"Jet lag, I guess," I replied shortly.
"You're going to miss a good time. Things haven't even begun yet," he coaxed, still holding onto my hand. I pulled it away gently.
"There'll be other good times," I said. "Thanks." His disappointment was written across his face.
Yeah, you're welcome. Anytime," he said turning away.
I slipped out of the party quickly and went across the hall to our apartment. Once I closed the door behind me, I let out my long-held breath. My face was flushed. The breeze coming through the window was too warm to bring any relief so I went out onto the patio and sat there, looking over the tops of the buildings at the brilliantly shining
constellations.
I wondered if Cary thousands of miles away was looking at the same stars. I missed seeing the way they sparkled over the ocean, making wishes on shooting stars as I walked along the beach. Was the ocean calm tonight? Were the waves gently lapping at the shore? As much as I wanted to hear Cary's voice, I knew it was too late to call him. Everyone was probably asleep anyway, I thought.
I heard a car alarm go off on the street in front of the complex. It sounded like a wounded animal, an injured stray dog, its high-pitched scream lasting a good two minutes before it stopped. Then, it was relatively quiet again. My eyelids drooped. I got up and got ready for bed. The moment my head hit the pillow, I was asleep.
But a few hours later, I was woken by the sound of Mommy and Richard's laughter. They came bursting into the apartment, both sounding drunk and not caring how much noise they made. Mommy shouted.
"Where's my talented little sister?" She laughed and came to my doorway. "The hit of the party. How'dya like that, Richard?"
"I love it," he called to her and she laughed again. I pretended to be dead asleep, but I opened my eyes and saw her wavering in the doorway. "Everyone thinks that was very cool, Melody . . . being a hit and then walking out of the party. Very cool. Looks like I taught you more than I thought," she said, "but just don't forget who's the teacher."
"Come on to bed, Gina."
"I'm coming."
She stood in the doorway glaring in at me. I didn't move.
"Sleep tight, Sis," she said. Then she laughed, wiped her forehead and stumbled away. I heard something fall on the floor with a crash and I heard her curse.
"Get to bed before you destroy the place and ruin all the good work your sister done," Richard teased.
Mommy cursed again and then she went into their bedroom and slammed the door. The whole apartment shook.
I heard their muffled voices through the walls, Mommy raising hers and then Richard yelling something. After that, I heard Mommy's sobs and wails. Finally, it grew quiet.
She can't be happy here, I thought. She just can't. Tomorrow, tomorrow I'll start talking to her about going back. I'll remind her about my inheritance and how we'll have money and how she could do whatever she wants if she would only stop trying to be someone she isn't.
It was like I was in the land of ghosts, everyone trying to be another person and their true selves floating around them, waiting to return to their lost bodies. Ironically, that's what Mommy had to do . . . return to her body, to her name, to the identity she had buried in a grave back in Provincetown.
Would she ever want to be Haille Logan again?
1 hoped so; because Haille Logan was my mother.
9
Take One
.
I woke to the same sound of shouting and
muffled cries I had heard before falling asleep. By the time I rose, got dressed and went out to put on a pot of coffee, however, it was quiet again. Richard emerged first, looking furious. He poured himself some coffee and began mumbling aloud.
"It's like pulling teeth sometimes. Why do I have to put up with this?" he muttered. "She acts like she's doing me a favor. LET'S GET IT STRAIGHT WHO'S DOING WHO A FAVOR HERE," he shouted toward the bedroom.
"What's wrong?" I asked and he spun on me. "What's wrong? Everything's wrong. She drank too much, as usual, thanks to you, and then she went into one of her crying jags and kept me up all night. Finally she passed out and now she's miserable and hung over."
"Because of me?" I asked, confused, but he ignored my question.