Candlemoth: A Holy City Romance (19 page)

Ry’s face looked like the little boy he once had been. 

“Because of her drinking?”

He nodded.

“You took care of her when you were still just a kid, didn’t you?” I said.

“People like my parents... divorce is still so frowned on.  But they can hardly stand to be in the same room; at first I think she drank to try to make things work.  To take the edge off, to make things easier to swallow… but that doesn’t work.  I don’t know what to do for her, anymore.”

“Just love her, I guess.  Be with her.”

“She stood up to him last night.  Said that if he cuts me out, she’s out, too.  He slammed the door on her, Lily.”  He smiled wryly.  “We’re in a hotel.”

“Your apartment?”

He shook his head.  “It’s my fault, really.  I’m not great with change; I should have moved things around a little more so he wouldn’t have so much control…”  He looked out the window.  “In a way, maybe they’re not so different, our mothers…”

There was a quiet knock on the door.  “Honey, whenever you’re ready,” Steve said, from out in the hall.  “No rush.  I’m here.”

I sat up and put my head briefly in my hands.  I looked at Ry through my fingers.  “Speaking of mothers.  You want to come with us?”

I’d called the radio station earlier that afternoon, wondering if they kept the phone numbers of callers on file.  And they did. 

So I’d called the number my mother had given them.  She was staying at some kind of group home or something, no surprise there.  The woman who answered the phone at first sounded curt.

“Is… Snow there?” I said.  It was strange to say her name. 
My mother’s name is Snow.  My mother’s name is Snow, and she named me Lily.
 

The woman put the phone down without a word.  “Snow!” she hollered.  “Somebody on de phone!”

I heard raucous laughter in the background, the shuffling of bodies and chairs. 

Then the quality of the sound on the other end changed- I could hear it even through the earpiece- and I knew my mother was listening to me breathe.

“Hi,” I said, and then, after a beat.  “It’s Lily.”

“I know,” Snow said.  Oh, she sounded so familiar and so strange, all at once!  There were certain qualities in her voice that I knew we both shared, and it made my pulse quicken.

“Today didn’t go so good,” I said.  “Can I take you to lunch tomorrow?”

“Oh, snap, I’d
like
that!  You a sweet girl,” Snow said. 

The strangeness overpowered the sweet.  But still.  I felt warm.  My mother.  She was
my mother.

“Okay, tell me your address, and I’ll come get you at 11:40.  Is that okay?”

“Sure, I ain’t doing any’ting,” my mother said.  I pictured her mouth grinning wide, full of gaps.  What did she look like?  Did she look like me?

“Okay.  I’ll see you then!” I said, after she read me the address.  “Bye.”

When I hung up, my hand was shaking.

Then I’d called Steve.  He was working that night and couldn’t leave until tomorrow, and even then I was asking him to take off a few days early, no notice.  He hated to obligate his team.  I couldn’t remember ever asking him to do it, before.  The only time he’d ever had to take off work for me that I could remember was when I got really sick with the flu at the tail end of high school.

But of course he’d come, he said.  He wouldn’t be anywhere else in the world.  “Whatever you need, babydoll,” he said. 

My voice had been wet and full of relief.  “I love you, dad,” I said.

“You’re my sun and moon, babydoll.  Aw, shit.  I gotta go, they’re calling me.  I’ll put in for time and I’ll see you real soon.  Okay?  You okay, now?”

“Mm hmm.”

“Bye bye, honey.”

So at eleven am on the following day, there we were piling into his truck, the three of us- Steve and Ry and me- because we’d all agreed that even though it would be a little squished, Ry’s car probably would make Snow feel uncomfortable. 

Really though, my reasons were selfish.  Steve’s rusty old Chevy made me safe. 

For years it had symbolized love and safety to me; I treasured the days when Steve picked me up in it from school. How many afternoons had I sailed my hand in the warm air over the asphalt as we drove home together to make dinner and watch TV while I picked at my homework…?

Now I crouched in the back.  I had insisted Ry take the front seat.  “You want us to come inside with you?” Ry wanted to know. 

“That’s okay.  I mean- if you don’t mind.  I just want to know you’re there,” I said, in a tiny voice that sounded like it belonged to someone else.  Someone three sizes smaller.

The group home was a dingy little house with an unmowed yard.  Kids screamed in the driveway, apparently playing some touch-football version of tag, and as we pulled up, there was part of me that wanted to run away.  Run anywhere but there.

I almost leaned forward and told them to keep driving.

Somehow, I got out and walked shakily to the front door.  She must have been watching us the whole time, because she opened the door instantly.  There was no question in my mind that she was my mother.  She had sixty pounds on me, easily, and her face looked slightly like melted tallow with all the years of drugs and drinking, but the shape of her eyes and her high cheekbones was as familiar to me as my own.

Snow wrapped me in a stale, cigarette-scented hug.  “I wondered if you was gonna come,” she said, smiling broadly, tenderly.  Her teeth were like I’d pictured them.

“Hi,” I said, in a little kid’s voice.  Then, I hugged her again, burying my face in her soft, unfamiliar powdered arms.  She’d worn perfume for me, a scent right out of a childhood I hadn’t known I remembered.  Vanilla and warm rain.

I wept.  “Hi mom,” I said, again, holding her tightly.

“Hi, child.  Oh, hello, hello, now.”

Snow thought McDonald's might be a good place to go for lunch, so that was where we went.  There was one mercifully close by, and I thought I could keep it together in the truck long enough for us to get there, at least.  My nose was running, and I tried to sniffle silently.  I didn’t want anyone glancing at each other over me.  I was fine.  I could handle this.  I
had
handled this.

Snow gazed out the window serenely, laughing now and again for no reason any of us could see. 

When we pulled up and got out, I was grateful for the heat of the afternoon, for the relief of air that did not smell like sadness.  She and I walked inside together, and I held the door for her.

In the corner of my eye, I watched Ry and Steve parking off to one side.  I knew Steve was choosing his spot on purpose, where he knew I’d be able to see his truck clearly, and this steeled me. 

We ordered and sat down and I smiled at my mother and took a big bite of my burger when it came. 

Shyly, Snow slipped a hot french fry into her mouth.  “Mm-mm,” she said, happily.  Her eyes remained pinned to my face, as if she couldn’t take in enough of me at once.

“You just beautiful, Lily,” she said.  “So beautiful.”

“Thanks,” I said.  “This- um.  I’m glad you came.  I never knew how to- how to find you.”

“Sometime I don’t know how to find myself.”  Snow sat back, smiling gently.  “Look at you, my baby girl all did good.  You all over TV, baby!  I say to them, I saw, I made that!  Nobody believe me, maybe, but you know.”  She leaned forward, slyly.  “You got that thing, you know, that magic thing make men want to be close to you.  I know!  I gave it to you.”

I was silent.  After a beat, I put back down my burger. 

“You bring me money?” she said, sharply.

“I want you to know- Snow, if you’re lonely, I’ll always come and sit with you.  I never want you to be lonely.  You’re my mother, no matter whether you’re using or not.  But I can’t give you money.  And I won’t.”

“Well,” she said, sitting back. Her long fingernails skated over the surface of the shiny table and then fell limply into her lap.  My mother looked at me beadily.  “O-kay.  O-kay!  Well, baby, you
hard!” 
Then she threw her head back and pretended to laugh.  “You hard, you didn’t get that from me.  But maybe that’s good.  Yes.”  She stood, her back curved, fiddling with her purse on the seat.  She was hiding her face from me.  “Yes, maybe that’s good…”

“Stay,” I said.

“Mm, mm, I think I better go, I gotta- I gotta be somewhere-”

“Mom?”  I put my hand on her arm.  She looked at me, surprised, and I gave her a small card. “This is my number.  Will you- will you keep it somewhere safe?”

“Sure, baby,” she said.  For a moment the beadiness went out of her eyes, and they were soft on mine.  I looked at her and saw all the things she’d been: an unwanted child, so eager to be wanted by anyone, and then steadily eroded, used up by those who only took and took from her: her body, her safety, her dignity; and she began to blunt the pain with the tools nearest at hand.

Who can blame someone for seeking the compassion of chemicals, when they cannot find it anywhere else?

She touched my hand lightly with hers, her fingers lighting down gently, as if she were afraid I’d pull away.  As if she expected me to. I squeezed her, and she squeezed back.

“You the most beautiful thing I ever did,” she said, softly.  And then she hurried away, holding her purse in front of her like a baby.  I never saw her again.

Outside, I heard the familiar rumble of Steve starting his truck.

  “You want to get a beer?” Steve said, as I got in.

“I don’t know,” I said.  “I think I want to… feel this.”

“There’s a good spot over here we we can look out over the river,” Ry said, glancing back at me.  “They’ve got tea, too.”

“That sounds better,” I said. 

Once we were sitting in the restaurant, looking out over the water as Ry suggested, he excused himself tactfully, sensing that I wanted to be alone with Steve.

“He’s a really good guy, Lily.  Ry is.  I enjoyed talking to him.”

“Yeah, he’s amazing.  It’s a little hard for him, I think- all this stuff with Casper and whatever- but it’ll be okay.  Maybe-” I tried to shrug.  “Or maybe it won’t.  I guess we’ll see.”  I picked up my water glass and then put it down again.  After all, the cards were stacking against us.  And higher all the time.  Suddenly I didn’t know what to do with my hands.  “He’s had a lot of
people
in his life.  And it’s been so hard for us.  I mean, everything keeps going wrong.  It’s almost eerie, you know?  Like the universe is saying- nope.  So I’m trying not to get my hopes up too much.  In case it doesn’t work out.”

“Y’know… before Charlotte came along, I had me something of a reputation,” Steve said. “I liked the ladies a little, you could say.  I’ve never mentioned it to ya because well, it ain’t relevant.  I wasn’t no international playboy or nothing but a couple gals got hurt when I didn’t mean for them to.  People can change.  Anyway, sometimes a guy’s got hidden depths, you know?  A dude can be more complex than he seems.  I think Ry’s got metal, that’s what I’m trying to say.”  He threw up his hands.  “Just an old guy’s perspective, but nothin’ for nothin’, there it is.”

I smiled at him.

“What, baby doll?  You look like that cat that got the proverbial cream.”

“Nothing.”  Still smiling, I glanced down, sipping my water.  “Someone else said that to me, once.  This pretty amazing guy.”

“Oh, now am I repeating myself?  I’m getting old!”

“Nope,” I said, grinning as Ry walked towards us.  I couldn’t keep the smile off my face for five minutes when he was around.

“What the hell?” Steve said, “what’s so funny?”

“I don’t know!”  It felt so good to laugh that I couldn’t stop, and soon he and Ry were laughing, too.  Sometimes there isn’t anything you can do but laugh.  And all in all, it wasn’t a bad way to end the afternoon. 

Except that it wasn’t how the afternoon ended.  When we got back in the truck, there was a new message on my phone.

“Miss Inoue, please return my call as soon as you receive this,” an educated voice said, as crisply as if he were reading from a script.  “I am a representative for the Calhoun family.  We need to have a discussion.”

======= Chapter ==================================

“What you don’t understand is how much your insistence on involving yourself with Ryland will hurt him,” the man said. 

I paced in my apartment.  I’d told the guys I wanted some time alone, and they’d left on an errand.  “I’m not the only one insisting.  And Ry’s choices speak for themselves, don’t you think?  He knows who I am, and he still-”

“Ryland Calhoun is a young man, and he does not understand the full import that being
cut
from his family’s inheritance would have on his life.  And on those who depend on him.  You see, Mr. Inoue, the philanthropic trust he has established, the families he supports?  All that would dissolve.”