigid. He had a woman here? Now? My gaze darted to his. His eyes narrowed, taking in my alarm as if assessing it to see if it was genuine.

And then Courtney appeared behind him. She was wearing a silky pink robe over a matching nightie. She pressed her big busty self up against Liam’s bare back and hugged her arms around his middle, propping her chin on his shoulder as she stared at me.

What the holy hell was going on? Had they...? Had he...? I thought my head might explode or I might throw up or both.

Liam didn’t embrace her, but he didn’t push her away either. He just stood there, staring at me with the coldest eyes I had ever seen. I shivered.

“Never mind,” I said. I wasn’t sure how I choked the words out, but I did. “I can see you’re busy.”

“Very busy,” Courtney cooed with a throaty laugh.

The urge to punch her was swift and fierce. I even balled up my fist, but I thought better of it. I raised my hands in surrender and backed away.

I was halfway down the steps when Liam called after me, “Hey, I think we’ve said all we need to say, Blumer.” He huffed out a breath and added, “Don’t come around here anymore.”

I gave a curt nod to let him know I got it and then with my dignity trailing behind me like toilet paper stuck on my shoe, I walked home.

I spent the rest of the afternoon face down on my bed, crying. The only time I got up was when I heard Liam’s motorcycle fire up. I watched as he and Courtney drove off into the beautiful evening together with her sitting on the back of his bike and her arms wrapped around him, her head pressed to the middle of his back. This time when my heart shattered into a thousand pieces, I knew there would be no putting it back together.

Crash!

I woke up to the sound of something breaking. It took me a moment to realize it was completely dark outside and I had been asleep for several hours. Night had fallen and I was still in Em’s dress and my lips and tongue were pasty dry, probably from mouth breathing since my crying jag had clogged my nose. I pushed into a seated position, noting that Spag and Meat were curled up on my pillows just like they did at home.

Crash!

Again? What the hell was happening downstairs? I was up and moving, shoving my feet into my slippers, before I was fully operational. Accompanying the sound of something breaking was the muted tirade of a person muttering, swearing, and crash!

I ran the rest of the way down the steps to the kitchen. Em was already there, peering around the doorjamb as if afraid to enter. I slipped in beside her and she turned her head toward me. Her brown eyes were huge.

“What’s going on?” I whispered.

She pointed to the kitchen and shifted so I could see.

Crash!

“Oh, I’m sooooo sorry,” Soph said to no one.

She was standing in the center of the kitchen, holding a stack of plates that I recognized as Babs’s wedding china. White plates with platinum edges that Babs had used for every corporate dinner party when Dad was alive and every holiday dinner as a family. It was the same set she had coerced Soph to register for when she got married so they could be matchy-matchy. Soph hated them.

“Wait, no I’m not!” Crash! Soph hurled another plate toward the floor. “I hate these fucking plates!”

My eyes went wide. Soph seldom if ever swore.

Crash! Crash! Crash!

My older sis hurled the plates at the floor and then reached onto the counter for a gravy boat and pitched that, too. Her bob was mussed, her mascara smudged, and her dress wrinkled. She looked like she’d been caught in a street fight and lost.

“Sixteen years of marriage,” Soph yelled. Crash! “Sixteen! And what do I find when I stop by your office? You with your pants down around your ankles while you plow your office manager on her desk from behind! Argh!”

Crash! Crash! Crash!

“Oh, Stantastic, you miserable prick,” I muttered.

Crash!

“You weren’t attached to those dishes, were you?” I asked.

“No, they’re awful,” Em said.

Crash!

“And as if that wasn’t enough, you son of a bitch, you actually wanted me to apologize for interrupting you by not calling or knocking first. Argh!” Soph let out a feral cry, reached for a stack of dessert plates, and hurled the whole lot of them at the ground. Em and I covered our ears.

“Apologize? Apologize? Do you know how many times I apologize in a single day? Seventy- eight! How do I know? Because I’ve counted. Seventy-eight times! Who does that?” Soph cried.

Her chest was heaving and her brown eyes were snapping with rage. I had never seen Soph this angry. It was as if her fury had cracked open the everything is awesome facade that she wore every single day like a Mardi Gras mask on Fat Tuesday.

“I’m getting scared. What do we do?” Em asked.

“Wait until she’s out of plates,” I said.

“I’m sorry it rained on your golf game.” Crash! “I’m sorry I can’t volunteer for the blood drive on top of the food drive while planting seedlings at the dog park which we’re having a five K run to raise money for while I drive twelve children in a carpool, only one of which is mine, for music lessons.” Crash! “I’m sorry you can’t find the ketchup in the refrigerator. I’m sorry I’ve gained five pounds. I’m sorry the house is a mess. I’m sorry I’m not enough!” Crash! Crash! Crash!

Em and I stood at the door waiting to be sure there were no more dishes anywhere. When Soph started to sink toward the floor, which was ankle deep in china shrapnel, we rushed forward with our arms open and bookended Soph, keeping her upright while we hauled her out of the kitchen. We sat her in the middle of the couch and took positions on each side of her.

“Soph, breathe.” I was worried about her pallor and feared she might faint.

She took a shaky, shuddering, breath and said, “I’m sorry.”

Then she laughed a bit hysterically as it was mixed with sobs. Em rubbed her back while I held her hands. There was so much I wanted to say, like how much I had always disliked Stan and how I always suspected he was a no-good piece of garbage. I forced myself to be quiet, to listen, to support her. It was so freaking hard when I really wanted to get in the car, find Stan, and run over him two or three times.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Em asked.

“No.” Soph shook her head. “It’s the oldest story in the book. Middle-aged husband loses interest in old, boring wife and cheats.” She glanced at the ceiling and sighed. “I guess Mom and I have something in common now, huh?”

I studied my sister’s ravaged face and slowly exhaled. I wondered if Babs had felt this betrayed by our dad. It made me uncomfortable but knowing how much Babs valued her status of “wife,” I had a feeling she had felt exactly like this if not even worse, because, of course Dad had stuck her with me, a living breathing testament to his infidelity. My stomach cramped. Since discovering the truth of my birth, I had made Babs the villain, but the truth was, she’d been the victim and didn’t that just make things even more complicated.

“What are you going to do?” Em asked.

“I don’t know.” Soph sounded forlorn and that hurt more than anything. My sister who always had it together seemed completely lost.

“He’s a selfish prick, Soph, and he always has been,” I said, my temper getting in the way of my common sense.

“Don’t!” she snapped. “He is my husband and the father of my children. We have been together for over sixteen years so, yes, maybe things are a bit strained, but that’s life. Not all of us just runaway when the going gets tough.”

The very air between us stilled. If I thought she meant it, I would have been crushed but since I knew she was lashing out, I just paused, waiting.

“I am so sorry,” Soph said. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. God, I’m such a bitch.”

That made me laugh. If there was ever anyone who wasn’t a bitch, it was Soph.

“You are not, and you’re forgiven,” I said. “I’m the one who pushed. I owe you an apology. I am sorry. I love you. Please forgive me. Your situation with Stan is none of my business. I just care.”

“You’re my sister,” Soph said. “Of course, it’s your business. Please don’t say anything to the twins. They leave in a few days, and I want them to have a fabulous trip and not worry about their parents’ marriage. It’s good that I’m staying here for the summer. It’ll give me some time to figure things out.”

Soph twisted her fingers in her lap and then rose to stand. “I should go cleanup my mess.”

“Stop,” I said. “We’ve got this. Why don’t you go get some rest? I’ll order us some dinner. Thai food, okay?”

“I’m not hungry.” Soph’s narrow shoulders bowed. Em and I exchanged a look of utter helplessness. This sucked.

“You know, I met a Voodoo priestess down by the pier the other day,” Em said. “Want me to ask her to make a doll of Stan? We could stick pins in his wanker.”

“Yeah, a case of permanent limp dick,” I cheered.

Soph blinked and then busted out a laugh. She hugged Em and then me. “I love you guys.”

“We love you, too,” we said together.

We watched as she slowly climbed the stairs. My bright bubbly older sister looked gutted. Oh, I wanted to punch Stan until my arm gave out.

It took us an hour to clean the kitchen. Tiny shards of china managed to get into every crack and crevice, and we took turns sweeping, vacuuming, and hauling bags out to the trash. The Thai food arrived, and Em brought some up to Soph, but she insisted she wasn’t hungry. We put it in the fridge for her if she changed her mind.

We decided to eat outside by the fire pit. Halfway through our meal, Em’s phone buzzed, and she glanced at the screen. Her eyebrows lifted a little, and I knew she was about to disappear to wherever it was that Em had been disappearing to. I swear she was worse than the cats and I was beginning to suspect the three of them had access to a magical portal that took them to another dimension, because honestly one minute they were there and the next minute – poof!

“I have to go,” she said. “There’s a thing.”

I stared at her over my cardboard carton of pad thai. There had been a lot of “things” lately and every time we asked her about them, she was vague, like CIA-operative vague, and then later we’d see the “thing” posted on her social media account.

“Just promise me you’re not jumping naked out of a plane or anything,” I said.

“I’m not...not tonight anyway,” Em said. Then she smiled.

I snorted. My kid sister, the rebel, I gotta say I never saw that coming.

“Are you going to be okay?” Em asked. I had told her about the Liam debacle while we cleaned.

“Yeah,” I said. “I’m good.”

Em studied me as if she knew I was lying and wished she knew what to say to make it better. There was nothing anyone could say. I had lost the love of my life twice and both times it was my own stupid fault for not telling him what was going on before it was too late. I really was too stupid to live.

“I’m sorry,” Em said. “I wish I could fix this for you.”

“Me, too, Em-ergency.” I grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze as she walked by.

Em paused and then leaned over my seat to give me a hug. I hugged her back. Coming home had been brutal in so many ways, but the one thing I held dear was that the bond with my sisters was growing stronger every day. Oh, how I had missed them. Em planted a kiss on my head and then disappeared into the house. I couldn’t help but wonder what that girl was up to now.