Page 66 of Maddox
A shiver rolls down my spine and I shake my head. I can’t confront Peter but I don’t have anywhere else to go and I step carefully up the stairs and down the hall, passing the bathroom before I enter my room.
The light of the moon casts a soft glow as I glance around, surprised to find that I don’t really recognize the girl who inhabited it before.
I’ve never been a frilly girl, but I still smile and shake my head at the pale blue bedspread and pillows adorning the bed.
Posters of bands I’ve always liked line the walls. In the corner, I eye my dresser before approaching the floor length mirror.
How many minutes of my life did I stand before this damn thing and analyze everything about me, wondering if I measured up?
Being popular, a cheerleader…those were the things that I defined myself around and looking back now after everything that’s happened in such a short amount of time, I feel foolish for wasting a single brain cell on something so fucking stupid.
After toeing off my shoes and socks, I drop to the bed and eye the teddy bear beside me.
Much like Petey’s which I slept with for months after he died, there was a time that I refused to go anywhere without my ownbear, but on my sixth birthday, I lost it forever. This was after we went to the grocery store one day.
While Mom perused the aisles, I skipped around on the shiny floors. One moment I was having a heated conversation with my bear and the next, I looked up to find Mom speaking to a tall gruff man.
I don’t recall his features or what they said to each other, but I do know that Mom’s agitation flooded my senses and after clutching her arm and begging to leave, she complied.
It was only hours later, after all had calmed down that I realized I lost my bear. However, I never mentioned it to my mom because some part of me feared seeing that weird light in her eyes again.
That seems so long ago now but I wonder as with everything these days if there wasn’t more significance to that encounter than she let on. Was that the man she dated before Peter and Joey?
Did Peter know about him?
I suspect much like everything else, he did not and the truth I’ve been trying to outrun barrels through me.
Petey’s death was not the catalyst for Mom’s change of behavior, and it stings to know that this is the cross she plans to die on.
Would I be here now if she had just told the truth?
At a minimum, Peter wouldn’t have said things that he can’t take back and as I consider that horrible day, I roll over and curl into a ball.
Practice let out early that afternoon and with promises to Micah that I would text him when I got home, I rushed to my car and headed in that direction.
The entire ride, I prayed that she would be anywhere but on that damn couch, smelling of vomit and sleeping off her high.
It was getting harder and harder to hide the evidence but knowing that Peter would lose his shit, and Mom was already at her lowest, I tried anyway.
As soon as I saw the police cruiser in the drive, my heart jumped into my throat, and I rushed inside to do damage control, but Mom wasn’t on the couch, and I came to a stop in the living room where I found Peter sitting on the floor, rocking her in his arms.
Her stringy hair covered her face except for one blue eye peeking through.
Surrounded by the evidence of her sleepless nights, my heart clenched when a single tear spilled over the red rimmed lid and trailed down her cheek.
Too late, I spied the used needle and tin foil on the coffee table before turning back to the spectacle.
Maybe it was for the best because I couldn’t do this alone anymore. Peter needed to understand what was truly going on.
“Is she…” I whispered and Peter met my gaze.
His eyes flickered as he assessed me in my cheer uniform before he said, “Go on up to your room.”
Nodding, I bypassed him for the stairs and pressed my back to the wall as he said, “Jesus, Helen.”
Had I ever heard him sound so defeated?
Rubbing my chest, I peeked around the corner when she mumbled, “It’s what I deserve.”
