Picking Up the Pieces, page 2
The resentment I now felt for my mother went beyond anything I’d ever felt before, and considering what she’d done in the past, this was quite an achievement. How dare she!
My body was stronger now. Regular physiotherapy had gotten my muscles working properly again, and even though I still needed to use crutches, only a slight limp remained as evidence of the injuries I sustained to my left hip and leg. I pulled myself up and grabbed the crutches. My mother stopped her rant and narrowed her gaze as she watched me approach. I remained calm even though my whole body felt charged with electricity. I was ready to combust. Just one more word…
“What the hell do you think you’re doing? Get back in bed,” she snapped.
“Get out,” I whispered through clenched teeth. She didn't react quickly enough, so I repeated my words loud enough for her to hear the warning in my voice.
“You don't know what you’re saying, Ellie. It's the head injury. You haven't been the same since,” she argued.
“NO SHIT!” I yelled.
Cassie ran into the room but stood back when she realised what was happening. She wouldn't stop me yet. She knew this was a long time coming, and even though she probably would have preferred it a long time ago, the look her face told me she was relieved. I’d finally found something resembling a backbone.
“JAKE IS DEAD! MY DAUGHTER IS DEAD!” My dear old mother flinched at my words, but she stood her ground. Only just clearing five feet, she was a force to be reckoned with, but push me too far and so was I.
“You might have hated Jake, but he was still my husband and I loved him. You might have met Lyla Rose, but I am still her mother and I loved her the moment she was conceived. They were my life. THEY WERE MY LIFE! SO DON'T YOU DARE FUCKING TELL ME HOW MUCH YOU LOVED MY DAUGHTER MORE!” I screamed.
Her eyes glistened, and I think for the first time in her miserable life, real tears streamed down her cheeks. I didn’t care. The strain in my legs grew the longer I stood, and I stumbled slightly. Cassie moved quickly and supported me by my waist and led me back toward my bed.
My mother’s sobs echoed around my room. “Oh, Mother, pull yourself together. What did you tell me once? Crying shows weakness,” I snapped.
For once, my mother stood speechless as she wiped away her tears and stared at me. She suddenly looked small and fragile, but that was exactly how she managed to manipulate me all my life, and I wouldn’t be manipulated now. It was the image she showed everyone to make them believe she wasn't the cold, vindictive cow she really was.
I’d already started, so I decided to add to the carnage.
“I want you to leave and not come back.” She went to speak, but I held up my hand to stop her. She flinched and her eyes turned into tiny slits as she tried to come up with a way to salvage control of the situation. She was back to the woman I’d grown to despise, but right now, she wasn’t going to have control. It was mine, and it felt bloody good. “NOW!”
She nodded, anger still radiating from her, grabbed her bags, and walked swiftly from my room—with any luck, from my life, but I doubted it. I still didn’t cry, because if I did, the dam would break and an ocean of tears would follow and my already ruined heart would shatter into a thousand more pieces.
CHAPTER TWO
Ellie
I propped my feet on the coffee table and slunk back into the depths of the cushion-covered sofa. Cassie sauntered in with two tubs of ice cream and a couple spoons, throwing herself down next to me. When I was discharged from hospital, I moved into her apartment. I couldn’t face going back to the house and what could have been.
After my showdown with my mother, I managed to portray confidence and bravado for a good month, until guilt consumed me. My parents ignored me the entire time, but as if she could suddenly sense my vulnerability, I got a text from my father suggesting I contact her because all the stress hadn't been good for her health. All of a sudden, I was that child again, desperately seeking forgiveness for being a horrible person. Of course, the adult version of myself argued my actions were just and she wasn't really sick, but it didn't stop me from going through the motions that were so deeply rooted they were second nature.
I’d been living with Cassie now for about two months, and during that time, apart from trips back to the hospital for physio and to see Dr. Cole, I’d spent roughly six weeks hidden in my room. I was grateful my sessions with Dr. Cole had been reduced to fortnightly now, as he was happy with my progress. He was obviously not as good at his job as he thought, or he needed to clear room on his schedule, because my mind was far from healed. Hiding away in my room was surely evidence of this, but I must admit I didn't exactly tell him everything. I nodded and agreed in all the right places, and sure enough, my discharge was imminent. It's a pity I was too self-conscious to appear on stage, because my acting skills were truly Oscar-worthy.
“How was work?” I asked Cassie between mouthfuls of Chocolate Chip. Who needs antidepressants when you have Häagen-Daz?
“Good. Everyone says hi by the way.”
I nodded. Before the accident, I worked as staff nurse in the accident and emergency department at the local hospital. Signed off sick indefinitely, no one knew when I would return.
“Maybe you can catch up with them when we go for my farewell drinks?” She continued.
Cassie had recently handed in her notice. She’d applied for her visa and landed herself a job in Vancouver. Yes, my best friend was also deserting me for a better life in almighty British Columbia, Canada. I didn't blame her. A new start was highly appealing. She grew up in the care system, so she didn't have any family. Well, not any who gave a shit anyway. Maybe she was running away from her problems, or maybe she truly was after a fresh start. Regardless, it was what she wanted, and I said I would support her all the way. I was just gutted she had to move so far away to do it. She was more than just my best friend; she was like the sister I never had.
“We’ll see. Not sure if I want to see everyone just yet,” I replied. She sighed and went to protest, but I cut her off before she could say anything. “So. Dad came round. Mum still doesn't want to talk to me until I apologise. I nearly gave in.”
Cassie choked on the ice cream she’d just shoved in her mouth.
“You can't be serious,” she replied after righting herself. “Sometimes I’m really grateful I don't have a family. You don't need to apologise, Els. Remember that. You don’t owe that woman anything.”
“So what’re we watching?” My mother was another subject I was happy to avoid right now. I grabbed a couple DVDs from the table and examined the back covers. It was a choice between the latest Marvel film or Denzel Washington. I secretly hoped the superheroes won. Rom-coms hadn't been in the running for a long time now because, frankly, I still didn’t feel like laughing
“Cas?” I looked up when she didn’t answer. She was playing with her ice cream, avoiding looking me in the eyes. She would never make a poker player. Her face gave away everything. She reached behind a cushion and pulled out a white envelope, gingerly handing it over to me.
“Ted dropped it round this morning.” Ted was the landlord of my house. Despite not having returned since coming home from hospital, I was anxious to know what it was about. I noticed the envelope already had been opened, and I gave her a questioning glance.
“Sorry, hun. I opened it because I wanted to know if it was anything bad.” In other words, she didn't want to be unprepared in case I finally had the meltdown she expected when the shell I’d erected around my fragile mind finally cracked.
I opened the envelope and pulled out the crisp white paper. As I read the note from Ted, I crunched it up and threw it at the bin. I felt sick to my stomach and a pain ripped right through my heart. Returning home hadn’t been on my list of priorities. I knew I would have to go back eventually, but right now, I didn't feel like I could face it. Not that it mattered anymore; the decision had been made for me.
“It’ll be okay, sweetie.” She pulled me into a hug, and I reluctantly let her. I’d never been a huggy person. The concept was foreign to me, even when I was with Jake, but Cassie had always been a hugger and wouldn't let me pull away even if I tried. “I spoke to Ted after I read the letter. He feels awful. He really does, especially after… you know, everything. He's getting a divorce and needs to sell the house. His bitch of a wife is taking the poor guy for every penny he's got, even though she was the one who went all Desperate Housewives and screwed the gardener.”
“I know.” I curled up and leaned farther into Cassie's arms, and she held me as I finally broke down and cried.
“You know you can always stay here.” I did know I could stay with her, but she would soon be leaving too. What would I do then? There was no way I was moving back to my childhood home. When Cassie left, I would truly be on my own. That shell cracked, and piece by piece, my past caught up with me, unravelling everything I’d accomplished over the past four years.
“Come on, Els. Just one more step.”
I stumbled on the last step and fell head first through the now open front door. I swore profusely as pain jolted up my shin. I still walked with a limp, but that wasn't what caused me to fall. I was pissed. So incredibly drunk I couldn't see straight and the world was just one giant merry-go-round. Three concerned faces looked down at me with sadness. I blinked and tried to focus again. Scrap that, only one face looked down at me, and it wasn't just sadness that radiated from those big blue eyes like a glowing beacon. It was pity. After just twenty-four hours from receiving Ted’s letter, I’d effectively gone back four years and picked up where I officially left off. Numbing out the pain at the end of a bottle… or two. It's amazing how you revert to old habits when things get hard.
Cassie has had to help me get home after drinking way too many shots on far too many occasions. My shitty family and her shitty life threw us into the world of drinking and partying at the tender age of sixteen. Even though I didn't look a day over twelve with my petite frame and serious lack of height, Cassie was blond, tall, curvy, and easily passed as being older than her years. The joys of fake ID and knowing the right people meant access to alcohol was easy. I didn’t care so long as I got drunk. I enjoyed the buzz, the sense of freedom, and the fact I could numb away all the shit going on in my life, no matter how brief the effect was.
For two whole weeks, rather than locking myself away in my room or going on a mass spending spree, I numbed out the pain with alcohol. Cider, tequila, beer, wine… whatever was offered. Eighteen-year-old Ellie was breaking loose again. Any semblance of the calm-natured, responsible Ellie was gone, and self-destructive Ellie was back with a vengeance, barely clutching onto life through a permanent drunken haze.
On the last night of my drinking spree, I ended up visiting my old colleagues at the hospital. I would like to say it was to catch up for old times’ sake, but I wasn't conscious enough to mutter a single coherent word, let alone string together a whole sentence. There was also the fact they were busy pumping my stomach at the time. To be fair, that day I’d finally spoken to my mother, which would be enough to send any sane person over the edge. Not once during the hour-long conversation did she ask how I was or what my plans were. She did successfully remind me what a failure I was and how my husband and daughter were dead, though.
Even they couldn’t bear to stick around you!
I think those were the last words she said before I hung up and decided to hit the town. Again. This time, I didn’t want to just become numb. I wanted to forget. Everything. I think I lost at least two hours that evening. I had no recollection of absolutely anything. I know this might have been my intention, but it was utterly stupid and didn’t have the overall effect I was after. The alcohol didn't wipe out the memory of the conversation I had about six hours before.
I suppose you could say one good thing came out of my hospital visit, though. It temporarily sobered me up and made me look at what I was doing with my life. I had been saved from that accident for a reason. I just didn’t know it yet.
Three weeks passed slowly, but not slow enough. The day had finally come where I would have to take the next step. Cassie stood with me at the threshold of my old house. The home I would have shared with my husband and baby daughter—all a distant and shattered memory now. She held my hand as she walked me to the door and then helped me go from room to room, painstakingly packing away my old life. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't prevent the floodgates from opening.
I’d made the decision before going back that most of the furniture and furnishings would be collected by the Salvation Army so they could be donated to families in need. That decision had been easy. Going through Jake’s things, however, was more pain than I could bear. I sobbed hard as I hugged his favourite football shirt close to my chest and inhaled his smell. He’d worn it to a match the day before the accident. Even though months had passed, it still smelled like his Calvin Klein aftershave and the crafty cigarettes he would smoke, believing I was none the wiser. The softness of the fabric and the scent that was purely Jake was comforting and soul destroying at the same time. The familiarity pierced my chest and hit me straight in the heart, and once again, I found myself choking on months of pent-up emotion.
Once the tears subsided, I pushed back the pain until it was like the distant memory of metal crunching on metal and packed up the rest of his belongings. Most could be picked up along with the furniture, but I placed the shirt, along with a few other select items, neatly in a box to bring home with me.
There was just one room left to go through, and I knew without a shadow of doubt, this would be the room that would break me. I slowly opened the door to Lyla's nursery and crumbled to my knees at the sight of her Winnie the Pooh cot and matching furnishings. Stacks of nappies, sleep suits, vests, and other bits and pieces sat in the corner, still in the carrier bags we’d left them in the day before we left for our trip. The pram we’d bought a week earlier was still packed in its box beside the rocking chair I’d fallen in love with. I cried until my body shook with uncontrollable spasms. I cried until there were no more tears to cry.
When I’d finally gained control over my body and mind, I set to work packing up Lyla Rose's nursery, all the while remembering my pregnancy. At first we didn't want to know the sex of the baby, but at the twenty-week scan, we were given the option to find out, and we suddenly found ourselves not wanting the surprise. When they told us we were having a girl, Jake’s grin rivalled that of the Cheshire Cat. He never told me, but I knew he secretly wanted a little girl. I only cared that the baby was healthy, but I was still overcome with emotion. We laughed all the way to the hardware store, one thing at the forefront of both our minds: we were going to paint the walls pink.
Running the parcel tape over the last box, I wiped away a few stray tears. My life was now packed into five boxes and the suitcase currently in my room at Cassie's. There was one box for Jake, one box for Lyla Rose, one box of memories, and the other two filled with other belongings I couldn't go without. It's amazing how a life full of promise and hope can be reduced to just a few photos and belongings.
CHAPTER THREE
Ellie
My head pounded, and if I moved a fraction, I was going to be sick. My alarm suddenly going off next to my head sounded like a jackhammer. I’d given in to temptation and had a few glasses of wine. Okay, maybe it was actually a couple bottles. Cassie was at work, and I was alone with my boxes and text messages from my mother.
Cassie appeared in my doorway in a onesie, looking as fresh as a daisy, holding a glass of water and two little miracle white tablets. Suddenly, the need to be sick outweighed the need to not move my head, and I legged it to the bathroom. Cassie followed after me and waited patiently while I finished puking and rinsed my mouth out using water from the tap.
“You've got to stop this, Ellie,” she said as she handed me the painkillers. As much as I hated to admit it, she was right. Jake was no longer around to help me get through this mess, and Cassie would soon be gone too. There would be no one left to help scoop me up off the pavement, get me home safely, and look after me while I recovered from my stupidity.
I rolled off my stool and stumbled as I tried plant both feet firmly on the floor. The floor was moving. When the hell did I board a boat? Nope, still at the club. The stench of stale smoke, alcohol, and sweat was starting to turn my stomach.
Where’s Cas?
I needed to go home and sleep it off. I had a shift at the hospital in the morning, and I couldn’t go in still drunk. I giggled. I would most definitely still be drunk. I searched the crowds of sweaty dancing bodies for my best friend and then remembered she had a date with… Nope, couldn’t remember his name. He was an arsehole anyway. His name could just be prick for all I cared. He would end up hurting her. They always did.
Finding my feet and gingerly placing one in front of the other, I headed toward the exit. I was thankful I wasn’t the short skirt and heels kind of girl, considering the walk was proving to be difficult in skinny jeans and my favourite pair of purple Docs. I shoved past the people still entering the club and finally made it outside. I sucked in the fresh air and instantly regretted it. The world spun, my knees wobbled, and my stomach heaved. I quickly dashed around the side of the club and relieved myself of my liquid dinner.
