29. Triple Threat
CELESTE
Seven Weeks Later…
Mama always usedto say that trouble comes in threes. The first month after my daddy passed taught me that trouble just set up shop when it found a comfortable place to land. After I watched the police escort Wesley onto the elevator in handcuffs, I returned to the hospital room to find a new level of chaos had been unlocked. Desiree’s crocodile tears were gone, and instead she was barking orders to everyone. Daddy’s body had been covered with a white sheet as staff arranged to transport the body back to the Smithson County morgue for the funeral home to pick up.
Nana started a huge argument when she realized that Desiree’s instructions didn’t include burying Daddy next to my mama, which had always been his wish.
“You, old woman,” Desiree hissed, “are done with this family. Consider this your notice to vacate my property.” She then proceeded to say that Daddy had a new Will and Testament drawn up after they got married that named Desiree as the sole heir to his property, his belongings, and…The Comfy Cushion.
If I lived a thousand years, I could never forget the light that died out in Nana’s eyes upon learning her daughter’s restaurant—her legacy—was left to a total stranger who had no passion or interest in the business.
After that, everything went up in smoke. Desiree claimed to have sole custody of me. “It was Doug’s last wish for Celeste to have a proper mother after his passing,” she sniffed. “And that means things are gonna change around here.”
While some part of me registered how horrific the scene had been, at the time I was still too numb to process any of it.
Desiree had us all fly back to River’s Run together. I was by myself in business while she stayed in first class with Jeremy and Hillary. Marla and Nana had left the hospital without telling me their plans, so I alternated the entire flight between mourning my daddy, worrying over Nana, and praying that Wes was okay. I didn’t let myself think on him too much or I would have come apart at the seams.
It wasn’t until several days passed that the panic really set in. Upon our arrival back home, Desiree confiscated my cell phone, stomping her sharp stiletto against the screen to break it. Wesley could have tried the house phone…but it never rang. I couldn’t get out of bed, and I don’t remember eating. At some point the dehydration set in, making the tears stop.
Hollow.
I was hollow. A shell of the girl who had once been the beloved daughter of Doug and Rachel Hendricks. That Celeste was foreign to me. Her memory disappeared when her boyfriend left her on the day her daddy died.
Marla came with several boxes and packed up all of Nana’s belongings. She came up to my tower to tell me that Nana was moving to a retirement community in Florida, near the beach. Nana would write to me as soon as she was settled, and she was really sorry she couldn’t be here for me with Daddy’s passing.
Or so Marla said. I didn’t see her face because I was too grief-stricken to do anything other than stare at the ceiling until the roaring in my ears subsided. First my daddy, then Wes, then Nana. People certainly deserted me in threes, though I doubted that was what Mama meant.
When I didn’t respond or react, Marla quietly climbed down the stairs and left. The tower was stifling, no longer the happy refuge of my childhood. All the happy photographs mocked me, my dead parents’ faces smiling down at me in a permanent reminder that I would never see either of their faces doing so in real life again. I couldn’t bear it for another second, and I shoved as much of my clothing that would fit into a backpack and went out to Nana’s cottage, locking the door with a deadbolt behind me.
And there I stayed. Desiree came out and pounded on the door after the eight day mark so that I could attend Daddy’s funeral with her. She had a scratchy black lace dress for me to wear with a high neck and skirt that brushed my ankles. I didn’t say a word in protest, though, nor did I say a word during the entire service. The same preacher man as Mama’s funeral presided over the affair. At the luncheon afterwards, I managed to sneak out the back door and sit on the ground, leaning against the building to count the passing clouds.
I couldn’t take another person offering me their condolences. Their pitying looks knowing I was the orphan with no family to care for me. Nana hadn’t come to the funeral, which could have been Desiree’s doing, but it hurt either way. Why did I have to tell her that I needed her when my daddy died? She knew with my mama.
Enough time passed for the sun to crest the skyline by the time Maggie found me. She didn’t say anything, just sat on the ground next to me. After a moment, she wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me in to rest my head against her neck. It was the soft contact, the gentle touch that I hadn’t felt since that fateful morning in Wesley’s arms, which made the tears finally come.
“Wes should be here,” I cried.
I could feel her nod against my hair. “I know, Cee. I’m sure he wants to be.”
When Desiree, her kids, and I all returned home that evening, I made a beeline for Nana’s cottage and collapsed onto her bed. It was one of the few places that didn’t hold a memory of Wes and therefore the only place where I could breathe.
Days went by. I never fully slept, but I didn’t leave the bedroom either unless it was to use the tiny, adjacent bathroom. Showering was pointless. School had no appeal whatsoever. Maggie came twice, but I refused to answer the door.
What happened to Wes that he didn’t come back for me? Abandoning me was the opposite of what I expected him to do. I kept replaying the awful things we said to each other over and over again like a broken camcorder until I wanted to vomit. He couldn’t really believe I likened him to his father, could he? I regretted it as soon as I said it, but then to have my traitorous words spit back at me when he was being arrested made me doubt his faith in me. Had I broken his heart beyond repair? Was this a breakup? We had never had a real fight before, so I didn’t know what the protocol was for reconciling.
As time crept on, though, it became abundantly clear that the only thing I had to reconcile was my life without Wesley Madden.
I imagined Daddy and Mama reunited in some kind of beautiful Afterlife and wanted nothing more than to join them. Were they looking down on their only child, yearning for me like I did for them? Was I worrying them? Or would they welcome me with open arms? I didn’t want to disappoint them in death, but I saw no hope towards making them proud in life. The future no longer existed; that kind of potential was terrifying.
As the days turned into weeks, I knew people were starting to get more concerned. Maggie stopped by every day after school. She alternated between yelling at me to snap out of it, reminding me that only my daddy died, I was still living. Other days she would curl up in a ball next to me, never saying a word, just letting her presence do all the talking.
Marla came by, too, giving me updates on the regulars at The Comfy Cushion. While I was surprised she stayed on now that the restaurant technically belonged to Desiree, I knew Marla didn’t want to leave her best friend’s life’s work in the hands of a jealous rival. I wished I had the heart to thank Marla for all the sacrifices she had always made for my family—for me—but I couldn’t do it. Misery was too potent as company.
Now, seven weeks after my daddy’s death and The Last Day, as my mind had come to call Wesley’s abrupt departure, Marla and Desiree both came into the bedroom, presenting a united front I had never seen before. While Marla’s face was kind and full of concern, Desiree’s was full of poison. Her makeup was still flawless and her dress still molded to her body in a way that should have been considered improper. How could I have changed so much and she so little?
“Celeste, honey,” Marla whispered carefully as she edged onto the bed beside me, “we need to do something. You’ve gotta get out of this bed.”
Unbidden, tears started sliding down my nose. I made no move to wipe them away. What did it matter anyway?
“We mean it, Celeste!” Desiree barked. She crossed her arms over her chest.
Marla frowned at her tone, but didn’t say anything to contradict her. “Honey, when’s the last time you showered?”
Two full minutes passed before Marla sighed and said, “Fine, then I guess we’ll do this the hard way.” She abruptly grabbed the hem of my t-shirt and yanked it upwards, pulling it over my head.
“HEY!” I shot out of bed, using the t-shirt to cover my chest. “It’s none of your business, Marla!”
She stood up, clashing her hands into fists that rested on her hips. It was normally the position that made me quiver because I knew it meant I was in for a real scolding. Now I couldn’t even muster up the energy to care.
“You will shower and you will eat a plate full of food or so help me, I will have you committed to the hospital!” Marla demanded.
I snorted. “You can’t do that!”
Desiree stepped up shoulder to shoulder with Marla. “But I can. You live under my roof and are in my care, and this unseemly behavior ends today.”
The entire exchange already deflated me. It was more effort than I had expended in months.
Sinking back onto the mattress, I couldn’t look at them as I admitted, “There’s no reason for me to shower. I just want to be left alone.”
“Well that’s just too damn bad,” Marla tutted. “Get in the shower and I’ll fix you something to eat.”
As if to prove her point, she went into the bathroom and turned the water on. The bathmat made a smacking sound as she threw it on the floor.
“Celeste…?” Marla’s voice suddenly went higher, cresting like it was on the verge of breaking. She came out of the bathroom holding the small garbage can from under the sink. “Have you been emptying the trash?”
I snorted again, bending down to root around in the backpack I had carelessly tossed under the bed and find clean clothes. “Of course not. Why?”
The strange octave remained. “Why aren’t there any pads or tampons in the trash?”
What?
My mind finally caught up with Marla’s, making me gasp and drop the socks I had been holding. Desiree’s eyebrows rose to meet her hairline, and she brushed past Marla to enter the bathroom, throwing open the two drawers and solitary cabinet under the sink as if she needed to see the evidence for herself.
“There aren’t any tampons in this bathroom!” she screeched. “What have you been using?”
I stared at them both in dumbstruck horror. The realization was too frightening and overwhelming to put into words. My mouth went dry as my heart pounded an unfamiliar rhythm to the panic coursing through my veins.
“Desiree,” Marla whispered, equally as astonished as me, “I’m gonna run out to the store and grab us a pregnancy test.”
Trouble came in three’s? Seemed like I had the worst triple threat of them all.