Where Would I Be Without You

Chapter One

It's my birthday and I'll cry if I want to, cry if I want to. You would cry too if it happened to you. Ok, it's not my official birthday yet, but the one time I plan my own birthday party; one very bad thing made everything else go horribly wrong. As I lay here singing that song over and over with just the one verse in my head, I felt the whole thing rehash in my mind like a hamster on a running wheel as I tried to determine where I went wrong. What made me think that I was capable of even making good choices? How the heck did I end up here? Drunk, naked in my bed, drooling into my pillow? I had cried to myself for hours thinking about everything that just happened. Wondering why I make such foolish decisions that lead me down a path of either shame or sorrow. How did I Amber Jones, five foot six, one forty wet, green eyes and brown hair with copper highlights, get to be who I am at this very moment, one extremely depressed sad birthday girl?

Just twelve hours ago, I was getting ready to head out and meet my family, my best friend Marion and her husband Carl and my kind-of new boyfriend Steve, at an up and coming Italian restaurant down on Seventeenth.

My mom had made the reservations for twelve people, but the place usually only sat four or six tops, so they made us pay an extra hundred for the backroom held for large parties. I only turned thirty once and told her to go ahead, and I would pay it. Besides, maybe Steve would be impressed with the room and... my new dress that I had just bought - dark blue, clingy, cocktail of a number with matching strappy heels. Not to mention, the two hours working on my hair into an updo and perfectly styled makeup, and I looked hot.

I felt hot and desirable, perhaps having something to do with Steve and my recent level of orgasms. I was looking forward to a great night of birthday wishes, fun chitchat, and then ending it with a very, very romantic night with Steve. Because, up until now, it was quickies during lunch at the motel down the street from my work every Wednesday and early Sunday mornings at my place. He claimed his job as a security manager at the airport had him working off hours, and he had a sick sister he helped take care of. However, he had guaranteed me that tonight, was our night. Even though, it had to be at my place because his apartment was being fumigated for bugs since an old lady neighbor died and wasn't found for too many, too ripe, days later. Just that mention, and I had no desire to sleep over at his place any ways. I had a feeling if I ever did, every time I walked by his neighbor's apartment, I would be completely slammed with sorrow and depression over how his neighbor died.

Looking back, my night started with a euphoric high of self-confidence and positive outlook. Somehow though, the night went horrible wrong. Where should I start? I arrived looking glamorous and feeling like a model, fifteen minutes early. I was greeted by my father Hal, who had already been on drink number four and was slamming it back, all because of my mother. She was riding his ass about something new that she found a thrill in riding his ass about. This is why my father drank and had an occasional fling on the side, not to my approval, but I could somehow see why he did. I grabbed my own shot of whiskey from the bar and slammed it back, and then I proceeded to walk confidently to the party room where my party was to be held. I was promptly overwhelmed with the birthday balloons and dangling ribbons everywhere. It looked like a toddler turned two birthday decorations. Big bold numbers three and zero were everywhere. Matching colored sparkly tabletop decorations were placed along the twenty-foot table that they were sitting us at, not to mention the confetti that was made of sparkly metal punches were strewn all across the table.

"Oh there you are." My mother screamed out. "Hurry up. The rest of the family is going to be here soon. You need to go change?" That was my mother. Always criticizing or degrading my clothing attire. What I had on was perfect for this party, right up until the moment, she opened her judgmental mouth.

"I am dressed mother." I replied in a soft even tone, but my mental voice was screaming back. 'I look incredible Harriet so just shut it would you.' Harriet would be the name my mother was called whenever I was mad. More often than not, I said her name internally, but when I did speak up and voiced her name out loud, she knew I was mad. Today, I was not going to let her get to me and say her name aloud.

"Oh. All right. I guess if that is what you have chosen to wear. I thought maybe you had some THING before this, and that you might want to change into more family attire before the rest of the family gets here."

I didn't have a chance to snap a rebuttal back as my younger sister Bethany, the perfect one, as she came into the room like a floating angel. "Mom. I got some more tape. Sis. Hey, you look nice. Got a hot date later?"

"Actually, he's coming tonight." I said it as if I was floating on air while thinking about it.

"I see. Mom, here's the tape but really I think we've done enough. Don't you sis?" Bethany was on one of her typical missions, helping my mom, and nothing could distract her.

"Too much if you ask me." My tone snapped out a bit too snarky, but I wanted the night to be elegant and sophisticated not toddler time with dressing insults. Would it kill my mother, just for once, to say, 'my dear you look lovely - who did your hair; it's stunning'? I might be doing a mental reach here; however, it was what I wanted to hear versus what I always got. Therefore, my tone reached everyone's ears before I had a chance to reign in the anger.

My mother completely ignored me and turned to my sister, looped her arm in my sisters, turned her to look at the mass of decorations and leaned her body into hers. "Well if you think so, I'll stop, but I just thought it might help liven the mood since your sister only turns thirty once, and I haven't been able to throw her a graduation party for college like we did for you sweetheart. Not to mention the fact that you just got that huge promotion and was made manager."

I got it. I did. I got every slick tongue dig my mother tossed out there. I grew up with this, and I wanted to shout out that my sister was addicted to speed and sleeping pills, not to mention she jumped Redbull's revenues up a percentage all by herself. However, I have never once, called out my sister's flaws to deviate from mine. I don't think my mother would have accepted them any ways. Superhuman Sis could keep my mother's attention; I was never on the happy reciprocating end of it any ways... no matter how hard I tried.

I turned on my heels and headed back to the bar, only to find Marion and her husband Carl ordering a drink for themselves and my dad. Marion and my dad had always gotten along. They were my joint force in dealing with the rest of my crazy family. Carl? Well, he loved Marion, but he also tolerated all of this only twice a year, my birthday and the family summer barbeque that Marion always insisted he attend with her. The rest of the time, Carl would claim he had to be out of town or Marion would say he had to golf with a client.

Marion stood at the bar looking ever the perfect trophy housewife she had come to be. Her perfectly done long brown hair hung in glorious curls down her back. Her simple elegant black dress with lace shawl made her look glamorous at any age. She turned to me with her eyes sparkling and her makeup perfect, and even though she left me at the plant six years ago to marry Carl and become the perfect quintessential housewife slash trophy wife; I loved her every day for the person she still is.

I watched Carl's arm slip protectively behind Marion as he turned to see who she was smiling at. Some days I thought it was true love, but the other day Marion let me know that, as long as she had her looks and wits about her, she was golden for about another ten years, then she worried it would be just then that Carl would start looking for another younger trophy wife. She often joked that Botox and tummy tucks were a trophy wife's best friend. She even joked that half her monthly allowance went into a bank account so that when he did leave her, she wouldn't be broke due to the prenup his mother made her sign. However, I saw the way he adored her and the constant possessiveness in his nature to make sure that she was always well taken care of; I had a hard time believing he would ever want to trade her in for somebody else.

Marion and I hugged and then Carl gave me a kiss on the cheek, telling me how incredible I looked. He was the first to say it and mean it. My dad raised his glass and slurred out a few words that I would take as a compliment, and then I motioned to the bartender with a point of my finger to my dad and a slash of my hand across my throat. "Hey dad. How about we get some coffee in you? The night's young and I'll let you order a nightcap or two once dinner comes."

"Party snooper." He slurred. I knew he meant to say party pooper but my heart went out to the man. I didn't like that he was an alcoholic and a retired cop with nothing to do but deal with my mom all day. However, you could not blame the man since he was married to my mom, besides something made me think he had started drinking long before he got to the restaurant today.

My cousins arrived with my grandma who was incredibly hard of hearing along with my aunt who is my mom's much older sister. She wasn't too spry herself these days; we directed them to the back room. I had contemplated inviting more friends, but my mother just embarrassed me way too often that I let the mention of this party slide, knowing that on Wednesday, we would have an office cake and after work drinks to enjoy. Working at a manufacturing plant wasn't glamorous, but I loved the celebratory camaraderie that came with the job, party for any reason was a great reason for cake during the day and drinks in the evening.

The only person left was Steve, and he mentioned he might be late by a few minutes.

I walked up to my grandma to give her a hug and a kiss. "Grandma, you look lovely. Is that a new dress Grandma Tess?"

"Piss test? Why would I take a piss test? You young ones are truly odd these days, what with all your technology and code words and funky fresh dance moves."

Carl raised his eyebrows and excused himself to the men's room. Marion giggled as the now half-full restaurant turned to the volume of my grandma's voice shouting about being able to buy a book about sex and dominance at the grocery store the other day. My three younger cousins headed pass my grandma and aunt and bolted into the party room. I gingerly tried to steer my grandma and half-blind aunt to the back party room while my grandma continued on talking at the top of her lungs about the weather, her bad hip, the walk from where they parked and why I was wearing my lingerie instead of decent clothes to my birthday party.

Ok, she had me there. Maybe I should have saved the slinky number for later and wore just a simple elegant dress like Marion did. Sometimes, my common sense just goes out the window when I get excited. I was excited for my family to meet Steve. There was potential. I was excited to turn thirty. I had plans for the next ten years, one of them was to hopefully settle down with marriage. I wasn't exactly sure if it was Steve, although his sexual skills held promise; what I did know was I was starting to want to settle, somehow.

I got everyone settled in around the table and drink orders were placed. My cousins all ordered alcohol, Marion and Carl still had theirs from the bar; my dad gave me a pleading look to order another, and I pinched the bridge of my nose and closed my eyes while looking down. When the waitress got to me, I order a martini and then caught the look of disapproval from my mom. Then my sister ordered bottled water, and my mother beamed. My mother ordered an ice tea. I'm pretty sure when they die, my mother and sister will reconnect in heaven while my dad and I, will be tearing it up in a bar in hell.

Fifteen minutes had passed, and I was starting to wonder if something happened with Steve. Just then, he walked in with a panic look on his face, but other than that, he looked ever the sexy man I recently fell in love with. Not to mention he did things with his hands and tongue that no man had ever done before and that was probably why I was so enamored with him. I quickly stood and was about to announce his arrival when he motioned for me to come outside with him.

"This is Steve everyone. We'll be right back." I proudly announced to my family in the party room, like a kid who shows off a report card with all A's. Only problem is, it was all A's in the ridiculous department.

I was the family offspring whom everyone thought needed a little more common sense. Well, except for my aunt Heather. We were two peas in a pod, only she was only fifteen years older than me, due to the fact my grandparents are Catholic. She, just like myself, tend to be considered as, less wise in my family's eyes. She could not be here tonight, on account she's in the Bahamas.

As Steve practically dragged me out of the party room by my hand, I caught the look of concern on Marion's face and the look of disapproval on my mothers. I heard my grandmother shout out something about kids these days and my cousin's last comment that caught my ears, as Steve and I fled the room. The comment made my heart stop. "Why's he wearing a wedding ring if he's dating Cousin Amber?"

And that, was the beginning of a hellish night for me. Steve's wife had followed him and caught us just outside the party room doorway. Everybody in the restaurant and at my dinner table got to hear that I, Amber Jones, had been sleeping with a married man. Why had I not noticed the tell-tell signs of a married man? I couldn't call, only text his cell. The odd working hours. The sick sister, my ass. The motel rendezvous, and the slight indentation in his skin, on his ring finger, that I dismissed. All that from the very first kiss should have been my light-bulb moment. He was married. I was embarrassed. His wife was pissed and unwilling to let me explain. If it wasn't for Carl, I think the restaurant would have kicked us out.

Carl escorted Steve out with the strength of his strong hand on Steve's upper arm. Steve's wife followed. Marion grabbed me and rushed me to the lady's room. My mother's cry of 'for Pete's sake you can't even get your own boyfriend' rang out throughout the restaurant.

I spent the next hour in the lady's room, getting supplies of hard alcohol shots from my cousins and Marion. I wanted to wait until a new turn of tables appeared before I walked back passed those tables of people that just heard I was sleeping with a married man, and a new flux of customers were too busy ordering their food or eating, to notice the scarlet in the restroom.

I finally made it out when my cousin Julie mentioned they wanted to bring the cake out. The dinner my mother ordered me, eggplant parmesan, had gotten cold. I hate eggplant, and she knows it. At this point, I was drunk. Too drunk to care about cold eggplant or my mother. I was ready to dive right into the chocolate cake with raspberry filling and cream cheese frosting that I had ordered from the bakery up the street. I walked slyly between my cousin and Marion to the party room. I slinked in and sat in my chair. Carl motioned for the waitress and asked if I wanted something new to eat.

"Just bring on the snake!" I slurred. I meant to say cake, but the waitress caught my drift, and I was passed the point of normal conversation or word pronunciation. I was blitzed.

On a cart with a tablecloth came a full sheet cake of dark moist chocolate cake, with sweet raspberry filling and dreamiest cream cheese frosting a girl could ever hope for.

That was the best moment of the night. The brightly lit candles, thirty of them, didn't bother me. The snarky comment from my mother when I asked for three pieces didn't bother me. The birthday cards with gift cards were nice, except when I opened my mother's card, the gift card was for half of what she gave my sister for her birthday. A nice penmanship comment of 'get yourself something nice to wear' tore at me for a second then I tried to take it in a positive way. Because that is what this heavenly cake did for me. It made me forget all the rest of the bad things that happened before tonight and the crazy things my family said and did after.

I was not only having my cake and eating it too; I was taking the left over's home to wallow in my tears with for many lonely nights to come. Because tonight may have come to a crappy ending, but I had my cake, and I was not going to be left out in the cold for very long. In a few days, I will be officially thirty, and I am going to make my mark in this world.