Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
RAMONA
S plinters of bark from the dead tree flew with each blow, but the tape on my hands protected my knuckles enough.
Alone in the forest, I used the sturdy trunk as a punching bag since my brother didn’t have one, and I needed something sturdier.
I kept my phone on vibrate, so at least, the notifications of my mother’s texts didn’t interrupt the music blaring in my ears. I aimed another combo at the imaginary opponent, this time throwing it southpaw just because. The unfamiliar stance felt weird, but it focused my thoughts on that, instead of Mom’s threats that’d started bright and early today.
Momster
Ramona Marie Wells. When did you stop sharing your location? We already know that you dropped out. Where the fuck are you.
You ungrateful child, answer your damn phone.
Your father is worried sick. Unless you want him contacting the police to find you, answer. The damn. Phone.
Even with my headphones on, I could feel the vibrations of my phone beneath my bare feet. It sat on top of my shedded hoodie, and another two texts from Mom left me throwing jabs in quick succession, fighting with what to do. If she knew that I was at O’s, she’d blow up all of this. My peace with my brother’s family and what was growing between Río and I.
When I finally pulled back from the tree, chest heaving and breaths ragged, I’d gouged a crater into the side of it and felt no better than I had when I came out here. The pastel blue above had deepened slightly with the passing hours, and I went back to my stuff. If I kept on, the dead maple would collapse all together.
Ignoring the screen full of messages from my mother—and none from my father—I went to my string of messages with Río. Instead of the text I expected, there was a voice message.
I set it to play while I rolled out my shoulders and started a quick round of stretches. “Hey, Princess. Just wanted to say that I missed ya. Work is bullshit right now, and I wanted to hear your voice. Don’t make that face—you’ve got the prettiest little bit of raspiness that hits my ears just right. I know you got babysitting duty tonight, so I guess it’ll just help me miss you more. Whadoyou wanna do tomorrow? I’m thinkin ’ you, me, some good takeout at the skate spot, then back to mine where you can smother me with that pretty little pussy. Just a thought. Anyway, see ya sweet cheeks.”
The incredulous laugh that flew out of my mouth, along with the blush creeping up my neck and face, was a welcome distraction. And a relief that he seemed back to his normal self. Seeing my Jaguar haunted by the memories of his family and his sister’s visit didn’t even piss me off. It just made me so sad for him and embarrassingly emotional. At least with anger, I could do something.
I snatched up my hoodie, shook it out, and pulled it over my sweaty body. If I knew I’d be able to return to the cabin and make a beeline for the shower without anyone seeing me, I would’ve stayed in just the sports bra and shorts.
After thinking over my response to Río and walking back toward the cabin, I started my own audio message. “First, skating and food sounds good. Although, I’ll be choosing what we eat, because that sushi was mediocre at best. Second, I don’t know about my voice, but… I like yours too. Third, you’re absolutely ridiculous, but if it’ll get you to shut up for once, I’ll sit on your face all night.” That last part made more heat flame on my face, but I hit send before I decided to rerecord it. A night away from him wasn’t great, but I had an afternoon in the witch house gardens with Sylvie and Delaney later, as well as the movie I was gonna watch with Dahlia and Ollie already decided on.
The sight of the cabin emerged as I walked out of the forest, knuckles still a little red as I unraveled the tape. My brother was sitting on the porch in one of the black rocking chairs, book in hand as he talked softly with Ollie who sat in his lap. They were reading a large board book, and when I got closer, they both looked up with small smiles of greeting.
My brother and I both nodded at each other as I passed into the house, and I waved at Sylvie as I walked into the kitchen for a glass of water. The record player was going, music louder than usual to account for the sink running. Dahlia sat in a chair from the dining room, boosted with books and cushions so that the back of her head could dangle over the sink. Sylvie was answering the random questions my niece fired off in her toddler curiosity as she rinsed out the shampoo from my niece’s hair and began to detangle her curls with a wide tooth comb.
Dahlia gave me a happy little wave, neck craned back at an angle but padded with a towel to keep her away from the hard counter edge. I waved back and went off for my shower, almost forgetting why I’d even needed to run out into the forest in the first place.
I paced the living room, clutching my phone tightly as another string of texts came through. Luckily, the babies were in bed now, but not having the excuse to ignore this part of my life made me feel like I was suffocating. Orion and Sylvie would be gone until the early hours of the morning, if past pack runs were any indication. So, I was stuck.
Now, the babies had been read to and were sound asleep, so there was no more ignoring the slew of texts that were from someone I definitely didn’t want to talk to. My phone went off again, though this time, the notification wasn’t the simple bell of a text but the ringing of a call. I checked the screen and felt like I was going to throw up. A video call.
Frozen, I watched my father FaceTime me, but I couldn’t bring myself to do anything—to accept or reject the call. Shit, shit, shit , and just to jam the knife in further, a text from Mom came through and hung like a banner announcing my execution.
Momster
You answer your father. Now.
Cornered.
Really, I knew that I’d eventually have to face my parents. That, though I’d been transferring money from the accounts they managed to ones solely in my name since I was in high school, they’d eventually find out that I wasn’t living business-as-usual in my apartment near campus. That they’d discover I’d withdrawn from school, packed my shit, and left.
What did it say about me that it took them months? This was probably the first time Dad had even inquired about me at all.
It was like smoothing fuzzy felt over my senses, over my mind, as I walked to the room I’d claimed as mine and opened my laptop. Sure enough, another incoming FaceTime from Dad rang on the screen, and this time, my finger moved woodenly to accept.
I wasn’t surprised when I was met with my mother seated at the kitchen island. Her white-blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail, which made her icy blue eyes pull even sharper. For some reason, mine focused in on the shiny white cabinets and countertops behind her. The green tile backsplash only adding to the coldness. Even across miles and two screens, I could tell that the house was silent, as it always was. No constant crooning from a record player, no warm brown from wooden walls. Any homemade meals were made by whichever chef Mom had hired. I thought the current one was Yusef, but I could’ve been wrong.
“Well, I see you’re hiding out with your brother.”
The disappointment and venom were almost sharp enough to open up the scars on my arm. But the fuzziness was my buffer, tried and true, for as long as I could remember. That day before I left for Antler Pointe, it’d worn down, but maybe it was still enough. To at least last through this. I missed Río.
“I wanted to visit.”
Mom narrowed her eyes, and her lips pinched. “You decided to drop out, leave your apartment—which we’re still paying for, by the way—and essentially go missing to go visit your brother? How ungrateful and stupid can you be, Ramona?” Her words got hissy at the end, her voice low and cheeks flushing with an angry pink.
When my father entered the room and sat beside her, it was like a strip of my barrier fell away. I shifted in my seat on the floor beside the guest bed, balancing the laptop on my knees. “Ra Ra, what’s going on?” I bit the inside of my cheek, hard enough to taste blood. Dad was dressed in his typical casual attire, today’s being a black Nike sweatshirt and joggers. All my life, it seemed, I saw him in some variation of this or the suits he wore while commentating on television. There was practically no in-between.
But Casual Dad was the one who took me to the skating rink and for ice cream that first time. Now, he looked at me with mild concern bunching his black brows. His expertly cut low fade was a black shadow against his deep brown skin. I could practically smell the cologne he always wore.
“Hey, Dad. I’m at O and Sylvie’s. Helping with the kids.”
He looked even more confused, “Did they ask you to do that?” My brother and father had never really had much of a relationship. There wasn’t animosity, just a distant respect. After he’d gotten married to Sylvie and they had the kids, the dynamic hadn’t shifted at all.
“No,” I swallowed, “I asked if I could visit.” Dad looked toward Mom, whose face had melted into one of demure concern. She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and waited for him to speak again.
Dad’s frown deepened. “You really had us worried, kiddo. We had to pull some strings to find out what was going on—why haven’t you been answering your phone?”
Because I was a glutton for punishment, I allowed the fuzziness to shift and blurted, “You called me?”
He looked perplexed for a moment. For that brief time, I imagined it was because he was wondering how he’d gone so long without checking in on me. But when he turned his eyes to my mom beside him, I knew that the thought hadn’t even occurred to him. She cut in, voice ten times softer as she glanced at my dad. “It’s all right, honey. I was just scared and didn’t know what to do. Your father saved the day and was able to pull some strings with the school to find out you’d withdrawn.”
Dad nodded and turned my own eyes back at me. “Why in the world would you do that? All that work just down the toilet, and for what? I know we spoil you, Ra Ra, but this is unacceptable.”
I fought to keep my face blank, and when my mom spoke up, it was the voice of the good submissive wife. She sighed, “Don’t get worked up, Sean. Do you want a drink or something to eat?”
Dad grunted in answer and watched Mom get up and start moving about the kitchen. He relaxed back in his seat and rested an arm on the marble island surface. “You got anything to say for yourself?”
I was losing the battle. He was treating me like I’d had a tantrum and ran up his credit cards. Hot tears collected just at the edges of my lashes, and I batted them away with the heel of my hand before they could fall.
“Well? When are you gonna stop this foolishness?”
“Whenever I feel like it,” I spat back with anger that was taking over my frustration.
That, at least, my father picked up on. I was wearing Río’s sweatshirt, and the sleeves were more than long enough to cover my scars. Even before, when they were shorter nicks to just release the tension in my mind, he’d never noticed. At least, at the time, I chalked it up to my fast healing erasing all of the evidence by the next day.
But this time I’d fucking tried to kill myself. In the moment, I’d barely even thought about my parents, just the relief I was feeling at the fact that everything was nearly over.
Now, though, I felt that suffocating block climbing up my chest and into my throat. My chest was so tight I could hardly breathe.
Dad’s eyes widened then narrowed. “I don’t know who you think you’re talking to, but I’m not one of your little friends. Lord knows I thought you’d grow out of this shit by now.” My fingers were itching, the back of my mind already trying to plan how to get to the nearest sharp object. Just to take the edge off a little.
Mom popped up on the screen, putting a sandwich and a can of coke in front of my father. Some of her harshness seeped through as she spoke, “You apologize to your father, right now.”
Instead of a response, I gave a dry laugh. At this point, I didn’t think even showing them my scars would have them believing that what I was experiencing was real. What did I have to be depressed about, anyway? I’d never wanted for anything. All that I needed was provided for me, and even with their anger, my parents never threatened to cut me off.
“You need to get your shit together. There is no damn reason for you to be acting like this. Are you even thinking about your future? How much work we’ve put into helping you succeed in this world? I didn’t work my ass off for you to think you can just lay up spending my money forever.” It wasn’t worth it to reveal to them that I’d had a part-time job on campus since the third week of freshman year. That I’d juggled working in the campus library and my classes, all while feeling like I was walking through a sludgy dream.
Just as the plan solidified, to go into the kitchen and bring back one of the kitchen knives to my room, my eyes landed on Ollie’s toy chest that rested in the corner. It was still open from when I’d been in the middle of straightening up the house after bedtime and been interrupted by the slew of texts from my mom.
A wet sob choked up my throat. I’d been about to hurt myself in Ollie’s room. With one of my brother’s knives that he used to make meals for us, something that made him feel at peace.
Dad’s expression loosened, but his voice still had a harsh edge. “We’ll give you some time to think about your actions. At least we know you’re safe at Orion’s. But best believe that if you don’t come to your senses, we’re dragging your ass back here.”
Mom sat back down next to him, and when their eyes met, she nodded and leaned into him. “You know what’s best, Sean. And I agree. We’ll keep checking in.”
Dad gave a final nod, and they may have said more, but it was all muffled, distant. I snapped my laptop closed, and as I climbed under the covers enclosed in a circle of more blankets, I held my face into one of the pillows while I tried to cry as quietly as possible. My body shook with rage and despair and longing for my Jaguar, and that’s how I fell asleep. Tear-soaked pillow sticking to my cheeks while I fought to still keep one ear open to make sure the babies were sleeping soundly.