Twenty-Eight #3
Her words touch something deep inside me.
I ruminate over them for the rest of the night, while Tiffany gives me a warm hug goodbye, when before leaving she suggests that I come back to class this week, our last week before the holidays.
I think on her words in the shower and when I lie in bed.
I think about them for hours, until I watch the first streaks of dawn appear.
Finally, it’s clear to me. It is perfectly clear to me where I need to go to start over.
The next morning, I wake up with a determination and motivation that I thought I’d lost forever. I have a goal in mind, but I plan to go after it only once I’ve discharged all of my responsibilities. Specifically, passing the exams required to move on to the next semester.
I force myself to go to every class all week, and I realize with no small amount of pain that what Tiffany told me about Thomas is true.
He’s withdrawn from all our shared courses.
Alex, on the other hand, is always waiting for me on campus, and he does everything he can to make sure I’m okay.
We don’t have much time to spend together, however, because he finishes his exams two days before me and leaves immediately for New York to celebrate Stella’s birthday.
***
On Saturday morning, after having taken my last exam (philosophy), I decide I’m not going to waste any more time, and spring into action.
I jump out of bed. I put on jeans, a sweatshirt, my Converse, and a heavy jacket.
On autopilot, I grab an elastic band to tie up my hair, but feeling it between my fingers, I remember that I’ve cut my hair, and I feel almost sorry.
For the first time, I get the slightest twinge of nostalgia for my very thick, very long hair.
I get my largest duffel bag out of the closet and start haphazardly stuffing clothes into it.
I zip it shut. Then I get out my wallet and check that I have enough cash.
I also take a quick look at my ID and travel documents, making sure nothing’s expired.
Then I put on my woolen hat and walk out of my apartment.
I move hastily through the halls of the student dorm, fully aware that I look like I’m on the run.
Fortunately, it’s seven forty-five in the morning and practically no one else is around.
I call an Uber to take me off campus and straight to his old house.
The one where Mrs. Gorman now lives, an elderly widow famous in the neighborhood for her tasty lemon meringue pies.
When we stop in front of the house, I feel a chill remembering the last time that I was here. I remember feeling unwanted, almost like an intruder.
My stomach is in knots as I ring the doorbell, and a few moments later, Mrs. Gorman opens the door. Her hair, pulled back with a clip, is even whiter than it was the last time I saw her. “Hi, Mrs. Gorman, do you remember me?”
When Mrs. Gorman bought this house three years ago, I visited her every now and then.
She doesn’t have any children, and her husband’s dead, so I felt bad that she spent so much time alone.
But after I started college, my visits unfortunately got fewer and farther between.
I feel a little guilty showing up here after a year and a half just to pry some information out of her.
“Oh, do I remember!” she says enthusiastically, peering at me through the glasses balanced on the tip of her nose.
“How could I forget those big gray eyes? Come in, dear, come in.” She waves me inside and forces me to sit down at a kitchen table laden down with cookies and breakfast sweets. I must have interrupted her.
“I know it’s really early. I hope I didn’t disturb you, Mrs. Gorman,” I say, taking off my hat.
“Of course you didn’t! And, for goodness’ sake, call me by my first name.” She grabs the coffee pot and pours its contents into a mug before handing it to me. “Black, no sugar, am I remembering right?”
“You remember perfectly, Dorothy. Thanks, I really needed this.” I smile at her before taking a long sip.
She sits down next to me and grabs some shortbread cookies, putting them on a napkin and sliding it under my nose. My stomach is locked up tight, but I know she’d feel bad if I don’t at least try one. So I force myself to take a bite.
“It’s been a while since I’ve seen you. You’ve become a young lady.” She tenderly touches my cheek with the back of her wrinkled hand. “Are you doing well?”
“Yes, thanks,” I lie, chewing on my lip. If I recounted some of the recent events of my life…poor woman, she’d probably have a heart attack.
She gives me a careful once-over; then her eyes land on my bag, and her forehead creases in a frown. “Are you going somewhere?”
I lower my gaze to the bag as well. “Sort of.”
“Aren’t you in school? You’re not going to tell me you’ve dropped out, are you?”
“Oh, no. Don’t worry, Dorothy. I took my last exam yesterday, and today is the first day of winter break.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful. And where are you headed?”
It takes me a moment to answer because a lump is blocking my throat. I swallow the last bit of cookie, dab the corners of my mouth, and say, “To Montana.” I swallow before adding: “I want to find my dad.”
The first few times I came to visit Dorothy, I’d told her about the separation, about Bethany and my father’s baby.
I explained how Bethany hated me so much that she didn’t want my father to have anything to do with me.
I only found out they were moving by pure chance.
My father and I hadn’t talked for a while—little by little, he stopped calling and quit taking my calls.
But sometimes, on my way home, I would walk past their driveway, just to feel a little closer to him.
One afternoon when I was doing just that, I saw a sign on their lawn with the words FOR SALE printed on it.
I remember feeling completely devastated.
I ran to the door, howling like a maniac, looking for my father.
But it was Bethany who opened the door and told me about their imminent move to Montana.
I was so shocked and angry that I just stormed away.
I didn’t understand how my father could possibly have made such a huge decision without even telling me.
Sometime later, I went back to ring the doorbell again, hoping that I was wrong.
But it was Dorothy who appeared in the doorway, and my father really was gone.
He left me alone with my mother, to live a life without him.
He, who had always been my fixed point, my anchor, was abandoning me with an ease that completely felled me.
Did I really matter so little? I burst into tears on the porch, and Dorothy invited me into her home for the first time.
Grateful to her, I came back to visit frequently in the following days.
During one of those visits, Dorothy confessed to me that she’d found my father’s new address.
It happened by accident when she’d gotten a letter for my father and contacted him to have it forwarded to his new house.
I refused to write it down, though. I was too angry.
I didn’t want to know anything about him anymore.
But now things are different. After hearing Tiffany’s advice, I feel like I have to face all of my demons if I ever want to feel good again.
Dorothy is surprised for a moment. Then, without batting an eye, she gets up from the table with slow, weary movements and heads for the entryway.
I track her with my eyes and watch as she pulls a crumpled piece of paper from a chest of drawers.
“I knew this moment would come, sooner or later.” She returns to me and, smiling sweetly, presses the note into my hands. “The address is right here.”
Twenty minutes later, I’m at the airport.
The panic that grips me as I stare at the flight information boards is directly proportional to the size of this place.
It’s the first time I’ve ever set foot in an airport in my life.
And I’m doing it alone. Without the slightest idea of what is waiting for me.
My throat is dry and my breathing is labored as I fan myself with a one-way ticket to Billings, Montana.
Part of me can’t help but think that I’d feel better if Thomas were here. More secure. More protected. Ready to face what comes. But he’s not here. And that’s not what I really want. I can be enough. I want to—and I have to—learn how to be enough.
When my phone rings, I answer without even checking who it is, because I can’t tear my eyes away from the boards.
“Hello?”
“You finished all your exams and I’m proud of you, but don’t think you’re going to get away from me that easily. We’re going Christmas shopping this afternoon!”
“Tiff…” I murmur, unable to add anything else.
“I’ll swing by after lunch, so be ready. I don’t want to hear any excuses.”
“Uh, I…I can’t.”
“Why not? Don’t tell me you’re back in bed!”
“No, I’m…I’m at the airport.”
Silence falls for a few moments while I imagine her blinking in surprise.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“In ten minutes, I’m getting on a flight to Montana.”
Again, there is a very long, very anxious silence. “Did you by chance hit your head recently?”
“I know it sounds crazy. But I’ve thought a lot about what you said to me the other night. About needing to reconstruct my life, remember?”
“Sure, but what does that have to do with Montana?” she asks, unsettled.
“It has to do with Montana because that’s where my father lives.”
“Oh…” she says loudly, as if everything has suddenly become clear to her. “I forgot about that.”
“Yeah.”
“Wow, I get it. And what are you going to do when you get there?”
“I don’t know.” I sit down in a flimsy chair, letting out all the air from my lungs. “Honestly, I haven’t the faintest. I don’t have a plan. I just want to talk to him. I want to ask him why he left, why he stopped reaching out to me.”
“Montana isn’t exactly next door, though. It’s kinda wild to go by yourself, especially at the last minute like this.”
“I’ll be careful. I’m sorry I’m telling you this over the phone, but I didn’t want to talk about my plan before it came together. And then everything happened so fast this morning, and before I knew it, I was standing here with a one-way ticket in my hand.”
“Why a one-way? Nessy, just how long are you intending to be gone?”
I take a deep breath. “I’ll be back by the start of next semester. After winter break.”
“Three weeks?”
“I know it’s a long time, but I feel like I really have to do this. I feel like I need to take some time for myself, no matter how it goes with my dad. I need to get away from all the turmoil here in Corvallis.”
“Aha!” I hear her swear under her breath.
“I knew he was behind this insanity somehow. Goddamned Collins. I swear, I’m gonna kill him.
I’m actually going to kill him this time!
Yes, you dick, I’m talking to you! You’re a dead man, you hear?
” I can hear her yelling from far away, like she’s pulled the phone away from her face for the moment.
And then my heart stops at the idea that she might actually be addressing Thomas.
That he’s right there, a few feet away from her.
“Hey, Tiff. Listen, I don’t want you to be mad at him.
He hurt me, not you. And please believe me when I say that he’s not the only reason I feel like I need to do this.
It’s a combination of everything. You were right, I need to find a way to start myself over again.
And I can’t do that if I’m standing still in the same place while everything goes to hell around me.
If I don’t do it now when it’s vacation and school is closed, I don’t know when I’m going to get another chance. ”
Tiff answers after a few seconds of silence. “Please just tell me you know what you’re doing.”
“I do.”
“Are you truly, truly sure about this, Nessy?”
“I am. It’s not just a whim, I promise. I want to do this. I need to.”
Another prolonged silence. So prolonged that, at a certain point, I start to wonder if she’s still on the phone. “You there?”
“You have to call me every day. I want to know every move you make, understand? If you go to the grocery store, you tell me. If you hit up the pharmacy, you tell me that too, got it?”
I tuck some hair behind my ear, chuckling softly. “Got it.”
“Okay, then. Leave, go to Montana. Put the pieces of your life back together, and then you come back here. To your home. Because I can deal with that hair-gelled blond dolt Alex being gone, but not you. I love you, and remember, keep me updated on everything.”
I smile. “I promise I will. And I love you too.”