Forty #2
Her brown eyes softened. “Of course. Dr. Hawthorne confirmed he has alcohol-associated hepatitis, which means his liver is inflamed due to heavy drinking. That’s why he’s jaundiced.
Sometimes hepatitis is treated as out-patient, but he came in pretty confused and his abdomen was swollen from ascites.
Plus, he’s at a high risk of withdrawal complications which absolutely need to be monitored, so that’s why he’s here.
” She gave me a gentle smile. “Hopefully he’ll improve over the next few days.
The real risk is what happens when he goes home.
If he starts drinking again before his liver has the chance to recover, he could end up here again. ”
I thanked her and sat back down.
Tonya walked with me to my car around eight, puffing her vape the entire way. Even though she took after Dad in a lot of ways, she wasn’t all bad.
Attempting to connect with her, I asked, “So, how are things going with Brad?”
“You really are out of the loop, aren’t you?”
“Is he old news or something?”
“Yeah, I kicked him to the curb.”
My scoff mixed with an incredulous laugh. “What? Why? I liked Brad.”
“I liked him too until he started texting that coworker of his every day. He wouldn’t admit to cheating, but I knew he was.” She gave a long exhale. “Been single and ready to mingle ever since.”
“That must’ve been hard. You guys were together a long time.”
She laughed, vapor rising from her mouth into the chilly night air. “It would’ve been hard for you, but not me. No, I don’t let men have that kind of power. That’s a you and Mom thing.” She bumped my shoulder with hers, chuckling.
But I stopped walking, turning to face her. “What does that mean?”
“What part, babe?”
I shook my head, blinking in confusion. “The ‘that’s a you and mom thing’ part.”
Her jaw worked as she inhaled through her electronic cigarette again. “You and Mom are obsessed with your men.” She looked me dead in the eyes. “If anyone is going to be screwed over and hung up on a man, it’ll be you and her, not me. That’s what I meant.”
Angry blood scorched my veins at the idea of being lumped into any category with my mother. “Why are you saying that about me? I’m not like Mom.”
A smile curled into her cheeks.
“I’m not.”
“Whatever you say.” She continued walking, but I surged forward to grab her arm and make her stop again.
“Wait, Tonya. I want to know why you said that. I cannot stand the way Mom’s world revolves around Dad, and it bothers me that you said I’m like her in that.” My heart bucked against the idea, but also…
Hadn’t the thought nearly come to me several times before now?
But I’d pushed it away, unwilling to think about it because it made me literally sick with dread to consider the fact that I might be anything like her.
Sticky heat bloomed over my face.
Still smiling, Tonya spoke. Letting her eyes flick up to the night sky, she shook her head.
“I will never forget the night you came home, talking about the kid from class. You wouldn’t shut up about him.
You were so young too, couldn’t have been older than twelve maybe.
And then—” Her abrupt laugh cut off her words.
“Then one night I came into your room. You were probably in high school at the time and there was a piece of stationery laid out on your desk that had some words at the top—I don’t remember what they were.
Like, ‘Sarah’s Bucket List’ or something like that? ”
I stiffened, instantly mortified.
“Anyway, I howled with laughter reading the thing because it was so him obsessed. I thought it was hilarious. But you and Peter really did become a thing and then suddenly your entire life became waiting on him to marry you. There was constantly something wrong with that boy, but you still waited on him to buy you a house, buy you a ring.” Her eyes dropped to my stomach.
“And, from all appearances, it looks like you're still waiting for the only thing you told me you truly wanted.”
I was thankful she didn’t say what it was out loud, because my emotions were already teetering on the edge, threatening to fall and shatter.
She continued, “If I had to guess what’s going on right now, him going blind—which is comically dramatic, by the way—has become your entire life.
But, like a good little wifey, you’re taking care of him.
Not because you want to necessarily, but because you have no idea who you’d be without him, which makes sense considering he’s been your north star since middle school.
And that is something our mother would do. ”
Fingers of fear curled around my throat, cutting off my air supply. I wanted to defend myself—I wasn’t anything like her. How could Tonya even accuse me of that? I blurted, “We’re separated right now.”
Her brows raised. “Really? I’m stunned.”
“Yeah, we are.” I said it like it was some sort of accomplishment. As if a broken marriage defied my mother’s legacy somehow.
“How did that happen?”
I told her about the change in Peter, how he’d completely fallen apart in the last two years.
But, even as I pretended to be unaffected, my heart burned for him.
This felt like betrayal, airing our heartbreak as if I was thankful to be rid of him, when not even an hour ago I was yearning for his arms.
But the war beat in my chest drowned out every other concern.
I’m not like Mom.
I’m not. I’m not. I’m not.
Tonya hummed as she listened, her expressions giving away how impressed she was. Finally, she said, “So, are you getting a divorce?”
I shrugged. “Maybe. I made an appointment with an attorney.”
But I definitely had not made an appointment. Why was I lying to her? Panicking over Tonya’s opinion wasn’t normal for me. It didn’t even make sense. I never cared what Tonya thought…
Until she thought I was like Mom.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” she said. “If you don’t go running back to him within a week or two, I’ll take back everything I said about you being like Mom. She doesn’t have the balls to walk away.”
My smile was weak, fleeting before it fully formed.
“I’m proud of you, you know.” Her pink lips clamped down on her vape. “So, what’s your next big thing? How are you reinventing yourself?”
I took a hard swallow as my mind flitted back to the pathetic new list I made that had exactly two items on it.
Do something drastic with my hair.
Have a baby.
“Um…” I laughed. “I might get my hair done.”
She laughed too. “Hey, that’s a start.” Her eyes calculated the long, red waves cascading over my shoulders. “I vote a pixie cut. You’ve got the right face for it.”
“Peter loves my hair.”
Tonya snorted. “All the more reason to cut it.” Then she winked.
We continued into the parking garage, silent now. The weight of all we’d said pressed down on me. Was I truly like Mom? So caught up in a man I had no individuality? Surely her flaws lay deep in my genes.
Tonya hugged me at the door of the elevator, and I could scarcely croak out a goodbye as panic wound around my heart and sunk its talons into the tender flesh of my identity.
Stepping into the elevator alone, I pushed 3 and waited, the small enclosure making my thoughts feel bigger, louder than they already were.
Was I codependent too?
Did I love him too much?
My eyes flitted over the dull, reflective metal doors, noting scuffs the public had left on—
Then I froze, soaking in my reflection.
My clothes hung on my body. I knew I was losing weight because the waistbands of my scrubs were loose, but this was so much worse than I thought. Deep purple circles encased my eyes. And they looked so tired, so…empty.
There was so much Mom in me that I thought I was going to be sick—right there in the middle of the lifting elevator. I slapped a hand over my mouth to stifle a terrified sob.
My reflection disappeared as the elevator buzzed and the doors rolled open.
I yanked the box of keepsakes from the top shelf of my closet, my heart beating with desperation. It had been so long since I even thought about the original list I carefully wrote on stationery all those years ago. Long enough for me to doubt its existence.
But Tonya saw it. She read it.
Frantic to understand myself, I rifled through random papers like movie tickets, old letters, photos, and school programs until I found a single piece of zebra striped stationery. And sure enough, at the top, it read, “Sarah’s Live List.”
My stomach pitched and my hands shook as my eyes scanned the list.
A sinking sense of doom filled my gut. And truth I didn’t want to acknowledge poured into my spirit like bitter poison.
I was just like my mother.
Because Peter had always been my rising sun.