Chapter Thirty-Nine May 9
Chapter Thirty-nine
I take the train into the city to visit with Georgie and Paulie.
When Georgie invited me to her condo, I simply came downstairs with my bag packed and announced that I was going to her home for the weekend. I didn’t wait for their response. Or their permission. I didn’t even say goodbye. I just left.
The problem with sticking it to my parents this way is that I derive no satisfaction from being so miserable.
I just want to be able to move on. But neither of us will ever forget the way we made each other feel.
You can’t glue together a glass vase that has shattered into a million tiny pieces and not expect there to be gaps left behind.
Georgie and Paulie are waiting for me when I step outside Union Station.
It’s an unseasonably warm day for May, with a gentle breeze.
I bend down to Paulie’s stroller to kiss her cheek.
Georgie tells me I can stick my bag in the undercarriage.
When I’m done, I playfully nudge my sister aside so that I can push the stroller.
I breathe in the city air. It may not be as clean as the air in my home, but I take it in more easily.
“Are you okay to do the aquarium before we eat?” She stops herself just then and takes in the full sight of me. “For fuck’s sake, Lennon. You’ve completely withered away.”
My grip tightens around the foam handle of the stroller. We’re stopped on the corner, waiting for the light to change. “Things suck at home.”
I spent most of the winter hibernating in my room, writing, and sometimes hanging out with Andie. I haven’t attended any of the senior year functions or events. But in my own way I’ve been doing the work, building something that’s just for me.
Georgie pauses, her eyes welling up, shaking her head. “This is my fault. I should have helped more.”
“It’s not. You have your own life. And winter makes things harder, especially with a kid.”
“I can do better. I will do better,” she says as we cross the street. “It’s been almost a year since New York. Are they still making you feel guilty?”
“We don’t really talk. I tried to with Dad over New Year’s. I told him about Columbia. Said I applied. I think I just made things worse.”
“And Mom?”
“I don’t know how to approach Mom,” I say as pedestrians speedily weave around us. “I expected Dad to act like this, but Mom never once stuck up for me. Never attempted to hear me out or come speak to me alone. She just ‘stood by her man.’ So grossly stereotypical, it makes me sick.”
“Yeah. Mom was a giant disappointment to me, too, when I got pregnant. I think she’s afraid that he’ll turn on her. Or maybe she just feels sorry for Dad because he has no one else.”
“Probably both,” I say.
“Say what you will about Mom and Dad, and there’s a lot we can both say about them,” she laughs, “but they really do love each other. And I don’t know if it’s fair of us to expect that they would ever choose a side if it meant going against one another.”
“Is that how it is with you and Zach?” I ask. “Why you’ve chosen to spend more time with him and Paulie and less with us?”
“It wasn’t about choosing,” Georgie says.
“Life just happens. It gets busy, and priorities shift. Not that I’m saying you’re not a priority, but Paulie is so dependent on me.
And so is Zach, in a different way. It’s funny.
I went from my life being mine to now being the most important person to two other people who need me in ways that can sometimes feel suffocating.
But other times? I love my life. It’s confusing, I know,” she says with a laugh.
I get why Georgie married Zach, even though I never believed she truly loved him. She needed to leave that house. It was for her survival. I see that now. Because Columbia is my version of survival.
“So Columbia. Have you thought this through?” Georgie asks as we arrive at the aquarium.
“What’s to think through? It’s my dream. I applied. Now I wait.”
“And if you get in? There’s no way they’re going to let you go, and we’re too well off to get any financial aid,” Georgie reminds me.
I push the stroller up the ramp to the entrance, not responding to my sister’s concerns. Concerns I have tried to block out of my mind for months. Delusional? Maybe a little. Probably another survival tactic.
“Have Mom and Dad found out yet that you didn’t apply anywhere else? Are you prepared to brave the shitstorm again?” she asks as we walk through the front doors.
“Applying to other schools would have created a safety net,” I say. “And if there was a safety net, they’d make me use it.”
Georgie exhales a heavy breath. “Your stubbornness is going to ruin you, you know that, right?”
Or save me, I think, but don’t dare say out loud.
Because then maybe Georgie will think I’m just as crazy as my parents think I am.
And I never once said to her that having a baby would ruin her life, even though I thought it—and much worse.
Why does it feel as if no one is ever on my side?
Maybe I am delusional. Maybe I’m the problem.
I pull back the stroller canopy so that Paulie can take in the full view of the colorful lobby.
Crouching next to my niece, I point to the aquatic mobiles and giant fish tanks.
Georgie goes to the counter to buy our tickets, and I take in another deep breath.
When she returns and passes me my entry ticket, pity is etched across her features.
We don’t talk about anything having to do with me, Dad, or college the whole time we’re there.
We focus our attention on Paulie and all the sea creatures.
Taking pictures by the jellyfish, pointing up at the sharks as they swim above us, reading about the old sea turtles.
We make a pit stop at the gift shop before leaving, where I buy Paulie a pink jellyfish stuffie.
Once we’re back outside, Georgie stops to take a call and I walk around with Paulie, showing her the CN Tower.
“Look up, up, up!” I tell her. Her big, brown eyes go wide.
As my gaze falls again I freeze. John? I stand up straighter, arching my neck, my eyes fixed on the person standing just a few feet away.
He smiles when he catches me staring. I don’t reciprocate. It’s not him.
Georgie catches up with us and bends down to kiss Paulie. “Dinner?” she asks as she straightens.
“Sure.”
Paulie grows increasingly cranky over dinner, so we eat quickly and walk back to Georgie’s condo.
“Where’s Zach?” I ask as we step inside her home.
Georgie unbuckles the stroller straps for Paulie, who immediately runs to her play area.
I follow my sister to the kitchen, where she prepares Paulie’s nighttime bottle.
A surge of nostalgia courses through me.
I miss those early days when Georgie and Paulie were still living with us and I got to be there every night to help give Paulie her bedtime bath and, if I was lucky, her bottle.
“No bath tonight?” I ask.
“She doesn’t get one every night anymore.”
I swivel the stool I’m seated on at the kitchen counter to watch Paulie play.
“Zach’s spending the weekend with his parents at their cottage,” she finally answers. “They’re opening it up for the summer.”
When the bottle’s ready we head to the family room.
I sit on the couch, and she passes me the bottle, smiling.
I smile back and hold it out to Paulie, who runs clumsily to me, a telltale sign that she’s exhausted.
I cradle my newly three-year-old niece, breathing in her baby scent, which is slowly fading, as she drinks her bottle.
“I know she’s too old for a bottle,” Georgie admits as she sits on the coffee table. “But she still loves it. Fuck the rules.”
“Fuck the rules,” I echo, stroking my niece’s slightly sweaty hair as she drinks her warm milk.
“I’m worried about you,” my sister says, watching me with her daughter on the couch. “I just feel like maybe you’re not being realistic.”
“It’ll all work out,” I say gently, my eyes filling up as I study my niece’s soft features. If Paulie has taught me anything it’s to trust the process.
“You didn’t do anything wrong, Lennon. If you hadn’t got caught, you’d still be their perfect daughter.”
“But I did get caught. And so did you,” I say, running a finger along Paulie’s rosy cheeks. “And I think, in a way, it was necessary. Because it broke the good girl facade, you know?” My eyes meet Georgie’s.
“But you are good. So am I. It’s not our fault that our parents’ values are twisted up in some weird purity culture that they use religion to justify. It’s not about religion. It’s not even about our culture. It’s about controlling us.”
“I see that now,” I say, nodding. “And that’s why I’m doing what I’m doing.”
“Except you’re hurting yourself in the process.
Don’t deny yourself a postsecondary education just to make a point.
Don’t take your anger at our parents out on your body.
You have to take better care of yourself and plan for your future in a way that is…
more viable. I love Paulie. I love being a mom.
But I regret not being able to go to university. ”
“You can go once Paulie’s in school.”
She offers me a sad smile. “Maybe.”
“Mama, I’m tired,” Paulie says once her bottle is finished.
Georgie rises from the coffee table and picks up Paulie, but not before I sneak in a goodnight hug and kiss.
They disappear into Paulie’s room, and I sink into the couch, reaching for my phone.
There are a few messages from Andie. She’s at another party without me.
She sends me a couple of pictures of her and her newest boyfriend, Thom with an h.
As I click on her images, my heart stalls.
I bring my fingers to the screen to expand the photo, zooming in on the people in the background.
Theo and John. It’s like seeing a ghost. Two of them.
Me: John and Theo are there.
Andie: Yeah, how did you know?
Me: They’re in the background of your photo, genius.
Andie: Ah fuck me. Sorry, babe.
Me: How are they?
Andie: Good I think. They appear to be friends again. I only spoke to them briefly. Theo asked about you. He’s home for the summer from UBC.
Me: How did John seem?
Andie: Sullen. As usual. You should text him.
Me: Andie! That’s like telling an alcoholic to enjoy a beer with dinner. I can’t.
Andie: lol, I don’t know why you two are being so stubborn. He’s your person. Everyone knows it so why fight it?
Me: Because I’m focusing on myself this year.
Andie: That’s bullshit. You don’t do anything for yourself. You don’t even come out. That’s just a lie you’ve been telling yourself. You need to snap out of it. Life is passing you by. TEXT JOHN.
Me: Only you could speak to me that way and get away with it.
Andie: I know. And you can call me a bitch and I’ll still loe you.
Andie: Love*
Andie: TEXT HIM. It won’t hurt to talk to him.
Andie: Also, I hate how hot Theo is. He makes Thom look like a skinny British boy-bander.
Me: lol. Theo is annoyingly hot.
Me: FYI I am out of my house. I’m visiting Georgie and Paulie. And we spent the day in the city.
Andie: Good! Get used to going out because whether you like it or not you’re coming to prom with me!
Me: I’ll think about it.
Andie: luver you
Me: luver you too
Andie: TEXT HIM!
Georgie returns from Paulie’s room with the baby monitor.
The condo is so small I’m surprised she feels the need for one.
She picks up the empty bottle and I help tidy up the play area.
We snack on popcorn and watch an old movie together before Georgie turns in for the night.
She’s given me sheets and a blanket for the couch, pre-emptively apologizing for the sunlight I’ll be waking up to thanks to her floor-to-ceiling windows.
Amazing views. Not the most practical for sleeping late.
Nuzzled into the couch, I flick off the TV and stare up at the ceiling. Andie’s words echo in my head. TEXT HIM!
If only she knew how many times a day I almost do.
The other thing I haven’t been able to bring myself to do is sign in to the Columbia admissions portal to check if I’ve been accepted.
I know the answer lies within a few clicks but the longer I don’t know the answer, the longer I can keep the dream alive.
Instead, I study the photo Andie sent with John in the background.
My heart cracks seeing his unsmiling face.
Those lips that once belonged to me, if only for a moment.
I close my eyes, remembering the two of us on the cool Central Park grass, the sun beaming down on us.
The one butterfly I have left, the one who hasn’t let my depression push it away, flutters in my stomach, its wings sending a wave of bravery to rush through me. I choose to seize this moment—one I know will be fleeting—and sign in to the portal.
Congratulations…