Chapter 15 #2
Luckily, Hawk and Mushroom talked a lot about people in the club, so I have some context for all this information that’s being thrown at me.
“Have you settled in yet?” Jameela asks me. “Are you staying at the clubhouse?”
“No, we’re with Hawk for now,” I say.
My eyes find the man we’re talking about, but when he looks up, I pretend to examine DJ’s nails.
“I’ll start work as soon as I sort out childcare,” I add, needing to justify myself for some reason.
The tall, pale young man with curly brown hair, whom Shroomie introduced as Cotton, excuses himself and goes off to a corner of the yard to smoke.
Judging from how often she mentioned him to me in the last two months, I strongly suspected he was her crush, but seeing them interact in person, it’s glaringly obvious that she more than likes him. Is Cotton only pretending, or is he truly oblivious to it?
I look at Shiner questioningly. He looks heavenwards in exasperation.
“There’s a few more people who live in the clubhouse full time, but they couldn’t be here today,” he tells me.
“Do you mind if I steal our new friend for a moment?” Lucy asks as she approaches the group. “There is someone I want her to meet.”
She walks me over to the food, where a cute brunette is arranging some bowls. Another woman, darker in both hair and mood, is standing next to her.
“This is Dana,” Lucy tells me, “she runs the Friendly Fork. And this is Monica.”
“Nice to meet you,” Dana tells me warmly.
Monica only nods at me, but gives DJ a big smile.
“Thank you for putting me in touch with your niece. I look forward to meeting her.”
“No problem. I hope it’ll be a good fit.”
A man getting food next to her says, “Is there no more mac and cheese?”
“Nope,” Dana says with a stiff smile.
“Should’ve gotten here earlier, Cash,” Lucy tells him, and he makes a stink face.
“There should be food, regardless of when I get here.”
“There is food, just not the kind you like. Besides, the party is to welcome our new members, not for you to stuff your face,” Lucy says, pointing at me.
I want the ground to open up and swallow me. This is the first unfriendly person here, and although he’s not saying anything to me directly, there’s an unsettled feeling in my stomach. I turn DJ towards me so he can look over my shoulder, and I press my cheek to his.
“This is Cash,” Lucy says after no one else speaks. “And this is Marissa.”
“Hi,” I tell him with a small smile.
He nods. “Call me if you bring out more mac and cheese,” he tells Dana, then goes back into the clubhouse with his plate.
Dana shakes her head disapprovingly.
I widen my eyes at Lucy, and she laughs. “That’s Cash for ya. He handles the club's accounting and investments. He's our genius hermit who basically lives in his office.”
“Have you met everyone?” Lucy asks me after Dana leaves.
I look around the yard. “I think so, everyone but her,” I say as I gesture towards a nicely dressed blonde talking to Doc.
“Let’s go,” Lucy smiles. “Paging doctor Yoda,” she tells the woman as we approach, and they both laugh.
“Oh, Lucy, don’t ruin my day off,” the blonde says before extending her hand. “Hi, I’m Emily, but the Chasers call me Yoda.”
“Nice to meet you, Emily,” I say, ignoring the stab of pain that hearing my mom’s name still causes in my chest.
“We call her Yoda because she’s a shrink,” Lucy tells me conspiratorially.
“Emily just finished her residency and accepted a permanent position at the psychiatric unit of the same hospital that I work at,” Doc explains.
“Miguel is a nephrologist,” Lucy explains.
I don’t let on that I don’t know what that means. I’m too busy being self-conscious that this woman, who is barely older than I am, has completed medical school and residency and is now a gorgeous, well-dressed blonde doctor.
I wipe my palms against DJ’s shirt.
I pray to God that no one asks about my education or employment history, so I can avoid uttering the phrases:
between jobs
lunch lady
barely got through high school
Suddenly, it feels like the room is spinning around me.
This party is filled with all these accomplished, interesting people with cool jobs, amicable relationships with their exes, deep friendship bonds, and here I am, the outsider, a poor, unemployed, single mother, reliant on charity to find employment and a place to live.
Aimless.
What the hell is wrong with me? Why did I move here with a man I barely know? Why do I always make these big, stupid, impulsive decisions whenever tragic things happen?
As if sensing that I’m about to lose it, Hawk comes over and announces, “Marissa hasn’t eaten yet. Let her process all the names and info you and Shroomie have thrown at her.”
People exchange amused looks and, in my emotionally raw state, it rubs me the wrong way. It feels like they’re laughing at me.
I’m still beating myself up when we arrive at the food table. I put DJ back in his stroller so I can make myself a plate, and that’s when I see it.
Tank reaches for the box with my cake in it while talking to Squid, who stops the motion with his hand and shakes his head while whispering in Tank’s ear. Tank then moves to another dessert.
My stomach feels like someone dropped a boulder inside it. I try taking several deep breaths, but nothing changes. That deep, heavy, sinking feeling isn’t going anywhere. Then, the telltale burning in my nose and eyes starts.
I can’t take it any longer. I rush back into the building, jostling poor DJ like a bag of potatoes. By the time I reach the family room, I’m blind with tears. I plop down on one of the gray couches and bury my face in my hands to muffle the sobs.
I soon hear steps, but I refuse to look up. A hand squeezes my shoulder as I feel the couch cushions shift from the added weight. Hawk’s perfume betrays him.
“Wanna tell me what just happened out there?”
His kind, familiar voice makes me blubber even harder while he patiently rubs my back up and down, up and down. Several minutes pass before I calm down enough to put my hands down, after wiping my nose on my sleeve.
“I shouldn’t have come here,” I say, and Hawk looks like I stabbed him. “I feel like I’m intruding, like no one wants me here. I knew it would be like this again. I don’t know why I stupidly hoped-” A sob prevents me from finishing that thought.
“Did someone say something to make you think that?” He asks darkly.
I shake my head. “They didn’t have to. They’ve been avoiding my cake like I’m a leper.”
A huge, inappropriate grin dawns on his face, and he relaxes into the couch. “Marissa, baby.” He sighs and runs his hand over his head. “The cake you bought… It’s a boozy cake, soaked in rum. We’re all recovering addicts here, or sober for other reasons.”
My hand flies to my mouth. “That’s why Bev marked it.”
He nods sheepishly. “Most of us find the scent and taste of alcohol triggering, and we avoid it. I’m sorry.
I didn’t want to say anything at the bakery earlier because you were so happy when you got the last one.
I knew the club would be cool about it. I was too focused on making sure you have a great time meeting everyone, with no stress, but I made it worse. ”
“No, I’m sorry! I knew you were a recovering alcoholic, but my mind never made the connection between the cake and that. You even asked me not to bring booze into your home! Shit.”
I feel like an idiot. An idiot who’s crying again.
“Hey,” he chastises me gently as he intertwines his fingers with mine. “Don’t beat yourself up. It’s an understandable oversight.”
“Promise to tell me next time I do something like this?”
“I promise,” he says and lifts my hand to his lips.
“It’s all so much,” I say through the tears.
“I can imagine. New house, new people, a whole new life.”
“I feel so alone all of a sudden.”
“You have me, Marissa. You have the twins; they’re your biggest champions. And Bev already looks like she wants to adopt you.”
That makes me smile, but he’s not done.
“And you do belong, and we all want you here. You know why? You’re just like us, you’re brave, you’re someone who’s a helper. Someone who thought of others even in what she believed might be her dying hour.”
I don’t wanna cry again, so I bury my nose in DJ’s neck and breathe.
“Thank you,” I whisper, and Hawk simply nods.
“I’ll be waiting for you outside, whenever you’re ready.”
I soon go back out and approach Hawk, who seems to be getting a scolding from Bev. I apologize for the cake misunderstanding, and she tells me I’m not the first person that kind of thing has happened to.
“Not all of us are battling addiction,” she explains.
“Some, like myself, are partners of recovering addicts. Some, like Uncle and the twins, are adult children of addicts and live a sober lifestyle because of that. And some, like Subhi and Arjun, avoid alcohol and drugs due to religious prohibitions. The one thing we all have in common is that we’ve made our fair share of mistakes, and an honest mistake is nothing to be ashamed of. ”
My nose stings again, but I resist the desire to cry. Is this what Hawk was talking about when he spoke of emotional aftershocks? This entire day has been such a rollercoaster that I don’t think a week in bed would be enough to recover.
“Okay, I’m hungry,” I say and hand DJ to Hawk before I embark on my second attempt at getting some food, and I don’t think much about it until I hear him tell Bev, ”This is the first time I’m holding him.”
The awe in his voice almost makes me drop my plate. I turn around, and my heart melts at the sight of big, bald, mean-looking Hawk, awkwardly holding my darling son.
Red and Bev are beaming at him proudly in between trying to make DJ laugh.
My son and I could be happy here, I think.
For the first time in a long time, I allow myself to hope.