21. Ellie
Ellie
Dr. Price is halfway through packing up his bag when I finally utter the words I've been afraid to say since this all started.
"I feel okay."
He pauses with his stethoscope halfway into its case and looks up at me over the rim of his glasses. "Well, your blood pressure is down to one-eighteen over seventy-six and your heart rate is within normal range. That's certainly an improvement."
"So she's cleared?" Jinx is perched on the edge of my vanity, one leg swinging, wearing a t-shirt with the sleeves cut off and Cyrus's sweatpants rolled up at the ankles. "As in, back to normal human activities cleared?"
"As much as anyone is cleared from something like this.
" Price zips his bag, clearly eager to be done with this shitshow.
"She can resume her regular routine, provided she isn't in any environments that would compromise her recovery.
No bars or parties, and stress management is critical in the first ninety days. "
"Oh, she won't be unsupervised." Jinx grins brightly and I already know what's coming. "She's not even going to be able to piss without someone watching her."
I groan. "Jinx."
"What? It's true."
Price sighs, handing Jinx a small bottle of pills. "Call me if anything changes."
"You got it, Doc."
Jinx walks him downstairs and I hear the murmur of voices on the porch even after the front door shuts. A few minutes later, Price's car pulls away and the house falls quiet again.
Kade is running things at the club, and Cyrus is off doing Cyrus shit that presumably involves hunting my stepfather.
Tank, according to the note taped to my door in block letters I could read from across the room, went with Kade.
None of them trust him to be alone right now, and I can imagine why after our conversation.
Which leaves Jinx and me.
And the first clear head I've had in what might be years.
I was prepared for the shaking and the vomiting, even if I had to be dragged through all of it kicking and screaming. What I wasn't prepared for was that once it all passed, I'd just be here, painfully sober and irrevocably aware of the clusterfuck my life has become.
The clusterfuck my head was on those pills.
Now that it's clear, so is everything else. It's not like I didn't see the problems before, obviously, because that's why I was on those fucking pills in the first place. But now, there's no temporary escape from them and that scares the hell out of me.
Behind the haze I was living in for years is all the shit I've been afraid to look at too carefully.
Including my mother.
I swing my legs over the side of the bed and put my feet on the hardwood. It's cold against my heels, but I push myself up and force myself to face the mirror.
Kade wasn't kidding.
I do look like shit.
There are dark circles under my eyes that look like bruises, and they're bloodshot, but clearer than they've been in ages.
My hair is an absolute disaster despite Jinx's best attempts.
I know I showered a day ago, or maybe two, but I honestly have no idea how long I've been wearing this t-shirt.
It barely even smells like Tank anymore.
I hear Jinx coming back up the stairs, his footsteps light and bouncy.
"Well, Princess, the good doctor has officially sprung you from…" He appears in the doorway, takes one look at me, and pauses. "You okay?"
"I need to see my mom." The words come out of me before the thought forms.
He doesn't answer right away. He leans against the doorframe instead, arms crossed, clearly buying himself a minute to think.
"Todd's in D.C.," he says finally. "He flew out for some bullshit committee thing and won't be back until Sunday. Cy's been tracking his plane. And your mom is fine, we've been watching her."
"I know." I sigh, turning back to the mirror because looking at the way he's looking at me is an even more damning reflection.
I just got sober and he's afraid I'm going to relapse.
Especially if I'm around the woman who was technically my first dealer.
"I just need to see her face and make sure she's actually okay. "
His expression softens and he pushes off the doorframe.
"Okay."
I blink at him, surprised it was that easy. "Okay…?"
"Yeah. Okay. But I'm driving, and I'm watching you the whole time. Deal?"
I sigh. "Deal."
The café is one my mother picked when I asked her, only a few blocks away from the house. Jinx disappears into the crowd as soon as we get through the door, but I spot him setting up shop at a booth near the window on the other side of the cafe.
He slides down his designer sunglasses and gives me a devastating little smirk that clearly says, I'll be watching.
My mother is already seated by the window. She looks up when I walk in, but her eyes don't really react much to me. The smile that spreads slowly across her face is wide and hollow.
"Oh, sweetheart." She stands and wraps me up in a perfumed hug, holding me a moment too long before she pulls back and takes my face in her hands. "You're so pale. God, Ellie, I know you said you had the flu, but you look like you've been through a war."
If she had any fucking idea…
"It was a bad one." My voice is steadier than I expected before it came out. "Thought it was just a bug, but it turned into a whole thing. You know how it is."
"My poor sweetheart," she says sympathetically, already sitting back down to reach for her water. "There's that awful strain going around. Bev's grandson had it for three whole weeks, poor little thing."
She buys it. Just like she bought it when I told her I was sleeping over at a girlfriend's house when I was really holed up in the RV with my boys on countless occasions.
She never pushes.
That's always been her gift and her curse, the way she takes every lie at face value because pushing would mean finding out, and finding out would mean having to do something about it.
I study her while she orders a cappuccino. Maybe it's the sobriety, or maybe it's the distance, but I can see what I've never been able to see before because I was always just as dulled as she was.
Her hands tremble with every movement, and her pupils are too small for the low light conditions in the cafe. Her skin has a sallow look under the makeup, which is heavier than usual, like she's aware and trying to hide it.
My mother has always looked young for her age, but she also looks fucking exhausted. Youthful beauty can't hide the fact that you're falling apart on the inside. She's lost so much weight her oversized wedding ring is loose on her finger when she gestures with her hands.
She's dying, I realize.
I just didn't see it before because I was doing the same damn thing, just a number of years behind her.
"Mom."
"Mmm?"
"Are you okay?" I ask, as insufficient as that question is for all the things I really want to ask her.
"Of course I'm okay." She gives me an automatic trained smile. "Why would you ask that?"
"Because you're my mother and I haven't seen you in a while, and…" I take a breath. "Because I'm worried about you. I'm always worried about you."
"Oh, honey." She reaches across the table and takes my hand. Her skin is so cool and clammy. "You worry too much. That's always been your problem. You're too young and beautiful to worry all the time, but you get it from your grandmother, she was such a nervous woman."
I turn her wrist gently in mine. There are no new bruises at least, but then again, Todd is out of town.
They really have been watching her. While I was shivering on the bathroom floor, they were keeping her safe.
"Mom. I need you to tell me something."
"Hm?"
"What does Todd have on you?"
Her hand stills in mine. It's a question I must have asked her dozens of times over the years, and for a second, I think I might actually get an answer. Her eyes focus briefly and I see her there.
My mom.
The mom who used to sing to me in the kitchen of our old apartment. The one who painted my bedroom pink in the trailer because I'd asked for it, even though we couldn't afford the paint.
Then the shutter comes down and she's gone again.
"I don't know what you mean, sweetheart."
This is where I'd usually drop it, but I can't be that person. I've been sober for such a short time, and already I've forgotten how to be numb. "Yes, you do."
"Eleanor." Her voice firms, and she pulls her hand back, shaking off whatever clarity briefly came over her. "I don't know what's gotten into you today."
"Mom." I lean forward. My fingers itch for the counting pattern but I keep them flat on the table. "Please. I'm not a kid anymore, I can handle it. Whatever it is he's holding over you, we can—"
"There's nothing to handle, Ellie."
I sigh. "We can figure it out. There are people who could help us."
"Ellie, stop."
Her hand is shaking harder now. The cappuccino arrives and she thanks the waiter with a smile that disappears the moment he's gone. "Not here," she says to me, quieter.
"Then where? When? Because every time I try to talk to you about anything real, you disappear on me," I say, trying to keep the frustration out of my voice.
"You always just check out. And I let you, because I did the same fucking thing, but I'm done, Mom.
I need you to come back. I need you to tell me what he has, because whatever it is, I swear to God it's not worth living like this. "
Her eyes fill with unshed tears, and for a second I think I've broken through to her.
Then her phone vibrates on the table between us.
She looks down. Her whole body stiffens in the way it only stiffens for one person, and the tears retreat like they were never there.
"I have to take this."
"Mom…"
"One second, sweetheart." She's already standing, pressing the phone to her ear as she walks over to the window. "Hi, darling. Yes, of course, I'm just having coffee with Ellie. Yes, she's much better."
Like he actually gives a shit. Probably just wants to parade me around to his potential donors' sons at a new campaign event.
When she comes back to the table, she doesn't sit down.
"I have to run, baby. He needs me to sign something at his office before five." She leans down and kisses the top of my head. "Oh… he wanted me to tell you. The campaign mixer next Thursday. He'd love for you to be there, if you're feeling up to it."
I know what that means, and I know Todd didn't actually say those words. He couldn't care less if I was puking the whole night, he just cares if it makes him look bad.
"Mom, please wait."
"We'll talk soon, honey. I promise." She gives my shoulder a squeeze. "Make sure you're staying hydrated, you don't want to get sick again."
And then she's gone.
I sit there for a long time, counting the sugar packets in the little ceramic holder. I take one out, stare at it, put it back. My eyes sting, but I don't let them do more than that because I've done enough crying this week to last me through the rest of my life.
The chair across from me scrapes. Jinx drops into it and slides a fresh cappuccino in front of me before he props his chin on his hand.
"That looked rough."
I stare at the foam.
"You have no idea."