I'm Still Here Page 8

  "What distracted you?"

  "I saw a shiny object."

  "Really?"

  "No, I was actually wondering if men gossip the same way women do. Two of my sisters wanted the dirt after my date with Rob, and I was wondering if Rob was spreading any dirt about me that I should be aware of."

  "What kind of dirt would there be for him to spread?" O.K. was clearly fishing.

  I laughed, "Oh, no. I don't kiss and tell."

  "So you admit that you kissed?"

  "Stop fishing!"

  "I'll stop fishing if you agree to go out with me. Just once, to talk."

  "Okay."

  "What?"

  "What, what?"

  "You said 'O.K.'"

  "No, I was saying 'o-k-a-y,' not your name. I think I'm going to start calling you Kingston instead, just to avoid confusion."

  "So you are agreeing to the date then?"

  "Why don't you come over here and let me cook? I like to cook, and it gets boring to cook for myself." Wow, I sounded like a loser.

  "Oh, my God! You cook too? Please tell me that you have some major flaw, other than going out with Rob?"

  "I'm going to ignore that comment, although I do want a full explanation of what’s going on. And, of course, other than the hair, I do have major flaws."

  "The hair is not a flaw. The hair is, well, I don't even know how to describe it, but it is something. Doesn't count as a flaw. You need something else."

  "Okay, how 'bout I may or not be going crazy?"

  "I highly doubt it. And if you are, I have a good shrink, remember?"

  "How could I forget? But I can't afford two hundred bucks an hour. Hell, I can't afford two hundred bucks period. I have to settle for the crappy free kind. I think I'm screwed."

  "Well, tell me what's wrong, and I'll tell my shrink and then tell you what he says. I'll pass along his advice to you."

  "Isn't he going to question it if you keep developing hysterical pregnancies?"

  "Oh, is that what it is? We covered that last year. I can already help you with that one."

  I laughed. I had to hand it to O.K. No matter how bad I might be feeling, he always said something to put me at ease and make me laugh. No doubt about it, Rob was hot, and he seemed like a decent guy. Of course, he really didn't want to talk or listen to me explain what had happened. I'm fairly confident he'd only wanted to get into my pants. And since I didn't let him, it wasn't too surprising that I hadn't heard from him in the two weeks since. It hurt a bit but wasn't surprising.

  "You know, with our track record, this dinner is destined to go epically wrong."

  "Maybe, but it's worth a shot. At least we'll get a good laugh out of it, right?"

  Even I couldn't disagree with that logic.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  "I can't believe it! Nothing catastrophic happened." We were relaxing on my couch after a tremendously successful and, might I add, delicious dinner.

  "Ssshh ... don't say that out loud. The night is not over yet." O.K. leaned forward and put his finger on my lips to silence me. He held it there for just a moment too long, and the moment was now tense. But a good tense. Sexy tense.

  Somehow, his touching my lips had made me want desperately to kiss him. Somehow, I had gone from gloating to thinking about kissing O.K. I sat back to break that moment. I couldn't think about kissing O.K. That would complicate things unnecessarily. I didn't need that. I wanted it. No, wanted the kissing not the complication. Shit. Why could I not stop feeling his warm touch on my lips?

  "I know. I really need to learn to stop tempting fate."

  "Yes, and not to tempt fate, but that dinner was awesome. You can cook for me any time." He smiled, showing those beautiful teeth again. And he had one dimple, and crinkles around his chocolate brown eyes. His hair was a bit disheveled, and he was in need of a haircut.

  "You need a haircut," I blurted out. Damn that E-Z Pass brain.

  He ran his hand through his hair, which tousled it even more. Hmm, perhaps I should not have been drinking that wine with dinner. But I'd opened the bottle to make the piccata, and it seemed like such a shame to let it go to waste.

  "I know, I'm overdue. I usually go every four weeks, but I had to cancel my appointment with Michele last week. She can't fit me back in until next week. So I have to look like this until then."

  By now, his hair was pretty much standing on end, and I couldn't stand it anymore. I leaned forward on my left hand and tried to smooth his hair down with the other. He reached, putting his hand over mine. I was so wrapped up in his tender touch that I did not realize my left hand was sliding off the front edge of the couch until I pretty much face planted in his lap.

  Yup, my face to his crotch. 'Cause that's how I roll.

  O.K. started laughing, and picked me up. "You know, I usually wait until the second date to ask for that."

  I was sure my face was as red as my hair. I looked at O.K., who was laughing, and I lost it. I burst out laughing. We were both laughing so hard that it was getting hard to breathe. I had a tear or two rolling down my face and my cheeks hurt from laughing.

  Finally, catching my breath I said, "I honestly cannot remember the last time I laughed that hard."

  "Me neither!"

  "Good God, I am a disaster of epic proportions."

  "Not epic, just sort-of continental."

  "Continental?"

  "Yeah, bigger than a country, but not quite global."

  "Yet."

  "You've crashed your car, accused me of hitting on you, fell asleep in my waiting room, face planted twice, with one ending up in my lap. I'm not sure how much worse it could honestly get."

  "Did you hear about my date with Rob? I may have had a slight break with reality."

  "He didn't say anything about it. And I don't want to know. Really. I mean, other than the band thing, which, by the way, is totally cool."

  "That part of the night was really cool. I never pictured myself up singing with a band. That was my sister's thing. I was always on the sidelines, watching. Which I was fine with, until I realized how kick ass it feels to be up there with a mike in your hand."

  "Okay, that's all I want to hear about your date." He shifted uncomfortably.

  "Does it bother you that I went out with him?"

  He fiddled with the button on the back couch cushion for a moment. He appeared to be choosing his words carefully. "It's just that since Rob and Melissa broke up, well, Rob's been ..."

  "Active? Friendly? Slutty?"

  He smiled. "You could phrase it that way."

  "I kind of had that suspicion. I mean, he was really nice and all, but not the kind of guy you take home to meet Mom and Dad. Not that I will ever bring anyone to meet them since we don't talk, but you know what I mean."

  "You ever gonna tell me the family story? You've alluded to it a few times, and I've got to admit that my curiosity is piqued." I knew he was changing the subject and warily I let him. I had to know if he heard Aster too.

  "Um, it's kind of heavy, and I don't know that I want to get into it right now. But that reminds me, I have wanted to ask you something." Make it sound light. Make is sound breezy. Don't make it sound coo-coo.

  "Okay, shoot."

  "The day of the accident? Right after you helped me out of the car, and were coaching me through trying to lift my head—do you remember?"

  "Yeah, I was holding onto you and then you almost passed out. I was kicking myself for getting you out of the car without waiting for the paramedics to arrive."

  "So, in between the holding me and the passing out, as I was lifting my head, I heard a scream. Did you hear that?"

  He was pensive for a moment. "Yes, come to think of it, I did. A woman, right? That was when you jerked your head up, and then went down."

  I swallowed hard. "Do you remember or could you make out what the woman screamed?"

  He shook his head. "I don't know. I wasn't really paying attention. I was more worried about you."

  "B
ut you definitely heard a scream."

  "Yes."

  "And it was a woman."

  "Yes. But why does all this matter?"

  "Okay, this is where I go completely overboard and break with reality." I told him how I would swear it was Aster, who had been dead for seven years.

  "So, she disappeared or committed suicide?"

  "Well, she left a note, and then was never seen again. She didn't take her phone, purse or even wallet. Her bank account, meager as it was, was untouched. None of her stuff was gone."

  "And you thought she killed herself."

  "Even though Aster and I were fraternal twins, we were closer than regular sisters. We really were two halves of a whole. Literally, yin and yang. I used to feel her, and I have never felt her since she disappeared. It was like I was suddenly in the atmosphere without gravity pulling me back down. I know, with every aspect of my being, that Aster committed suicide. But I really, really hate talking about it."

  O.K. was quiet for a minute. I sank back into the couch, weary from the emotional rollercoaster I had been riding the last few weeks. Unable to stay still, I got up and went into the small galley kitchen to wash the pans from dinner. We had cleaned up the rest previously, but I had left my pans to soak. I started scrubbing them, taking out my anger and frustration on them.

  "Wow, remind me not to piss you off anymore."

  I startled, surprised that O.K. had followed me into the kitchen. He was leaning against the counter, watching me. I gave him a tight smile. "I'm not angry with you. I'm angry with Aster, and there is nothing I can do about it."

  "Why are you angry with Aster?"

  "I'm angry that she pulled me into her tangled web. I'm angry that she was sick and did nothing to get better. I'm angry that she gave up and ended her life instead of fighting for it. And I'm mostly angry that she left me all alone."

  And with that, a tear escaped down my cheek. Tears twice in the last hour. One from joy and one from sadness. Perhaps I had more bipolar tendencies than I wanted to admit.

  My hands were still submerged in the sink full of bubbles, so I pulled them out to dry them. Slowly, I turned to face O.K., my hands still gripping the sink behind me.

  "And now, to make matters worse, I think I'm going down the same road of mental illness that Aster was on and it scares the living shit out of me. What if I end up just like her?"

  O.K. took two steps towards me and closed the gap between our bodies. He gently took my face in his hands and said, "Have you ever considered that there might be another reason for seeing and hearing your sister?"

  "What else can it be other than I'm headed for a room in the Pecan Manor?"

  "Pecan Manor?"

  "Yeah, you know, the nut house."

  "I wouldn't go reserving you a room there yet."

  "Oh yeah, why not?" I stuck my chin out slightly in defiance."

  O.K. leaned in and gave me a very light, very soft kiss on the lips. It completely disarmed me, which I think was his plan.

  "Have you ever considered that Aster might still be alive?"

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  "No."

  "No? That's it? No, you haven't considered it, or no, she is not alive."

  "NO," I said more emphatically. "No, there is no way Aster can be alive." I pushed off the sink and put my hands on his chest. With a slight force, I pushed him out of the way and stormed around him. "And I think you'd better go."

  "No."

  I whirled around to look at him. "What do you mean no? You can't refuse to leave my apartment." I stomped out to the living room and started picking things up and slamming down.

  "Esther, calm down."

  "No, I will not calm down. How could you say such a thing? There is no way in hell that Aster is still alive!"

  "Why do you say that?"

  "Because, I, well, if she was ... shit." I was standing in the middle of the floor. I wanted to sink to the floor and weep, but I would not let him see me like that.

  O.K. stood about four feet away from me, just watching. I seemed paralyzed for a moment. Finally, I gestured for him to sit down. He sat on the couch. I sat across the room in the mission-style leather armchair. Thoughts raced through my head, and I tried to organize them before I opened my mouth. After a few moments, I laid my head back, closed my eyes and talked.

  "I've been through this with my parents over and over. This is a battle I'm a veteran of, and I refuse to revisit it. They refuse to believe that Aster would end her life. They spent all of their time and energy, not to mention money, searching for her. I'm angry with them for not giving up on Aster, and they're equally as angry with me for giving up on her. Yes, I gave up on her. But she had given up on herself. I knew it. I could tell by her behavior that had escalated and escalated. The crushing depression that followed was even more agonizing. They were not with Aster the nights that she would wake up out of a sound sleep, in a panic because she felt like she was being engulfed in never-ending despair."

  Gently, O.K. said, "That sounds terrible, and like such a burden to carry. How old were you?"

  "Her behavior started becoming erratic when we were about fifteen or sixteen. You have to understand, we were inseparable. Even if there was an activity only one of us did, the other usually hung around. Then, Aster started taking off, disappearing. She became secretive and defensive. By the time we were seventeen, she was anorexic and was cutting."

  "Jesus. What did your parents do?"

  "Nothing. Cheryl and Dean are hippies who believe that children will flourish best in an environment of total love and acceptance, and all negativity should be avoided."

  "What the hell does that mean?"

  "It means they never told us no."

  "Never?"

  "Well, that was the thing. They're all crunchy and organic and believed that television and materialism are the roots of all evil, so we weren't allowed to watch TV, and we never had new stuff. The best you could hope for was some good, not super-old stuff from Goodwill."

  "Wow."

  "Yeah. But wait, there's more."

  "Oh, I can barely wait to hear this."

  "This really doesn't have to do with Aster, per se, but more to the dysfunction that is my family. My parents were pretty into drugs for a while in the '60s, especially the psychedelic ones. My mom, after a particularly potent trip, became obsessed with Charlie and the Chocolate Factory."

  "Like Willy Wonka?"

  "Yeah, but the book. This was before the movie. She became convinced that the story of the children was an allegorical message for all that was wrong with society. Gluttony, greed, sloth. And that the only way to pure goodness was abject poverty."

  "Those sound like some of the seven deadly sins to me."

  "Yeah, but by this time, my mom was pretty anti-organized religion, so she didn't see it that way. She saw that Roald Dahl was passing a message along personally to her. Of course, she totally missed the message that the parents were responsible for their children turning out so horrid. She could only see that the external forces corrupted the children. She only saw what she wanted to see. But, nonetheless, she was obsessed and my five older siblings are named after the children in the story."

  "You can't be serious."

  "As a heart attack." I opened my eyes, but still couldn't look at him. I dropped my head, and became focused on my hands which were clasped tightly in my lap. The really embarrassing part was coming next.

  "You do not have a sister named Veruca Salt."

  And there it was. "Actually, she's married now, so it's Veruca Salt Comely Jefferson. I have a sister, Charlie Buckets, as well as Violet Beauregard, and two brothers, Augustus Gloop and Mike Teavee."

  "Holy shit. How many kids are there?"

  "Aster and I made seven. I have absolutely no idea where our names came from. And as much as I hate my name, I guess on some level I should be happy that we were not named 'Oompa' and 'Loompa.'"

  "Now, that would have been a tragedy."

  I smi
led weakly. I was now pretty focused on playing with the large brown tortoise-shell button on my green sweater. It was a comfy sweater, and it was my favorite. I wished it was a suit of armor to protect me from all the hurt that I had endured with my family. I knew I would need to make eye-contact with O.K. again at some point soon, but I wasn't ready yet. I could not believe that I had lost my shit like that. The anger at his suggestion that Aster might be alive simply had overtaken me. I knew it was from battling my family for so long. I knew it had nothing to do with him. I knew I needed to have better control over it.

  "I'm sorry for lashing out at you like that. And for pushing you. I don't know why I did that."

  "You don't have to apologize."

  "Yes, I do. It is inexcusable. That was totally wacko of me."

  "Moderately wacko, not totally. I only go for moderately wacko chicks anyway. I draw the line at totally wacko."

  I sat up suddenly, and looked at him. "O.K., what is going on here?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "I mean, I keep spilling my guts to you. And then you make a comment about going for chicks like me. But, well, not to sound old fashioned, what are your intentions towards me?"

  "Shouldn't your father be asking me that?"

  "I don't speak with my father, remember?"

  "Oh, right. So, you really have no contact with your family because of this thing with your sister?"

  "Stop changing the subject."

  "Esther, you're the one changing the subject. We were talking about your sister and your family."

  Wow, the night had deteriorated fast. Here we were, sniping at each other. Practically yelling. This was not how I had seen the night progressing. Especially after that moment on the couch, and after he kissed me by the sink. This was me, totally blowing it. Figures.

  "See, I don't even know how to ... shit. I fuck everything up."

  "Esther, just calm down for a minute. I know I got you all riled up, and I'm sorry for that. I didn't know talking about your family would be this upsetting."

  I smiled tersely. "That's why I'm better off not talking about them."

  "I can see that. I won't bring it up again, unless you want to talk about it. Deal?"