Single Player: Humor, Love, Breast Cancer and a Gaming Girl... (22 page)

He introduces me to some amazing new wall patch kits (if you’re not into that sort of thing, sorry, but I am.) then for no good reason at all I grab some new pavers, a medium-sized Japanese fern tree and a bench to put under it. I decide that when I get home today I’m going to make my front yard a nice, cozy, outdoor sitting space to watch Master frolic around in. My spur of the moment decision is seconded by both Burt and Chris, leaving me no room to over think my freshly tested instincts.

We’re finishing loading up all our outdoor supplies onto the massive, heavy-duty rolling cart and are heading back inside to pick up some new vanity lights when I see
The
mom. I quickly realize that she doesn’t see me because right before my eyes she takes a large flask out from what appears to be a new leather bag and takes a long pull from it that would easily drown a medium-sized linebacker. The other thing I take note of is the giant, bearded man standing next to her who’s patiently waiting his turn for a nip of whatever’s in that flask, and I’m guessing it’s not juice. 

Watching in shock I’m frozen in place staring as the two of them finish their midday toast before turning and heading down the aisle marked ceiling fans. Chris is talking to Burt about the best way to install my new pavers, completely unaware of the drama that’s just played out before my eyes. I pull out my phone and dial Liddy’s cell. 

“Ello, Govena!” she chirps in her best British orphan accent.

“Liddy,” I shout-whisper. “Listen, I’m at the Depot (apparently I’m a spy because suddenly I feel the need to talk in code) and I just saw my mother and she’s walking around with some seriously sketchy dude!”

“Wait. What? How? I just dropped her at AA like twenty minutes ago. It must’ve just been someone who looked like her. The woman you saw must just be a look alike.” Wool, I’d like you to meet Liddy’s eyes.

“Um, Liddy? It was definitely Charlotte and I hate to tell you this, but I’m pretty sure she’s drinking. At The Depot, not the AA.” I can’t stop with the abbreviated spy talk!

“WHAT?!” Never thought she had that tone in her.  Good on ya. She isn’t done either. “CONNOR! Get in the car. We’re going to The Depot. See you in ten CeeCee. Tail her and I’ll call you when we get there.” She’s gone and I’m already pushing my giant cart in the perp’s direction trying to get the coordinates of their current location.

I look behind me and see Chris giving Burt a nice firm handshake in thanks for his help this afternoon. His eyes meet mine and he can instantly tell something’s up. The wheels on my rig are squeaking like mad and I realize that if I want to remain unnoticed by the “convicts” I need to slow down and get control of the cart as well as my emotions. I refuse to let this woman ruin my day. She’s done more than enough day-ruining in her lifetime.

“CeeCee! Wait up!” Chris is gaining on me fast and I’m not stopping. There’s a shit storm that’s about to kick up and I’m on a mission. Currently I have no specific plan in place other than to continue following the you know who and sketchy as directed by Liddy, the newly-appointed leader of this little operation.

“SHHHHH!” I whisper loudly at him, my spit flying past either side of the finger I have pressed firmly against my lips. “She’ll see us.”

“Who?” He says, frantically looking around for whoever’s causing my current freak out.

“My mom! I just saw her. Here! She was drinking AND it’s the middle of the day AND she’s supposed to be sober AND right now she’s supposed to be at The AA.”  Understanding shows across his face. His eyes dart around some more and I can see when he spots my doppelganger at the end of the aisle, who
again
is swigging from the shiny flask. Keepin’ it classy, mom. Keepin’ it classy.

“What are you trying to accomplish by spying on her?  Just go confront her. I’m here, I’ll go with you. There’s no reason we can’t all act like civilized adults here.” Dr. Chris is back and for the first time I’d like him to drop his doctor’s façade and be a pissed off friend instead. 

“We are not confronting that lying, convicted, drunken, mother-faker! I am far too angry to deal with her and besides, I’ve called my brother and he’s on his way here now. The plan is to watch her like Liddy said to do and wait.”

“I’d like to go on record right now as saying that I don’t think this is going to end well and I think your plan is terrible. That’s it, just wanted to put that out there before the shit starts hitting the fan.” He’s got his hands crossed in front of his chest like a stubborn toddler, and without warning his obstinance flares something up in me that I’m unable to explain.

“Fine! You want me to deal with it! FINE!” My shouting does not go unnoticed. This store proves to be a bit of an acoustical nightmare when yelling, because the sound echoes all up and down the many long and high aisles before bouncing right back to your own ears. 

My mom turns to see what the ruckus is all about and when she does, our aqua eyes lock. Mine in determination, hers in fear. This is how our first meeting should have gone, with me telling her exactly how I’ve felt about her leaving us all those years ago, but I guess today’s been picked as the time to make things right. It’s time for a reckoning.

“How dare you.” My finger is up and closing in on her, but I know better than to actually touch her. I’m aware of her legal rights and my very real fear of being locked up in a jail cell. “Connor and Liddy have been bending over backwards to make you comfortable, to give you a home, help you get back on your feet and this is how you repay them?” I point to the flask sticking out of her purse and she knows she’s busted.

“Please don’t tell them. Please… I promise, it won’t happen again.” Big guy next to her takes the flask from out of her purse and boldly brings it to his lips in a show of open defiance. He and I hold eye contact until he’s done drinking and then he places it back in her bag for me to see. Asshat!

“I’m afraid It’s too late for that because I’ve already called them and they’re on their way here! I guess you’ll have to explain the “it won’t happen again” plan to them and see how they feel about it. I’m sure they’d be delighted to meet your friend here, too. He seems awesome. Matter of fact, maybe you can go stay with him until your next stint in prison.” Chris has his hand on my back, supporting me while I say the things I’ve needed to say to my mother so that I can finally release the toxic anger I’ve had bottled up inside me for so long.

She has the nerve to stare down at her feet in distress while the big lush with her huffs off like the mutt he is, sputtering something about how he doesn’t have time to deal with other people’s family shit right now. My phone beeps and I look down and see that it’s Connor.

we’re here
.

what
aisl
e
are you on?

I type back

Five
…
and then we wait. 

“Mom?” Connor is out of breath as he runs up the aisle like a crazed, confused lunatic (that’s a first for Mr. Methodical). 

“I don’t understand? You’re drinking?” It’s sad how shocked he is. He shouldn’t have trusted her, but he’s so good he refused to see her for the person she really is, a mother who left her family for booze and showed back up hoping in time we’d all forget about her “little” indiscretion after trying to pass the buck on to our dad.  Not likely.

“You don’t understand how it is for me. I can’t live with what I’ve done to you guys. To that other family! I’ll never be able to fix this or make anything right.” 

She’s crying now and I’m disgusted. I don’t know exactly when it happened but over the last couple of weeks my distrust in her has grown. Maybe it was because she didn’t fight harder for me or my instincts aren’t as bad as I once thought. But I see her clearly now and I know what she’s doing and it’s done. Not on my watch.

I step in front of Connor to finish what I started. “You may as well go find Brutus, because you are no longer welcome. You can call or text with an address when you get one and we’ll make sure you get your things, but I’ll be damned if I sit by and watch you continue to leach off Liddy and Connor, using their kindness against them! Not for one more day.” Chris is quietly rubbing my back and the other two are staring at me like I’ve grown a third head. I get it, I’m shocking myself with the cahoona’s I’m displaying but hey, I’m my father’s daughter, not this leech’s. 

She turns and as she is about to walk away she finally decides to show us her true colors. That a girl.

“I don’t want any of that shit. You can keep all of it, none of it’s my style anyway,” she says looking pointedly at Connor and Liddy before turning back to me.

“And you, little girl. You think you’re so much better than me but you’re not. I drink my problems away but you, you just try to hide from yours. We’re no different, you and I. Have fun looking in the mirror, daughter.” 

Without another word she turns and walks away.  Never once does she look back with any pain or regret, she simply walks out of our lives once more to go and find her man and her flask, recycling her life story yet again. I can’t help but be thankful, because in a very short amount of time she’s managed to teach me exactly who I don’t want to be and that would be anything like her. From this point forth I will NO longer be hiding from my life but instead I vow to live it. For the first order of business, I need to find my best friend and bring him back home where he belongs.

seventeen

Since that day at The Depot I’ve turned a corner in my life.  Right now I’m rounding yet another one and see my destination as the engraved brass-plated name cover of one, Dr. Chris Small comes into view. Funny, I never knew his last name was Small. Silly thing not to ask, but I suppose you could say my mind has been preoccupied as of late, but not anymore. Not since the jailbird left town.  At last I feel free, and I’m hoping this visit will come as a giant surprise to my fav doc. The moment he sets those beautiful eyes on my smiling face he’s going to know that all his relentless pushing, abuse, and aggravation have indeed paid off because I’m OUT BABY (just the regular kind of out, not the out of the closet kin
d
)!

Tap, tap my tiny knuckles say to the door. “Come in,” says the friendly voice I’ve grown to adore on the other side.

“Hello good sir. I come baring gifts for the man who saved my life.” Our eyes meet and a small smile spreads instantly across his face.

“You’re here.” He comes around his grand mahogany desk and takes my hand as he leads me over to sit on the couch by the windows. “I can’t believe you’ve done this… Talk,” he says still holding my hands (not very doctory, but what do I know.).

“I wanted to surprise you and, seeing that I so grandly have, mission number one is accomplished.” I say making a giant check mark in the air with my free hand. The rest of what I’ve come to say is something I’ve been thinking about ever since our picnic dinner at my place the first week we met. 

“Mission two is this; I’d like to have the genetic testing done that you previously recommended. I’d like both the BRCA one and two tests, and I’d like to set it up today if you can help me. I’m ready, no matter the outcome.” His face lights up with a mega-watt smile, setting me aglow with its luminescence.

“Just so happens you’ve come to the right place. But, you should know the results take about a month or so to get back and in that time you can be sure to deal with some pretty serious stress. Do you really think you’re ready for that?” Hell no!

“Yep (nope), I’m just hoping this Dr. friend I know can schedule me in for a bunch of appointments to work out how I’m going to process those results one way or the other. I have a feeling he can, and I happen to know that I can.” Then I wink at him, which lands me a wink in return.  He really is incredibly dreamy.

He’s on the phone scheduling my test for later this afternoon when I hear him tell the mystery person on the other end of the line to come down to meet the patient. He explains that she’s the other woman he spends all his free time with these days. A minute goes by and then another round of tapping starts at the door.

“Why, you’re a very popular guy, Dr. Small.” He smiles his dreamy smile at me before shouting, “Come in,” to his newest visitor.

The door opens and in glides the most stunning Amazonian woman I’ve ever seen. She’s so graceful she looks to be flowing (seriously, she flows) across the room towards us. Both of our eyes are turned in her direction, as she holds us captive with her rare beauty. A baby would stop what it was doing to check her out. Hubba-Hubba.

“Hello, darling. Is this the friend you’ve been dying for me to meet?” She’s British. Why are little bells going off in my head right now? It’s like I know her, but I know I don’t. You don’t forget this woman. She extends her lovely hand out to shake mine, and as I take it in my own unremarkable one she does that beautiful, European, double kiss thing to me and I practically swoon. Again, I’m straight, but this woman is just… Let’s just say, I’m glad Ashton isn’t here. I’m still mad at him, but also I have come to terms with the fact that I can’t live without him, so there’s that.

“I’m Cecilia. Well CeeCee actually. Cecilia’s my formal name, no one ever uses it.” I’m stammering like a school boy asking out a girl for the very first time. ‘YOU’RE STRAIGHT,’ I shout loudly to myself.

“I love it. You’ll be Cecilia to me. Of course, only if that’s alright by you?” She’s too pretty. I nod my approval of her formal name choice, unable to speak. 

“I’m Angela (OMG, it’s a name of an angel!). I’ve heard so many wonderful things about you from our Christian here. If I were a lesser woman, I’d have been terribly jealous of all the time he spends with you. Good thing I’m not though because you’re quite beautiful.” Wait. Chris plus Small is Chris Small.  But she said Christian all Britishy and it sounds so familiar. OH MY GOOD GRACIOUS! SWEET BABY JESUS, HE’S MRNOTSOSMALL@ALL! I stand up, wildly throwing my hands around the room, gesturing at all the doctory things on the walls while trying to make sense of all the new data I’ve just become privy too. Then I see it… an… XBOX!

He watches me working things out and then he witnesses the moment I finally put all the pieces together.  Honestly, you’d have to be a monkey not to recognize the shocked facial expression exploding all over the many planes of my face! I’m all mouth agape, eyes’ swollen like melons, hands thrown up to my forehead in horror! 

“YOU! I know who you are.” I say while backing away from him and pointing my well-practiced pointing finger.  “And! AND! I have a very bad feeling that you know exactly who I am.” His British lover now looks confused as well. Welcome to the party, Hot Stuff!

“Wait. I thought the two of you were already friends?  Am I confused, Christian? This is the CeeCee you told me you wanted me to meet? The one I’m doing the test for in an hour?” At least she looks as lost as me and - wait - she’s a geneticist and
that
good looking? There’s not a woman alive who has a chance in bloody hell against, against… That!

“Okay. Okay. Would you please sit down, CeeCee, and just give me a chance to explain all of this?” He gets up, takes my hand from my forehead and gently encourages me to follow him back over to the couch. “Do you remember that night not too long ago when you drank… a bit (his face says it was way past a bit but whatever) and then you proceeded to pass out on your couch?”

“Oh God, no. Please don’t say anymore.” My head falls forward into my shaking hands and I feel the need to barf in memory of that night
and
because of this moment.

“I don’t know how it happened, but somehow you video messaged me. I think maybe Master Chief did it on accident. Since we’ve been hanging out I’ve actually witnessed the Kinect pick up his heat signature in the room and sign you in.” I can’t look at him. I’m totally humiliated. 

“That night when you popped up on my screen, I couldn’t believe it when I saw that PrettyPanites was you.  You can’t imagine how often I’d hoped to see you again someday and then like magic… You were just there, up on my flat screen staring back at me. I told you once that I thought it was just luck that I found you after all this time.  But, I don’t think that anymore. I think some way, somehow in some kind of celestial, cheesy move, your dad finally brought us together. Bottom line, I don’t care how it happened I’m just glad that it did.”

“I can’t believe you’re him.” 

He pulls me in, puts his heavy arms around me, and stands tightening the hug around me further. After a couple of minutes the Brit joins in and begins rubbing soothing circles on my slender back the way Chris/Christian (!!!) so often has recently and how Ashton used to. They should be a professional hugging duo.  They’re that good. 

After several calming minutes I finally ask, “So how did you know where to find me? I mean, how did you know where I lived?”

“I hate to say it, but that information was pretty easy to get my hands on. It may have been in your dad’s file and I may have looked it up. Then I may have gone over there only to find that the people who live there now are renting from one Cecilia St. May and they may have been nice enough to give me her address after being convinced that she and I were long lost friends from high school.” It’s cute the way his face wrinkles up with guilt during his lengthy confession.

“I guess I need to have a talk with dear old Mr. and Mrs. Cox. Can’t have them giving out my address to all my ‘long lost friends ’now, can I?” 

He looks hurt until I finish, “But, I also suppose I owe them a big thank you, because without you and all your help, no way would I be so well adjusted today.” For some reason he thinks that’s funny and he replaces his frown with a goofy smile, while the Brit and I laugh at his silly, relieved expression.

Seeing that everything appears to be settled, Angela’s ready to go and pulls me along after her.

“Well, now that that’s all sorted out, how about I take the patient here up to my office and do the tests now since I have a couple minutes to spare. Then you’re free to go and the day will be all yours to do with as you please, Ms. Cecilia.” She’s so lovely.

“I’d love to do it now (I don’t mean
that
!).” I may be blushing wildly.

As we leave the room, Chris/Christian/Mrnotso asks, “So. Now that we’re good, do you want to play with me later today? (WHAT? His girlfriends right here!) Call of Duty’s just not the same without you by my side (okay… that makes way more sense). You really are the shit, ya know.” Yeah I am! 

“I’d love to play with you (UGH!),” I give him my best ‘I dare you look’ and continue, “I’m taking the bus home after she sticks me with her needles. Master needs a walk, then I think I may stroll over to the mall. Hopefully Victoria and all her Secret’s will be seeing all my mystery’s today,” I give Chris my famous double eyebrow lift and he barks out a laugh like a seal. 

“Okay, you two game geeks. How about we go and test those genes of yours, MsPanties. Oh, and Love? How about later we play a game or two of our own?” Her singular wink means way more than my double one did, good for you Chris. His hard finishing’s are for sure getting shined tonight… and TWICE!

***

After my blood’s been drawn and sent off to the lab, I bid my new friend Miss Universe/smarty-pants geneticist goodbye before taking the elevator (I TOOK THE
ELEVATOR
!) down to the main lobby. I’m about to exit the building when a sign above the threshold catches my eye:

SUPPORT GROUP MEETING: THIS THURSDAY NIGHT 7-9pm. FAMILY AND SURVIVORS ENCOURAGED.

Underneath, in smaller print it reads:                             
 
free donuts and coffe
e
!

What would a good support group be without those infamous sustaining accoutrements? The small font at the bottom does them no justice at all, they deserve top billing or at least second row, and in bold to be sure! I’d be willing to bet more people would show if those globs of sugar and caffeine were given their due credit. Finishing my internal tangent, I decide to at least add the time and date into my phone’s calendar and then maybe one Thursday evening I’ll decide if I’m in need of donuts and coffee.

An hour later I arrive at the mall and, unfortunately for me it’s as big as I remember. Even though I know I can do this, I’m still stuck outside the doors reciting the lyrics to Blackbird, trying to calm my breathing by matching it to the heavy bass accompaniment of my heart.

The panic hasn’t disappeared from my life entirely.  It’s only now I’m capable of handling it thanks to all the recently-learned and routinely tested therapy techniques I’ve added to my arsenal of tricks. Standing our her alone in the heat, repeating the familiar lyrics over and over, I’m reminded that I haven’t heard from Ashton since the night of our relationship-destroying selfies. 

The images in my mind bring forth the truth of the perilous situation I find myself in with him. It’s possible that I’ve lost any chance I may have had with Ashton, because for the first time he’s not following our typical quarrelling M.O. Not once has he contacted me to see if
we
were all right, to see if
I
was all right. This is… Not…   Good. 

If I‘m ever going to get the nerve up to go into this mall, I have to extinguish all my racing thoughts of Ashton and just make my move. A moment later I’m struck by a tidal wave of moxie, just what the doctor ordered. In reply to this sudden dash of courage I swing the door open and Hel..lo world! I’m at the mall! I strut my stuff (I really have no stuff to speak of) closer to the doors and as I approach the glass and steal beauties seem to throw themselves open in welcome (Turns out it’s just a really nice guy graciously holding them open for me as he leaves.). At once I’m struck by my most favorite mall smell, Sbarro pizza. The garlicky, cheesy, greasy goodness is calling to me, so I answer. I step up to the metal counter, point to the slice I believe I need in order to survive and am handed my bounty on a perfect red and green circular plate. 

Moments later, I’m sitting at a two-top, no memory of paying or asking for the soda before me, watching intently as people happily and haphazardly browse around. Not only have I just had the greatest slice of pizza ever but also I seem to have found myself a little slice of heaven here at this table as I watch all the other shoppers walk around with their bags full and their arms weary from a job well done.

Most of these people seem to be oblivious to the chaos that surrounds them, but not me. I can see it like a lone bee in a busy hive. There was a time that I used to be just like them, carefree and open for the adventure of the day. But, then my dad passed and I left the hive to live a life of solitude and self-induced hibernation just like the bear that eats from it.