Page 2 of North
My stomach bubbled over with something sour and thick. Pity mixed with resentment. I flared my nostrils against the chemical smell wafting from the concoction on the coffee table. “Mom, wake up.” I reached out and shook her shoulder. Her flesh was cold to the touch. A gasp stumbled out of my mouth as shock made itself at home in deep in my chest.
“Mom,” my voice raised an octave. I shook her again and her other arm flopped out. I knelt in front of her and stroked her greasy pixie-cut hair. I pried open her half-closed eyes and saw nothing. No life. No spark of consciousness.
I slapped the side of her face a few times, trying to jolt her awake but something dense and hot in the core of me knew better. I pressed my fingers to her neck just below her ear and waited to feel the faint thump of her pulse as I’d done countless times in the past.
It wasn’t like my mother hadn’t OD’ed before. I could usually feel her pulse even when it was faint. I couldn’t feel anything beating under her skin right then.
I yanked my hand away from her and curled my fingers against my palms to stop the trembling. I tripped over a stray sock on my way to the kitchen to get my phone. There was only one person in my mind that I could call. He knew how to deal with Mom’s overdoses as well as I did.
I called my father.
“D-Dad,” my voice quivered no matter how much I tried to steady it.
“North, what’s wrong?” I leaned over Mom again, willing her heart to beat. Tendrils of scarlet strands fell from my messy bun and in my face.
“It’s Mom. She OD’ed again.” The anger in my bones vibrated and my teeth clenched against the waves of emotion. I went to the kitchen and leaned against the fridge.
“Fuck. Is she breathing?”
“No,” I nearly whispered as I glanced at her frail and lifeless body. “No pulse. She’s limp.” A knot thickened in my throat. It was hot and coated in loathing.
“Call an ambulance, North. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” The call ended and I clutched the phone in my hand as I let my head thud against the fridge. I cast a narrowed gaze to Mom’s body on the couch and barked out a humorless laugh.
Tears pricked my eyes but I refused to let them fall. I walked to the counter and took out the pack of cupcakes. I opened them and set one on the counter. The chemical smell hanging in the air mixed with the sugary sweet buttercream frosting, made my stomach twist.
I peeled away the paper wrapper and sank my teeth into the cupcake.
“Happy fucking birthday to me.”
…
CHAPTER 2
“Are you sure she’s dead?” Elijah said quietly into the phone. I was already on the road and he was back at Fitzgerald’s Fine Art taking over the newest display since I had to leave suddenly.
“I heard the fear in North’s voice.” I left out that I could hear the loathing too. Thenot-again-Momthat swirled itself in and out of her words like a stroke of muddled brown paint. I knew what that sounded like and there was no way to describe its melancholy cadence. “She’s dealt with Izzy’s overdoses most of her life. She knows what a bad OD is. This time it sounded different.” I didn’t have time to tell Elijah what happened back at the gallery before I darted out of there and hopped in my truck.
North didn’t call me unless she had to. I tried everything in my power to change that but nothing worked. She called when the OD’s got too bad or when there was no more money to make rent. She called when things were outside her control.
Like tonight.
“Alright, Man, if you need me, call me. Keep me updated.”
“I will, thanks.”
My chest tightened at the thought of Izzy finally succumbing to the addiction that plagued her for decades. I couldn’t identify the feeling constricting my ribs and stunting my lungs. It prickled the back of my neck and painted a sheen of sweat across my forehead.
I tightened my grip on the steering wheel and drove through the snowy Telluride streets. My mind wanted to veer down the memory littered path of finding my twin sister, Kristina, sprawled out with a needle in her arm. I couldn’t fight off the images of her body cold and dead. Her hair was matted and sticky with only God knows what and the light that once occupied her green and gold eyes was snuffed out.
A gut-punch forced my eyes closed at a stop sign. Had Izzy really chosen one last high over North?
When had it gotten so bad? As if meth addiction is ever good. I guess some days are better than others though. Some people’s horrible is a walk in the park for a meth addict’s family.
For two hours, I wrestled with my mind and tried not to turn Izzy into Kristina. Maybe my ex-wife wasn’t dead. Maybe this was her rock bottom. Maybe she could crawl up from the depth of hell and be normal again. We’d been over for a little more than a year and I refused to let her back into my life but she could get her shit together for North. Our daughter deserved that at least.
North.
I pictured her eyes in my mind. Denim blue with slashes of gray. A pent up breath rushed from my mouth. I’d have to see North again. I hadn’t seen her since I left Izzy. I’d talked to her on the phone and she’d text me if she had to but after her sixteenth birthday, contact between us had been dry and absent.
