Pieces of it All (18 page)

Beth wiggled out a smile. "I know, but mugged? Attacked? You forgot how to balance on your bike. Someone attacked her!"

"She'll be fine."

Beth remembered the cast on Lucy's arm. All the students gathered around her when she came to school, trying to get a good look. Lucy, the first person in their class to break a bone, became center of attention. Everyone thought she was so cool. "Your cast was pink. Bright, hot pink."

"It sure was, and I wore it proud. Even to our middle school dance."

"The only person you wanted to sign your cast was Billy Hudson, and get him to dance with you, too." Beth laughed.

She put her finger in the air in a matter of fact way. "And if I recall, I succeeded at both."

"You always got the guy," Beth joked with some resentment in her voice. Maybe if she'd gotten the guy a few more times, her first time with Harvey would've been a bit smoother.

"Do you ever think about Ryan?" Lucy asked.

Ryan - no one else got closer to taking her virginity except him before Harvey came along. "No. I mean sometimes, I guess, but that was high school. We were young and it didn't work out. He's moved on and so have I."

"You're still young," Lucy reminded her.

People kept dangling her age in front of her. "Besides..."

"Let me guess. Harvey." Lucy dropped her hands in her lap.

Here we go again.
Beth ran her fingers through her hair. "I really don't want to get into a fight about him. Especially not now. This isn't the time or the place."

"I don't plan on it. But are you dead set on this guy? He's practically a stranger."

"He drives me crazy." Lucy stared back at her. "I did some research as well. I don't think I have to be afraid of him or anything if that's what you're concerned about."

"It's not. I should tell you, though, my mom told me when my dad was around, Harvey's dad worked at the same factory. He's a drunk and a jerk. Sometimes the apple doesn't fall far from the tree."

"Just because his dad's a jerk doesn't mean he is."

"True, but think about it. His mom is nowhere to be found. One day when Harvey was a kid, she up and disappeared. He was shipped off to school somewhere and then his dad showed up in town. I think Harvey even got kicked out of that school. He's damaged and has a rough past."

Why couldn't Lucy understand how she felt? She never interfered with her relationship. The desire and excitement Beth had wasn't foreign to Lucy. "When I'm with him, I have this amazing feeling I don't want to end." After having sex with him, it was a partial truth. Slight disappointment best described her response to sex, especially considering her getaway.

"I get that, Beth. I understand. I have the same thing with Jack. I don't know. You met a few weeks ago and you're moving so fast. After all the things I've heard, I want you to be safe. I don't want you to get your heart broken."

"I am being safe. You're looking out for me, but you don't need to."

"Am I interrupting anything?" Her dad entered the waiting room. Beth's mom walked up behind him, her left arm in a cast, her forehead mostly covered by a large bandage on it. A few scratches on her cheek and a black eye overwhelmed her face.

"Mom!" Beth ran to give her a hug, working her way around the cast. "Why weren't you at book club?"

Her parents looked at each other. "I think we have a lot to talk about," her mom said.

Chapter Twenty One

If an award existed for resisting the urge to punch someone out, Harvey surely would have been the winner. Every ounce of his being wanted to slam his fist into his father's face. Maggie always filled his conscience, though, reminding him it wasn't worth it. She repeatedly found a way into his head, getting him to do the right thing. Like when the short, stupid bald fuck named Tim bumped into him outside the cafeteria, spilling Harvey's lunch onto the floor. He had Tim by the throat all of five seconds before Maggie talked him down. Now, sitting in front of him, eight ounces of Jack and Coke seduced him. It glistened in the glass, taunting him like the mistress she was. Maggie warned him going to live with his father wasn't the best idea, and urged him to find a rental property on his own or place an ad for a reliable roommate. It's only temporary, he told her. He truly meant those words. A short time; his dad would barely know he came back. Yeah, right. The job started him on his way to escaping, but he didn't expect things to go awry so quickly. Even though eight months had passed, it was as if a day hadn't gone by. They still were at each other's throats like roosters in a cock fight. Two stubborn animals, neither willing to budge.

Like father, like son, here Harvey sat at the bar, alcohol staring back at him. No matter how much he moved forward, the drink kept a piece of him. After he denied himself the satisfaction of popping his father in the face after he forced Beth out, only this remained. The glass started to rattle as he lifted it up. God, what Beth must think of him. He put the glass back down, and picked it up again.
Just drink it
his former self said.
Just drink the mother fucking thing. You'll love it. You'll forget everything that happened.
He shook his head.
No, no, no.
He fought with himself, reminding himself how far he'd come. How far was it really, though, if he sat inside a bar, a drink in front of him? Eight months of hard work ready to be tossed down the hatch.

He lifted his cell phone, which had been squeezed into his other hand, and dialed the number. He didn't even have to think about it. His fingers glided across the screen, pressing the long distance number. A soft voice answered.

"Hi, Maggie." He whispered. "I need you." He forced the words out of his mouth. Need. What a silly concept. Asking someone to give you something selflessly out of the kindness of their heart. Food, a lift to the store, a kick in the balls when your past haunted you from a piece of glassware.

"Harvey. Where are you? You're in a bar, aren't you?"

He pressed the phone to his ear, ashamed to tell her. He set his elbow on the table, grabbing his hair in his hand. "Yes."

"Harvey, sweetie. What are you doing at a bar? What happened?"

This was the part where Maggie would sit down next to him and put her hand on his shoulder, her sympathetic touch bringing comfort to his painful present. A loving gesture would bring purpose to Harvey, self-worth he never had in his life. Her stick straight blond hair that smelled like coconut would graze his neck as she pulled him close and embraced him. He hadn't felt the need to call her since he left, but he was broken.

"Oh, that's horrible," Maggie said after Harvey recounted the story to her, leaving out the dirty details with Beth. "Drinking isn't the answer. I don't have to tell you that. Consuming that beverage only does one thing - get you drunk, which results in consequences you don't want, Harvey. You'll start over on Day One. You'll be upset with yourself in the morning. You'll possibly say or do things you'll regret. Please don't let alcohol define who you are. Find this Beth girl and talk to her. Try to get a place of your own, but have the conversation with your father. Find out about your mom."

A cry stifled in his throat. He couldn't. The discussion never went anywhere. Maggie encouraged him from the beginning of his rehab to get information on his mom. They tried searching in the library, but couldn't find a record of her existence. He didn't even know her first name! Mrs. Etheridge had to be out there somewhere, possibly, hopefully looking for him. His mom had to be the opposite of everything his father claimed - a cocaine addict turned prostitute who left him with a pile of bills and a son he didn't want in the first place. The only truth in the story was his father didn't want him. No one deserved the life Harvey had growing up. No one.

He wept into the phone. Maggie would sit and listen. He loved that about her. Nothing came before him. When he needed something, Maggie put him first, listening and loving and with caring words. He looked at the wound on his hand. He couldn't erase what happened. The scar would always remind him.

"Hey Harvey, you stupid bastard, bring me a fucking beer, would ya?" his father yelled out to him from the living room while Harvey sat at the table doing his homework.

"In a minute. Just let me finish the problem I'm working on."

He stormed into the kitchen. "What the hell did you say to me boy? Are you mouthing off to me?"

Harvey dropped his pencil. "No, I just wanted to finish this problem."

His father marched over to the refrigerator, yanked it open, grabbed a beer, opened it up and took a swig. He proceeded to spit it out. "First of all, this shit's old. Second, was that fucking hard? Now I missed part of my damn show you fucking prick!"

Harvey clenched his jaw, not sure if he was fighting back tears or anger. He contemplated running out of the house like a baby, or taking in all his father had to give him. He never knew what the right decision would be.

"Sorry." He stated.

"I don't fucking think so, Harvey. That didn't sound like you're sorry to me." He tossed his beer can into the sink, which exploded all over the sink and the cabinets surrounding it.

"Look what you made me do! Had you gotten off your ass and gotten me the beer like I asked, this never would have happened!" He stared at Harvey. "Fuck you. I'm getting the fuck out of here and going down to the bar." He grabbed Harvey's pencil off the table, lifted up his arm, and slammed it down into Harvey's hand, piercing his skin. Harvey jumped back, but held back the excruciating pain he was in. "This shit better be cleaned up when I get home."

He marched out of the house, leaving the beer stained kitchen, and Harvey's hand bleeding at the table.

"You're right, Maggie." He slid the glass away from him. "You're absolutely right."

Chapter Twenty Two

Uncomfortable didn't even begin to describe the ride home from the hospital. The tension between Beth's parents filled the car like a deadly gas. Everyone struggled with the same question, but no one wanted to ask. As the street lights lit up her mom's face, Beth saw she had been crying. Her dad focused on the road, fiddling with the radio until he shut it off in frustration. "Why weren't you at your book club?"

Beth held her breath as she and her dad waited for a response. She sat kitty corner from her mom, who stroked her cast like a sick puppy. "I don't belong to one."

"You what?" Her dad shouted. "You lied to me? How long?" His voice quieted, anger still apparent.

"I went back to school." She wasn't about to admit to lying, and she probably didn't consider it as lying anyway. She attended without him knowing, omitting information like Beth did earlier in the week.

He cleared his throat. "I kind of assumed. Answer my question."

Her mom sucked her lips until it turned into a bite. Lip biting only meant one thing - the next sentence wasn't going to make Beth's dad happy. "A year."

"A year?!" A car honked at him as he swerved into the next lane. "Screw you!" He shouted at the driver, flipping up his middle finger.

"Michael, calm down, please."

"You want me to calm down? For a year you kept this hidden? Why? Why did you lie to me? And
why
on Earth do you think you need to go to school?"

"Must we discuss this in front of Beth? This conversation can wait until later."

"Yeah, Dad. Mom's been through a lot." Beth couldn't recall her parents arguing before - at least not in front of her. She witnessed a few disagreements, but those were short, no one raised their voice, and they always ended with a hug. This wasn't going to end the same way. She hadn't heard her dad's voice like this before. The day had been hard enough to add this to her overcrowded plate of emotion.

He slowed for a stop sign. "We can talk about this now. Why are you going to school?"

The lip biting went from a simple bite to a gnaw. Confrontation wasn't one of the things her mom excelled at. Even with this heated exchange, her voice remained soft.

"Out with it," her dad demanded.

"I really would rather discuss this at home. We're less than ten minutes away-"

"You can tell me now." He slammed his hands on the wheel, and Beth jumped. "Why?" She hugged herself, rubbing her arms in discomfort. The streetlights disappeared as they got closer to home, the wooded areas separated by farm fields lost in the darkness.

She rested her right arm on the window sill. "Beth's going off to school in the fall. I wanted to do something for me. I could get a job."

"So you lied to me?"

After an awkward minute, she turned her head away from the window and looked at Beth's dad. "I knew you wouldn't agree to it. I've wanted to do this for years and every time I drop hints, you remind me you make enough money for the both of us and I don't need to work."

"It's true."

"It doesn't matter if it's true, Michael. I want to work. I've
wanted
to work. I love being a mom, believe me, I do, but when do I get to do something for me? When do I become Sharon and not
just
mom?" She glanced back at Beth. "Sorry, honey. I love you. I need another ... identity. For eighteen years I've been wife and mom." She put her attention back to Beth's dad. "I want to be Sharon."

"You
are
Sharon."

"No. I'm not." Her voice cracked. "I'm your wife and Beth's mom."

What could he say to such a bold statement that spoke worlds of truth? Beth didn't remember a day when her mom worked outside the household. She loved being a homemaker, or at least Beth thought she did. She dabbled in hobbies, volunteered at different charity functions and events, but she never went to a job and brought home a paycheck. Any cash she had came in the form of an allowance her dad handed her mom weekly. Every Saturday morning an envelope with "Sharon" written on it with a few twenty dollar bills inside appeared on the kitchen table.