Read Diving In (Open Door Love Story) Online
Authors: Stacey Wallace Benefiel
“You should go out,” Liam says.
“Because that went so well the last time?” I reply. I can hear pounding music muffled in the background. He’s at the club working the New Year’s Eve show. Dani is meeting him later. Her flight from San Francisco gets in at eleven and she’s guaranteed she’s going to be there to kiss him at midnight.
“Because you did what you thought was best and it backfired, but you shouldn’t punish yourself one more second.” Liam lowers his voice. “I know that’s what you’re doing. I’m not the only Garrett who is a master brooder.”
“You do recall me telling you that his mom said I ruined his life?”
Liam is quiet for a moment. “You didn’t ruin his life. He’s alive for fuck’s sake, and he could have not been.” He sighs. “I’m changing the subject. How is Mom?”
“She’s gone into work the past four days. Grandpa says she’s still pretty with it, but he’s been picking her up and dropping her off. They finally brought her car home. Dad said I could use it if I wanted. I don’t know. It seems mean.”
“Yeah. Shittiest way to get a car ever.” He sighs again. “I wish she would’ve talked to me, Brynn. She’s going to die without having talked to me.”
Liam starts to cry, which makes me tear up. “This is why I’m not going out. Everything is fucking awful. God, I can hardly stand it.” I get up from my bed and go into the kitchen. I sit on the floor with a fresh pack of Mallomars and begin.
“Are you stress-eating cookies?” he asks. “I told Dani not to let me get drunk tonight, unless I was already wasted by the time she got here and in that case I probably needed to go ahead and go full-on blackout.”
“We’re champions of handling our problems in a healthy manner.”
Liam snorts. “You know what, though? This is how everyone is. No one always, you know, fucking meditates and drinks green juice and calls their therapist’s emergency line. People self medicate and try to forget. It makes us human.”
“So, making good choices is bullshit too?” I ask. “I’m starting a list.”
“Get up off the floor and put on a dress you’ll freeze your ass off in and go the fuck out, Brynn. That’s an order. Flirt with a cute stoner guy and get him to share a joint with you if you don’t want to drink. I mean, shit, let’s try to enjoy tonight and forget for a few hours that everything is going to go back to being absolutely awful tomorrow.”
I love my brother. “Thank you for sucking at coping just as much as I do.”
“You’re welcome. I’m going to have a tequila shot and go dance with the masses before the show. Happy New Year!”
“Woot woot!”
Liam ends the call and I get up off the kitchen floor and go stand in front of my closet. I own nothing acceptable to go out in. I have a jean skirt that Mom bought me that I only wear when I have to do laundry and that comprises my entire female-centric wardrobe. Ha!
Go put on a dress you’ll freeze your ass off in.
Who did my brother think he was talking to?
Although…
I grab my keys and hurry downstairs before the consequences of my bad idea can fully sink in. I open the door to the cleaners and quickly turn on the lights. I hate being here at night. It looks like a bunch of headless bodies hanging from the racks.
I push the button that moves the carousel and I keep an eye out for things that are glittery, bedazzled, or have sequins, and also pink or red or purple or royal blue or some such color that’s a color. I wear black and white every day and soon enough will have to pick out a black dress, so tonight I’m going to wear something gaudy and wholly unlike me.
I’m starting to get dizzy and have to slow the carousel down when I spot something that is both a deep red and has sequins on it. I stop the rack and take it down. It’s a dress, and it looks like something someone my age would like, but it’s a size smaller than I normally wear. Clothing sizes vary from brand to brand, I tell myself and begin to strip right there.
I leave my bra on, even though the dress is strapless, because I don’t own a strapless bra and will have to wear a cardigan anyway even if by some miraculous miracle it fits. Unzipping the dress proves to be kind of difficult. The stupid sequins keep getting in the way of the teeth and catching, but I finally get it all the way down. I step into it and position the preformed boobage over my boobs and then practically do yoga to get it zipped up, but I get it zipped up. It’s snug, but not painfully so.
I gather up my clothes and head back upstairs, grabbing a cardigan from my closet and putting on my converse – no high heels, I’m counting on my shiny chest to distract from my feet. My hair gets piled in a messy twist on top of my head and I apply some ancient mascara that is sure to give me an eye infection and some tinted Chapstick.
I am not the hotness, but it’ll have to do. I call a cab and finish off the Mallomars while I wait.
~
“Where to?” The cabbie asks.
“Uh,” I stammer. Good question! “The Grove Hotel, please.”
“Okie doke. I hear the party there is a blast.” He hands a card to me over his shoulder. “Give me a call when you need picked up.”
“Thanks.” I tuck the card into my wallet, which I’m pretending is a clutch because none of my purses or backpacks looked right with such a fancy dress.
He drops me off at the front of the hotel, which feels strange since Gabe and I always entered through the parking garage. I pay and then rush inside. This is definitely a dress to freeze my ass off in.
The lobby is packed with people dressed like me. I even see another woman wearing sneakers and I begin to feel more comfortable. I’m on an adventure!
I follow the loud, thumping music and the crowd to a ballroom. There’s a bouncer checking IDs and tickets and another handing out bracelets. A minor setback.
I scan the crowd for single men, hoping to find someone already wearing a bracelet who will let me tag along and help me slip past the door guys.
“I wouldn’t have believed it was you, except those are definitely Brynn Garrett shoes.” Andy slips his arm around my shoulder. He’s got a bracelet on. “Come with me.”
I keep my arm that should have a bracelet covered with my wallet and we easily walk right into the ballroom. Once we’re a safe distance inside, I shrug out from underneath Andy’s arm. “Thanks. That was cool of you,” I shout, so he can hear me above the music.
“No problemo,” he shouts back and then gives me a thumbs up. A perfectly straight thumbs up. “Is Gabe a no show? Not all that into dancing?” He flashes me a grin.
I shake my head no and don’t offer up any explanation. But I forget that Andy knows me pretty well and can read my expressions.
“You guys split already? Me and Sylvia too.” Andy doesn’t shout this because now his mouth is right next to my ear and I can hear him clearly.
“Wanna dance?” I ask.
“Totally!” Andy shouts, putting his arm around my shoulder again and guiding me over to the dance floor.
I try to lose myself in the music, but Andy keeps grinding on me, goofily, and making me laugh. I’m pretty excited to be laughing and wonder if I’ve been making myself be more emo than I need to. Maybe Andy is just what the doctor ordered.
“Can you get us drinks?” I shout.
Another thumbs up and he jogs over to the bar. I keep dancing by myself, being this new person with my old guy looking on.
I push the constant thoughts of Gabe out of my mind. I had planned to go up to the roof at midnight and, I don’t know, have whatever kind of moment I could have with my memory of him there, but now … maybe I should let him go. Maybe I should take a page from Gabe and realize that hope is bullshit. The reality is he doesn’t want me. He thinks I betrayed him and I guess I did.
Andy hands me a pint of dark beer.
~
He’s got a room at the hotel and we make our way there. It’s just past midnight and I absently wonder if Dani made it to Liam in time. My heart wants to go to the roof, but my body is following Andy down a hallway on the fourteenth floor.
The checkered print of the carpet is making me dizzy, or maybe it’s the beers I had, how many I’m not sure. I concentrate on the black expanse of Andy’s back in his tux jacket and force my feet to keep moving, my hand to keep hold of his.
This is a bad idea. I don’t even want to be here, and I hate to admit this isn’t the first time I’ve felt this way with Andy and just went along with it anyway.
He stops at a door, slides his key into the lock, and we wait for it to turn green. It stays red.
“Turn it around,” I hear myself say, instantly cursing my mouth for speaking. We could’ve stayed out here for hours not opening the door.
“Duh.” Andy turns the key around and it goes green. He pulls me into the room and then sort of twirls me so that I end up wrapped in his arms. “You didn’t kiss me at midnight,” he says.
“Sorry. I had to pee,” I lie. I’d hid in the ladies until Auld Lang Syne was over.
“You can kiss me now if you want,” he says, all coy.
I close my eyes and tilt my face toward his, but don’t go in for the kiss.
“Jesus, Brynn.” Andy laughs and twirls me out of his arms. “You look like you’d rather French a porcupine.”
I find myself at the foot of a king-size bed. I fall back onto it. “That bad, huh?”
“Worse, even.”
“Looks like I can’t even rebound right.” I kick off my sneakers and scooch up the bed until my head hits pillow.
“Probably because you’re, like, super in love with Gabe and whatever happened between you two is super dumb.” Andy lies down next to me, but not close enough that we’re touching.
“Unfortunately, I super betrayed his trust and he super hates my guts.”
“Ouch. Not super.”
“Andy?” I ask.
“Yes, Brynnie?”
“Can I sleep here? There is too much beer in my stomach.”
“Of course you can. I’ll even wait until you’re completely asleep before I touch your boobs.”
“Deal.”
I wake up to Andy’s hand shaking my shoulder. “Your phone keeps ringing,” he says and sets it on my face. I pick it up and look at the time, 3:20, and then at who the eff is calling.
Grandpa.
Shit.
“Hello?” I answer, the adrenaline shooting through me making me sober as all get out.
“Oh, good, I’m glad I finally got you,” he says, relief in his voice. “Your mom’s been taken to St. Vincent’s by ambulance and I’m headed over there now. Can you get a cab and meet me?”
“What’s wrong? What happened?” I am up and off the bed, jamming my feet into my sneakers. Andy’s fully awake now too, putting on his shoes and his tux jacket.
“She’s in a lot of pain sweetheart, and the morphine just isn’t cutting it. Your dad was real worried, said she could hardly stand to be moved. That’s why he called the paramedics. Look, I’m at the parking garage. Get here soon, okay?”
“I’ll be right there.” I look at Andy. “Andy will drive me.” He nods emphatically.
“Andy?” Grandpa says, sounding confused. “See you.”
I fill Andy in on everything that’s been going on with Mom on the ride to the hospital. In true Andy form, he listens and says the appropriate thing. It makes me miss Gabe and Liam. I need someone to make a joke or I might break.
He drops me off at the main entrance and goes to park his mom’s Jeep in the garage. I speak to the man at the admitting desk, and Mom has already been moved from the ER to a private room. I text the room number to Andy, not knowing if they’ll allow him in or not, and take the elevator up to the third floor. Mom’s room is right by the nurses’ station. The floor is quiet and dim, the only sounds coming from monitors beeping in every room.
Dad comes out of her room and spots me. He looks surprised and glad to see me. “Your mom’s not doing so well, sweetie.”
I slide my arms around his neck and pull him into a hug. “I know, Dad.”
“You should go in and see her. I’m going to go downstairs and try to call your brother. No cell phones allowed on up here.”
Dad is being surprisingly with it and it strikes me as odd until I realize that he’s in charge of the situation. Mom can’t stand over his shoulder and tell him what to do.
I go into her room. Grandpa is sitting next to her bedside holding her hand and stroking it very lightly. Mom’s eyes are open, but glazed over. At least she’s awake. I nod at her and then take the chair that Dad must’ve been sitting in opposite from Grandpa.
“They’ve given her a powerful cocktail,” Grandpa says, the corners of his mouth attempting a sad smile. “Bet she’d rather had a glass of champagne.”
Looks as though we’re talking about her like she’s not here. “I thought the doctor said she had two months at least? It’s not been two months.”
Grandpa shakes his head. “I know.”
It’s a couple of hours before her oncologist comes in to talk with us. It’s not good news. Dad’s called Liam, and he’s on his way.
“At this point, hospice is really all there is left to do. You take her home, make her comfortable, say your goodbyes.” The doctor hands Dad a card. “I’ll arrange for someone from this home nursing service to come by and get you all set up with what you’ll need this afternoon.”
“So, that’s it?” I ask, after the doctor leaves.
“That’s it,” Dad says. He looks at the ground. “I’m going to get some coffee, you want some?”
“Sure,” I say.
“I’ll come with you,” Grandpa offers.
I move to the foot of Mom’s bed. The chair is uncomfortable and I’m seriously starting to regret this stupid sparkly dress.
“You’re very shiny,” Mom says, licking her lips.
“I went to a New Year’s party,” I explain.
“With Gabe?” She says his name like it’s a bad taste in her mouth.
“No.” I don’t feel like getting into it.
“Where did you get that dress?”
“I borrowed it.”
“From your brother?” She makes “brother” sound even worse than Gabe’s name.
“Liam’s on his way,” I say, like it’s the answer to a question she’d asked me.
“I don’t know why he’d bother. I don’t want to see him.”
I shrug. “Well, he wants to see you.” It’s no use trying with her and I knew it was going to be no use … it’s just weird to be in the middle of her not caring instead of it being a future thing I’d have to endure. “How are you feeling? You’re awfully lucid for all the drugs they’ve got you on.”
“Did you like it better when I was quiet?” she asks, a genuine question.
“Not really. I hear your voice in my head no matter what.”
She almost smiles. “Good. That’s how I want it.”
“They’re sending you home – assigning a hospice nurse we’ll meet this afternoon.”
“Wonderful, just what I need, a stranger hanging out waiting for me to die.”
“I could hang out instead,” I say. “They won’t be doing much. You’re a lost cause at this point.”
“Thank you, Brynn. That would be better.” She closes her eyes.
“Sure.”
If I’d known that was the last thing she’d say to me, I would’ve lied and told her I loved her because a thank you from her was the closest thing to I love you she’d given me in a long time.
Mom’s released from the hospital and takes an ambulance ride back home. As it turns out, Dad ran into Andy when he went to call Liam and told him to go, so I ride to the house with Grandpa.
The paramedics get Mom set up in the den in a hospital bed the hospice has sent ahead. When the nurse shows up, I tell her she won’t be needed and she agrees to let us take care of Mom, but only after we fill out a shit ton of paperwork.
Grandpa goes home to catch a nap and a shower, promising to come back with take out at dinner time. Dad leaves to go get Liam at the airport.
I turn on what is basically a baby monitor by Mom’s bed and bring the receiver with me upstairs. I shower quickly and then change into some spare clothes I left behind in my dresser in my old room. Sweats and a t-shirt that’s tight on my boobs. I also check all of my old stash places in hopes of finding a joint, but no such luck.
The monitor hasn’t made a peep, but I go to the den and check on Mom anyhow. She’s asleep in the exact position she was before. All the numbers on the monitor match what the nurse had written down as good levels for whatever the numbers were supposed to be. I sit down on the couch and watch TV on mute over the top of Mom’s bed.
“Happy New Year,” I say out loud. Not sure if the worst year of my life has just ended or is just beginning.
~
I toss a pair of red sneakers into the last plastic bin and clamp the lid down. Done. Closet cleared, apartment vacated. I spot the neon green nose clip Gabe got me for Christmas hiding in a dust bunny nestled against the closet door. I’m about to bend down and retrieve it when my phone rings. It’s Dad calling from downstairs.
“Hey honey, I gotta get back to your mom. Bring down whatever else you have and I’ll run it to the house for you.”
I hurry to the parking lot. Dad already has his car running. I put the bin in the back seat. “We need more diapers. The Amazon order won’t come until Thursday. I’ll pick some up on my way home.”
“Thanks, sweetheart,” Dad says, glancing at the clock. He’s so afraid of not being there when Mom goes.
After work, I take the bus to Safeway and snag a cart on my way in. I stock up on Nutter Butters, Oreos, and Mallomars for me and Totino’s little pepperoni pizzas for Dad. Liam can get his organic, preservative-free whatever when he’s here this weekend. I also get a six-pack of orange Gatorade – I’d recently discovered its awesomeness – the Depends for Mom, and a box of Q-tips.
I pray I don’t run into anyone I know because the contents of my cart tell a story that I’m not sure I want to be associated with.
Which is why I’m not surprised when I hear Mr. Riley’s familiar laugh coming from the chip and cookie aisle. I fast walk it to the Express lane and dare the cashier to give me shit for my two extra items over the fifteen-item limit. Depends and Q-tips are not things people want to buy and therefore shouldn’t count.
I slide my rewards card, donate a buck to St. Jude’s, and choose debit, trying to keep a look out for Mr. Riley in my peripheral. The cashier finishes scanning my groceries and bagging them and hands me my receipt and a ton of coupons for adult diapers, Vagisil, and prune juice. That’s some fine targeted marketing right there.
I stuff the coupons and receipt in the nearest bag and then drop them in the cart. So far, so good on the Mr. Riley front. He’s probably still talking to whoever in the chip aisle. I round the corner past the Red Box, gunning for the automatic doors, and nearly gut check Mrs. Riley.
“Oh!” she says, glaring at me for a second before she registers who I am.
“I’m so sorry!” I blurt and then, like, frantically start patting her arms down as if my touch can heal or something.
“I’m fine. I’m fine.” She takes my hands in hers and systematically removes me from her person.
“How’s Gabe?” I blurt, knowing the instant it’s out of my mouth that I shouldn’t have asked.
She cocks her head to the side. “How do you think he is?”
My sarcastic side nudges me toward saying
awesome
, but I put her in check. I don’t say anything.
Mrs. Riley sighs and shakes her head at me. “He’s doing as well as can be expected.” Then, she walks away. No
take care
, no
see you
, no
I’ve got to find my husband
. She just dismisses me and walks away.
I stand there, stunned, the stupid automatic door opening and closing, opening and closing. As well as can be expected. What can be expected?
I’m fine, thanks. I’m about to be motherless, but you know, no big deal. I don’t understand how a woman who could pour so much attention and compassion into her own child can’t spare even a fake kind word for someone her child cared about.
Maybe because Gabe doesn’t care about me anymore. If he’s stopped, then why should she continue to give one thought to me?
The idea that I’ve stumbled onto what’s really going on with Gabe instead of this distant idea I’ve had that he was missing me squeezes my heart. I back my cart up around the corner to the Red Box.
Some women like to watch romantic comedies and eat ice cream to get over an ex, at least this is what TV has told me. I get the jist of that kind of therapy, but I like to put my own spin on it. I already have my cookies. Now I need a double feature of people blowing shit up. If aliens or robots are involved, all the better.
It is time to let Gabe go, to really be single for the first time in my adult life, and to accept things as they are, not as I want them to be.
I choose a movie with both aliens and robots blowing shit up and then another with Thor as a race car driver. My phone pings and I get a text from Dad.
Sorry to rush you, honey. Need the diapers for Mom ASAP.
Be right there. Got pizza and movies too. Catching the bus now.
I grab my bags from the cart and ditch it by the Red Box. I’ve gotta haul ass across the parking lot if I’m going to get the 6:15. The bags are flinging everywhere as I run, and the corner of the Mallowmars package rips a hole in one of them. I nearly rescue it before all the stuff falls out, but I’m not quick enough.
Cookies down!
Fuck.
I squat next to a car and begin reallocating the cookies into other bags, the distinct sound of a city bus braking on the street. I look up and watch the bus pull over to the empty stop, wait, like, four seconds and then take off.
Turning my gaze further upward I meet the eyes of the person sitting in the backseat of the car I’d dumped my cookies next to.
Gabe looks down at me, his expression blank, and then turns his face away. The image of the stupid green nose clip he gave me covered in dirt pops into my head.
I gather up my bags, get to my feet and walk over to the bus stop to wait for the 6:30. Gabe’s family drives by in their car, none of them acknowledging me.
I’m surprised I don’t even feel like crying. I text Dad I’m going to be a little later than I thought. Then I sit down on the curb and start in on the Nutter Butters. Aliens and robots blowing shit up no longer required.