Scars from a Memoir (21 page)

“You got a delivery,” he said, moving back into the hall. When he came in again, a bouquet of flowers was in his arms. “Do you know who these are from?” The flowers were so tall they hid his face.

He set the arrangement on the coffee table, and I reached for the card. “Congratulations, Nicole. I hope your apartment is everything you've always wanted and more. Love, Mark.”

-24-

ASHER HELD MY HAND, but my fingers kept sliding away. Wiping them on my pants didn't help; the sweat reappeared in seconds. The clamminess would stick around until dinner was over. Maybe even throughout the weekend. I hadn't had the opportunity to spend this much time—sober—with my parents in nine years. My glands were responding to their presence. The next three days would tell a lot; this would be either their last trip to Boston for a while or their first of many.

My phone showed seven o'clock, but Asher and I were the last to arrive at the restaurant. Jesse and my dad sat on either side of my mom, both supporting her. They all stood as we approached the table, and I hugged my parents first and then Jesse. I needed his strength to get me through this dinner.

Once Jesse released me, I squeezed in between Asher and my father. “Mom, Dad, meet Asher.”

“Mr. and Mrs. Brown, I've heard a lot about you,” Asher said.

“Likewise,
Son
,” Dad shook his hand.

My father had used that expression in the past when speaking to Eric and some of my other guy friends. I always thought
son
was his way of not having to remember their names. That could have been true, but he knew Asher's. The word meant a lot more now.

We sat around the table, and a waitress took our drink orders. I requested a Diet Coke. When she looked at the others, no one said anything; their eyes were on me.

“Do you mind, Cole, if we order some wine?” Dad asked.

“Order anything you want,” I said. It didn't seem appropriate to tell my parents that alcohol wasn't my drug of choice. Plus, this was a great opportunity to really
show
them how well I was doing.

My parents ordered two bottles, a red and a white, to share with Jesse. Asher got a beer, which surprised me. Except on the night I'd met him, he never drank in front of me, even though I'd told him he could. My parents weren't big drinkers either, but there was tension in the air. If I weren't an addict, I'd want a few drinks to take the edge off too.

Over the last month, I'd spoken to my parents about my meeting with Jesse: what we'd talked about, how warm and welcoming he had been. My parents told me they stayed in contact with him, so I assumed they'd heard his take on our meet-up. I wasn't sure whether my parents had an agenda or just wanted to see how well I'd been doing since graduating from rehab. I sure as hell wasn't going to ask. I was having a hard enough time swallowing my spit.

“I hear you've decided to defer graduate school and pursue your writing,” Dad said to Asher.

“I have, for the time being.” The waitress delivered our drinks, and Asher took a sip of his beer. “My book is being edited right now.”

“Fiction? Nonfiction?” Dad asked.

“It's a novel.”

“What it is about?” Mom asked.

“It's a family saga.”

This was the first time Asher had ever mentioned the topic of his book. Whenever I asked, he always said I'd be able to read it soon.

“I look forward to reading it,” Dad said.

“Thank you,” Asher said. “I appreciate your interest in my work.”

“That's an interesting design you have on your head,” Mom said, referring to Asher's piercings. “Is it symbolic?”

“Nadal has the same piercings. He and I are fans of Egyptian art. The middle symbol is commonly found on their artifacts. We liked the design more than its meaning.”

“The twins are braver than I,” Jesse said. “I pass out at the sight of blood.”

Mom placed her hand on Jesse's. “So do I, dear.” She had already refilled her glass once, and the
dear
was a little dragged out.

“Mom, you should tell Jesse about the time you took Michael and me to the ER after he fell off his bike.”

“Yes, honey, you should,” Dad said. He looked at me, and we both smiled.

Mom's face turned even redder. “Thanks, you two, but passing out at the hospital and getting a concussion is a memory I'd like to forget. Just like the time Michael pierced Cole's ears.”

“Oh, good lord,” Dad chuckled. “That was a much easier fix than when Michael cut Cole's hair.”

I remembered the look on my parents’ face when they busted Michael with scissors and four inches of my hair on the kitchen floor.

My head tilted back, and I let out the biggest laugh. For the first time in years, I wasn't the only one laughing. I couldn't stop.

“Look at her,” Jesse said, gripping my mom's arm. “She's smiling, and beautiful as ever.”

Mom stared at me. So did Dad, a grin on both of their faces.

“You've come back to us,” Mom said.

“And you're more beautiful than when you were in college,” Dad said.

A knot lodged in my throat. I grabbed the edge of the table to stop my hands from shaking. My freshman year in college was the time I'd once considered the happiest of my life; I was on my own, living with my friends, doing drugs, and getting good grades. How could I be more beautiful now?

“After everything you've been though, your smile is as pure as ever,” Jesse said. “It's nice to see. I hope it never leaves.”

“You don't look like you've fought a battle,” Dad said.

It was as though I'd asked my question out loud.

“You may have scars, but they have made you stronger,” Mom added. She looked at my father and then back at me. “I've missed you, pumpkin.”

I couldn't stop my lips from trembling or my voice from cracking. “I've missed you too, Mom.”

“Come here, baby.”

I didn't feel my chair move, my feet step on the ground, or the air swish across my face as I ran to her lap. But I felt her arms squeeze around me, her hair tickling the sides of my face, and her eyes drip tears on my shoulders. I heard her tell me she loved me. I said it back. Then I took a deep breath and released it slowly as though it were the first time air had ever touched my lungs.

*   *   *

Asher and I went for a walk after dinner. I'd eaten more than I had in weeks, maybe months, and my stomach needed to digest. As it was close to ten, the bars were blasting music through their open doors and the sidewalk was full. The restaurant was downtown, and I hadn't been here since I'd worked for Mark. His bar was on the next block, as was the first hotel I'd lived in. As we got closer, I pointed out both.

“I'd like to meet Mark,” Asher said.

“Right now?”

“Why not?”

I wasn't too excited about bringing Mark and Asher together, especially after Mark and I had almost kissed. Mark wouldn't tell Asher that, of course, and there was no reason for me to say anything to him. Our lips hadn't touched, and that's what mattered. But still, it was a little weird to introduce the two of them. I couldn't come up with an excuse; we were already here, and Asher knew I didn't have a problem going into bars.

Big Dan, the bouncer, was working the entrance, and we handed him our IDs. He returned Asher's and held onto mine, looking between the card and me. “Nicole?”

I smiled. “It's been a while.”

“You look…
great
.”

“So do you,” I lied. Dan was well over six feet tall and close to four hundred pounds. Underneath, though, he was a big softie who drank milk from a straw during his breaks.

“Is Mark here?” I asked.

He nodded. “Check his office.”

It was still too early for the place to be packed with college kids, but a crowd close to my age filled the high tops and the seats around
the bar. Mark's office was at the end of the hallway. By the look on his face, I could tell he was surprised to see me. Maybe he was more shocked that I had showed up with another man. I'd already thanked him for the flowers, but I did again as I hugged him.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“We had dinner a few blocks away.”

“Asher?” Mark asked, extending his hand.

Asher reached forward to shake. “Nice to meet you.”

“I've heard a lot about you,” Mark said.

Mark was trying to be friendly; I rarely spoke to him about Asher. His words seemed to work, though. Asher's expression softened, and he smiled.

“Nicole tells me you used to be in a band?” Asher said.

“Lead singer and bass guitar.”

“Ska? Rock?”

Mark waved him over to his desk and typed something on the keyboard. Music started playing through the computer's speakers. They'd found something they had in common; although Asher had never been in a band, music was his thing. I never heard the same song twice at his place.

The five Diet Cokes I'd had at dinner finally kicked in, and I excused myself to use the bathroom. The guys nodded and went right back to listening. As I stepped into the hallway, I smiled inwardly. The two men in my life were bonding. There was never awkwardness when I brought up Mark's name, and Asher hadn't shown any jealousy when Mark sent me flowers. But I didn't want Asher to think I was hiding my relationship with Mark or keeping him to myself. It was just that Mark worked every night and a bar wasn't the right place for me to hang out; there hadn't been a good time for the two of them to meet. Or had there been? Had I wanted to keep those two relationships separate? I didn't know. It didn't matter anymore.

The bathroom was on the other side of the bar, and as I weaved around the center tables, I remembered doing the same years ago but being rocked out of my mind. I'd met Renee at Mark's bar, who introduced Eric and me to Que, our first drug dealer. Renee was addicted to coke, and after an all-night binge at her apartment, Eric and I were using as much as she was. When the three of us got short
on cash, Eric and I went over to Que's to talk to him about doing runs, like a delivery service, for which he could pay us in coke. Instead, Que asked if we wanted to try some heroin. It was so much cheaper than coke, and it looked all professional with its perfect, wax-paper wrapping and stamped emblem.

While I hovered over the toilet, my eyes closed; the memory was so vivid. I was back in Que's bedroom, and he was holding a foil of heroin for me.

*   *   *

I could taste the sweet kid vitamins and bitter vinegar in the back of my throat. I felt it, slowly, at the tip of each limb, and then a rush to my head. It was nothing like coke. It was euphoric. A cloud of cotton swallowed me, and the sun wrapped its rays around my body like a blanket. My chin fell toward my chest, my back hunched forward, my body acted on its own, and my mind emptied. There was scenery behind my lids…aqua-colored water and powdery sand that extended for miles. I didn't know how long I was like that—asleep or awake or totally out of it—but when I came back, Eric and Que were staring at me. I was never going back to coke. I wanted more heroin. And I wanted it now.

*   *   *

I flushed the toilet and walked over to the sink. I soaked my hands with water and pressed them against my face. The first time I'd tried heroin was an amazing memory I'd never forget. But the ones that followed were nightmares. Eric and Renee were dead. As far as I knew, Que was still in jail. I was the only one of our group who was living a normal life again. And despite how incredible I'd felt during that first high, I didn't miss it right now. I finally had my parents back, a man who cared about me, and friends who didn't want anything except my attention.

I opened the bathroom door and bumped into something hard. It took a second before I realized it was a person, and I stepped backward. The man's chest was eye level, and as I looked up, I opened my mouth to apologize. No words came out.

Roger
? What the hell was Sada's boyfriend doing here?

“I told you, you better watch your back,” he said. He moved a little to the side; Sada stood behind him. Her arms were crossed, a smirk on her face.

“This is crazy,” I said, trying to slide past him. He wouldn't let me. Each time I attempted to get around him, he matched my steps.

“You started this. I'm going to end it,” he said.

His hands clasped my throat, and he pushed me against the wall. He wasn't the same size as Big Dan, but he was close to it. No matter how much I tried to wiggle, his grip was too tight, and he dodged my hands as I clawed the air.

“Baby,” he said, “you know what to do.”

Sada got in my face. “Who's a stupid bitch now?” she asked, mocking the last words I'd said to her.

Her fist pounded my right eye and my left, and then black filled my vision.

*   *   *

Looking in the mirror the next morning, I realized no amount of makeup would cover the bruises under my eyes or the swelling. I'd lost my sunglasses during the move; besides, wearing them on an overcast fall day would look odd. The skin that bulged over my eye throbbed, matching the pain in my head. Suddenly the intercom in the kitchen buzzed loudly, notifying us that my parents were here. It didn't help the pain.

Asher opened the front door, and I joined him in the kitchen. Mom was holding a wrapped gift in her arms, and Dad was carrying breakfast. Once they saw my face, they dropped their things on the counter and rushed over to me. Mom put her hands on my cheeks and lifted my head toward the light. “It's much worse than I thought, pumpkin.”

“Cole, I think you should go to the hospital again,” Dad said.

“There's nothing they can do.”

“Who did this to you?” Dad asked.

When I'd called my parents early this morning, I had avoided answering that question. I didn't want to have to explain who Sada
and Roger were or how Asher and I had ended up at a bar last night. I didn't think my parents would be too excited to hear that part. But I didn't want to lie and say I'd fallen down.

“I ran into someone from my past while we were walking home,” I said. “Asher tried to protect me, but there were too many of them. I'm fine, I promise; I just don't look so pretty.”

After I woke up in Mark's chair, he and Asher told me what had happened: Mark had rushed out of his office, thinking I'd been in the bathroom far too long. Mark found Roger holding me against the wall and Sada punching my chest. Asher wasn't too far behind, and he and Mark both jumped on Roger. I had begged them not to call the police—I didn't want any more reports with my name on them—but they were already on their way. Roger and Sada got arrested, we all gave statements, and I was taken to the hospital to get checked out.